Morocco – This is for all the sexy people

It’s no wonder Sex in the City’s fashion forward New Yorkers used the sultry Moroccan backdrop for their next cinematic spin

Written & photographed by Karen Loftus

Sarah Jessica Parker and her infamous, sexually savvy trio stepped out of their comfort and couture zone of New York and opted for camels over cabs and riads in place of lofts. Leaving behind what has often been called SITC’s fifth character, they have recast the urban apple with the seductive Moroccan landscape. Like New York, Morocco is screen savvy and has long been a star in her own right.

The plot lines of SITC may be held tightly under wraps, but it is no secret that Morocco is once again ready for its cinematic close up.  On screen or in person, this old world wonder is a timeless beauty worthy of a revisit or a first plunge in.

A Warm Welcome

As we stepped off the plane in Marrakech, the heat was so dense you could actually see it. Midday June in Marrakech, the weather is relentless, unapologetic and perfect. Welcoming our travel weary crew was the ever-dapper Fabrizio Ruspoli, the Italian-French aristocrat and proprietor of our first Moroccan palace, La Maison Arabe.

I couldn’t imagine a better welcome to the country. The cool, crisp wrinkle free Fabrizio and Juan scurried us through customs, bags and had us whisked away effortlessly to Fabrizio’s riad, just outside of Marrakech’s medina. 

Alice in Wonderland

What is common in Morocco, similar to New Orleans French Quarter, you don’t show your wares. The big surprise comes once inside. You would almost miss the subtle doors of this urban oasis. Yet once inside, like Alice, you fall in to a rich and sensuous Wonderland.

Maison Arabe (www.lamaisonarabe.com) was like no other place I had ever seen, yet just as I would imagine. Two French women initially owned the recently renovated riad in 1946. It is rich in history with its share of cinematic stars, aristocrats and tastemakers who have made their mark in the bar and lounge. If privy to a private moment with Fabrizio he will treat you to a tour divulging the decadent morsels of Elizabeth Taylor’s favorite corner in the bar or Princess Grace’s place.

Hammam

After a welcoming Moroccan tea, a definitive ritual, we slipped in to Maison Arabe’s basement spa for a traditional hammam. This practice dates back to the Arabs in the 7th century and to this day is referred to as “the silent doctor.” After a scrub, steam and a wrap I fell in to the deepest of sleeps during my massage. It definitely healed what ailed me. If our schedule weren’t chock a block, I would have happily played queen for the day and simply relaxed in my expansive suite. It’s an evocative spot, pitch perfect for reflection or romance.

Floral Arrangements

We didn’t skip a beat with a carriage ride to Jardin Majorelle (www.jardinmajorelle.com), the garden property of French painter Jacques Majorelle. The late Yves Saint Laurent and his partner Pierre Berge acquired the property and restored it to its current state of beauty in 1980. True to YSL’s form this is not your average garden party as plants from five continents are present.

An Islamic art museum is on site housing the works of Majorelle alongside artifacts from Maghreb, Orient, Africa and Asia. If you like to take your art with you, the shop next door is filled with one off pieces of jewelry and clothing designed by YSL’S previous designer who mixes French couture with local Moroccan craft and culture. The end result is exquisite, head turning couture. I imagine it was a Pat Field’s favorite.

Picture Perfect

Fabrizio and Juan the consummate hosts walked us through the world famous Marrakech medina. As much as I’m a wanderer by nature, we were encouraged to stick with our crew, as it’s wonderfully overwhelming and easy to get lost. 

The medina is a coffee table book waiting to happen. If you love life behind the lense, this is your perfect canvas. Be prepared with small coins in your pocket as the locally captured faces come with a price. If you have a great zoom, even better as the best shots are caught naturally in the act, off the cuff and don’t involve monetary entanglements. Expect to haggle in stalls, as you will be sized up before a price is randomly released. Like many markets, respect and a fair price are given with a bit of dramatic haggling. Get your game face on.

The Whole World’s a Stage

 Aside from spices, rugs and crafts, the real drama was caught outside the stalls in the open medina. It’s an old world market full of drama and local theatrics from snake charmers to henna hand painters, men with monkeys and story tellers. Again, if captured on film, it all comes with a price. So, if someone hands you a monkey, puts one on your head and another on your shoulder and takes your camera to take your picture, you must dole out the dollars to get your own camera back. It all happens so fast. So be prepared. 

The urban curtain closed with the final act, a sunset drink on the tip top of a hotel hugging the medina. Overlooking the Moroccan madness and its circus like stage will have you on your feet, cheering on this world-class performance.

It’s Getting Hot in Here

Local culinary classes were high on the schedule. We enjoyed a welcome dinner in a classic Moroccan tent at The Country Club, Maison Arab’s off site locale for culinary lessons, dinner and pool parties. We then returned in the daylight to try our hand with the local cuisine.

Maison Arabe is internationally known for their cooking classes. So carve out a day for a class conducted by a dada, a traditional Moroccan chef. In our morning class we prepared our own Msemen Moroccan, Chicken Tangine and Fruit Pastilla before enjoying the fruits of our labors by lunch.

 The following day we flexed our culinary muscles again with a local Moroccan woman at Jnane Tamsna (www.jnanatamsna.com), a good half hour away from city center. They too have series of ongoing classes conducted in an outside kitchen. The tucked away property is dotted with small houses throughout the garden. Our Pear Tar Tan was the winning dish paired with local Moroccan wines. Enjoyed on the secluded patio, it was a lovely lunch and quite the accomplishment. 

The Magic Carpet Ride

The 30’s styled Bar at Maison Arabe is a destination unto itself. The impassioned Rashid, Maison Arabe’s head bartender infuses local culture, cuisine and an abundance of spices in to his handcrafted cocktails. If you want to forget the evening before, you can start each day anew as Rashid presents a new list of twelve cocktails each day.

Try the Morrocito, a Moroccan Mojito made with ginger and local Moroccan liqueur. If you’re a cocktail geek that likes splash of culture over ice, belly up to the bar.

After a few liquid lovelies we went to the other side of the medina where Andrea Kolb, the proprietor of Ana Yela (www.anayela.com), met us. It was a rich mix of twist and turns until we finally found her riad. It looked like a random door, but once in, a whole other story was unveiled.

Andrea and her now husband, German telecom businessman Bernd Kolb found this place in a state of disrepair. They have since restored it back to a state and a place unlike any other. Their inner sanctuary is extremely private with five romantic rooms. With its hued lighting, it’s pitch perfect for seduction.

We had a spirited dinner with live performers on the rooftop overlooking the medina. After a few wines, I was left basking in the moonlight where I waited for a magic carpet to fly by and take me away. It was that convincing.

The Best Things in Life are Free

After a day of sightseeing we were given one final spin in the medina. Our group was splintered and I was with two women looking for serious art in galleries. My art was in the medina. I was eager to do more urban exploring. I kept asking our tour guide/babysitter which way in to the medina. He assured me it was very far and I would never find my way in or out.

My persistence finally paid off as he suddenly delivered he skinniest man I have ever seen to me. My burly guide simply said, “He will take you to the medina.” Mr. Tiny was on a motorbike. By that I mean a skinny bicycle with a wee motor on it. The back “seat” that was assigned to my bum was the size of a letter envelope. I leapt on. Without a word between us, he took off. It happened so fast I completely forgot I had a camera, video, diet coke, purse and a huge floppy hat ready to take flight. I oddly managed to hold on to all of it, including his ribs.

We were flying through the streets weaving in and out of traffic, skimming cars. I was laughing and screaming. His only English back was, “America’s so funny!”

It was such a rush until we entered the thin and curvaceous medina. Maintaining speed, he whipped down a contracted alleyway with donkey’s eyes whisking by, old people, carts, cars, kids, and the blur of blue. If only my video was on. It was a vibrant montage.

I kept suggesting, “I’ll get off.” “This is fine.” “Stop!” He kept the conversation going with words like, “No!” To my surprise I was delivered in one giddy piece in to the heart of the medina. After the ride of my life, I went to get my money out. Before I could deliver, he smiled and said, “Funny girl”, then took off.

A World Atlas

After a regal sleep at the Amanjena (www.amanresorts.com), Brad and Angie’s Moroccan home away from home and a place of slumber for a few sexy city girls, we were heading to the Atlas Mountains for an eco retreat at Terres d’Amanar (www.terresdamanar.com).

Terres d’Amanar has long been a spot for adventure travelers and a favorite place where corporate types put their execs to the test. We had a slow build in, with a local cooking class. Our cook did not speak English. So, a seemingly westernized Berber girl translated, peppering the lesson with local Berber cultural tidbits.

After a long hike in the stunning Atlas Mountain and a leisurely wander through their old world village we came back to the best tangine of the trip, made with our own hands. Our salsa was insanely delicious and incredibly addictive. Many in our crew napped after that. We were the first to stay in the eco chic villas. They were ready to check out our eco chic digs.

I opted for more adventure and hit their zip line, the longest zip line in all of Africa. After a bouncy ropewalk across a deep canyon, we did the zip route two times over, as I could not get enough. My adventure girl was out and ready for action. Dinner under the stars and a cozy campfire in the fields was all the tuck in I needed.

The college aged Berber girl joined us for dinner and fascinated us with her gumption as both education and work for women is still frowned upon in her culture. She was an amazing and articulate young woman. I found her stories, passion and audacity inspiring. I could have listened to her all night. It may take a village, but in this case, it only took a single girl to change her village.

A Vintage Year

Casablanca is the Tel Aviv of Morocco as it is unlike any other city in this otherwise conservative country. Locally it is compared to the seductive South of France, sexy Barcelona or Brazil’s Rio. Their sultry lifestyle comes across as soon as you arrive on the waterfront. A bevy of lavishly dressed beautiful people surrounded us. They were enjoying long lunches on the water and in true European style, the lunches were long and the wine was flowing.

Morocco is a Muslim country, yet they have a thriving wine culture. The tax on imported wine makes international labels cost prohibitive. This keeps local businesses in the flow and Moroccan wines flowing at every table.

Bogey

We had but a night in the seaside city of Casablanca. So, we hit the famous Hassan mosque by day, the icon of Casablanca and Rick’s Café (www.rickscafe.ma), iconic in its own right by night. American Kathy succeeded in recreating the Bogey’s Rick’s café. So, of that’s what you’re looking for in Casablanca. Look no further. The classic cocktails American fare and jazz will take you back.

The close of the evening was in our rooftop bar at The Kenzi Tower Hotel (www.kenzi-hotels.com/hotels/casablanca/tower-hotel.html). A young East African girl knocked it out of the water with her bawdy bluesy pipes. There were a number of men in groups, no women alone or in groups, only accompanied by men, which were few. My girl had the men on their feet singing with passion “I Will Survive.” It was a moment.

Rock the Kasbah

Fez, even more untouched than Marrakech immediately felt good for the soul. Our view overlooking the medina from Palais Jamais (www.sofitel.com) was surreal. Unlike Marrakech, pictures were not frowned upon, nor did they come with a price. I could have easily spent a week just capturing the faces of Fez. Aside from the locals, the tannery, where the animal skins are treated is a vibrant painting, a hypnotic spot.

I am assuming Sex in the City rocked the sexual core of the locals as activity is frowned upon. In my ten days there, I had not seen any form of affection, except on the waterfront in Casablanca, steps away from one of the world’s most famous mosque’s.

Discretion is advised in this conservative Muslim country. Regardless, every one feels welcome, as the people are incredibly warm, gentle and funny.

Hello and Goodbye
The call to prayer happens several times a day in Morocco, the first being first thing in the morning before sunrise. Maybe like a car alarm you eventually block it out. Or perhaps like church bells, you don’t notice over time. But if visiting, it is soul sating. It stopped me in my tracks every time.

Our final morning we had a very early departure. I didn’t set an alarm. I just left my patio door open. The first call to prayer was just after 4:00 a.m. The call was a great way to start the day and the perfect way to end the trip.For more information on Morocco: www.visitmorocco.com

 By KarenLoftus 

Follow Karen Loftus on the Global Road on Titter  @LAKarenLoftus & on Facebook. Cheers!