My four weeks in the country were challenging, exhausting, frustrating and disheartening β and yet, they were also full of joy, awe, wonder, and rewards. How can one of my favourite countries in the world have left me with such unenjoyable experiences that I cut short my time there by several weeks? But I loved Morocco. I loved my time there. I loved the places I wandered through and the people who proved that Moroccans can be kind and welcoming and helpful.
However, I was so frustrated that the local men I met acted in a way that made my trip far less enjoyable. They reach out looking for reassurance, wanting advice, and looking for information on how to have a safe, trouble-free trip. So here, then, is an account of the struggles and joy I experienced from travelling through Morocco β and the advice I would offer women who are looking to travel there too.
I deliberately skipped visiting Fes because I had heard nothing positive about the city from any women I ran into on the road. I arrived in Marrakech fully prepared to dislike such a chaotic city, but fell in love from the second I arrived.
Yes, it was noisy, busy, and polluted, but it was also beautiful, exciting, and fascinating to spend time in. I even managed to negate some of the tension by hiring a local guide to show me around. My guide helped keep the touts at bay as we navigated the medina with minimal hassle.
He helped me to get my bearings, and I experienced and saw a lot more than if I had been alone. The following day, without a guide, I found simple wanderings to be slightly challenging but I never once felt like I was in any real danger.
