Marrakech’s built environment, and for that matter, all of Morocco’s, is like a time capsule. It’s as if the Mesoamerican cultures had never collapsed, and people were still living in Tikal and Copán, Chichén-Itzá and Palenque.

Though it’s not as old, there’s a certain amount of that effect in both Oaxaca and Guanajuato, in the sense that buildings don’t get torn down, they get repaired. But the residue of age there is largely Colonial, not indigenous, and it’s hard to get excited about restored European hoohah.

In Morocco, on the other hand, you’re constantly engaged with a civilization that is both ancient and vibrant, with the ancient part of that equation doing the heavy lifting. The sheer amount of time that Marrakech has been occupied has led to an explosion of beauty. Everywhere you turn you’re assaulted by beauty, from the riot of crafts on display in the Medina’s souks to the palatial interiors of buildings whose street faces are nothing-to-see-here modest. Over that stretch of time, if something can be decorated, it has been.

Which has led me to reassess the way I even think about beauty. Morocco has forced me, forced me, I tell you, to create an entirely new metric: ABQ™. Ambient Beauty Quotient. It operates on a scale of 1 to Far-Out-Man. OK, fine. 10. 1-10. You’re so square.

I’m sure it will be eclipsed as we travel more of the world, but the ABQ in Morocco seems sky-high. Close your eyes, spin around and open them. You’ll be looking at something beautiful. In my post on Guanajuato, I imagine neutron bombing both Guanajuato and Oaxaca. Guanajuato would be a much more charming post-bomb walk than Oaxaca, and Marrakech is noticeably more beautiful than Guanajuato.

Medersa Ben Youssef

Marrakech is blessed with a surfeit of ridiculously excessive historical buildings. While what follows is all notably blingy in its own regard, let’s start at the top: Medersa Ben Youssef. It sits adjacent to the Ben Youssef Mosque, which was originally built in 1132. The Almohads defeated the Almoravids, who’d built the original, in 1147, and the Almohad caliph promptly determined that the mosque was 6 degrees off true to Mecca. So it obviously needed to be destroyed and rebuilt pointing the right way. It was completely refurbished in 1563 by the Saadian dynasty. Which was also when the Medersa was built, construction completing in 1565. So, a relative newcomer to the Marrakech scene.

No expense was spared, and the school became the largest medersa in the Maghreb, able to house and educate upwards of 800 students. While it closed as a working medersa in 1960, it was completely refurbished to its previous glory in 1982.

The Medersa Ben Youssef features all of the beats you expect from Moroccan building design: carved wood, hand cut mosaic tile, intricately carved and painted plaster, colored glass, etched stone, tiled fountains… You’ll see all of these in many of the buildings below, but the Ben Youssef is, in my opinion, the highest expression of these various art forms. If you’re only in Marrakech for a short visit, skip the others and head to the Medersa Ben Youssef. It’s much of what makes the historic buildings here so amazing, condensed into a single site.

El Badi Palace

This is more an architectural ruin than an example of artisanal Moroccan design, but that just makes it interesting in a different way. Commissioned by the Saadian sultan Ahmad al-Mansur in 1578, the palace was worked on until his death in 1603. After which, apparently, no one gave a shit. Over the years its marble cladding was looted to be reused on new buildings the current sultan actually cared about. Because they were about him. Not that other guy. With the ruined palace. Loser.

Le Jardin Secret

The Secret Garden has a lovely vibe, due to the extensive gardens and fountain system. We also visited the famous YSL Jardin Majorelle, which was super fucking crowded. I think it’s one of a few sites that’s a tourist requirement. If you’re here for three days, you’re visiting Jemaa el Fna and the Jardin Majorelle. You and everyone else.

Although the gardens themselves are beautiful, the adjacent YSL museum left Dorothy cold. Looking at his sketches felt like work to her. “Great, another useless designer who could only be bothered drawing the front of a garment. Thanks a lot.”

Curiously, one of the lasting impacts of Jardin Majorelle is the intense blue the original creator of the garden, Jacques Majorelle, painted many of the walls. This color became known as Majorelle Blue. Despite it being lifted directly by Majorelle from Berber design. Thank goodness that kind of appropriation isn’t common. Or it would really sting.

Can you imagine visiting a Berber village and exclaiming, on seeing a traditional burnoose, “Oh, look! Majorelle Blue.” Eh, I’m sure that’s never happened.

Anyway, here’s a picture of a cactus in a Majorelle Blue planter. Just to prove we were there.

But we were talking about Le Jardin Secret. Which has two distinct things going for it. The first is that it’s a beautiful, peaceful garden hidden away right in the Medina, so it’s something of an oasis. We’ve seen long lines to get in, but the day we were there, for whatever reason, it was lightly attended, adding to the chill vibe. It’s the kind of place you could just sit for hours and absorb.

The gardens were originally a site of one of the Saadian Empire’s palaces, which was first built in the late 1500s. It fell into decline, along with the Saadians, and was rebuilt in the mid 1800s. It was occupied until 1934, when it again fell into disrepair. The palace and gardens were only restored and opened to the public in 2016.

But what a restoration it was! The gardens and buildings are beautiful, blah blah blah. Not to discount it, but the ABQ™ is so high here, it’s easy to become a little visually exhausted. It’s like those massive retrospectives at the Met, where at some point you’re just, “Fuck. Another room full of Monets. Jesus, my feet are sore. And I think my eyes have died.”

For me, and proof of what a geek I am, the true beauty of the restoration was… the plumbing! The 18xx rebuild included a tour de force of Arabic water engineering, funneling water from the Atlas Mountains into a complex underground system feeding fountains and water courses throughout the two distinct gardens (one a traditional Islamic garden, the other exotics). This was accomplished entirely through gravity and water pressure, not a pump to be found anywhere.

This system had, of course, collapsed, and was completely rebuilt in the 2016 renovation, functioning today as it did originally. There is signage throughout the grounds, highlighting the mechanics and distribution paths for the water works. While the resulting fountains and gardens are drop dead gorgeous, the engineering that created that effect is its own kind of beauty.

Here’s one of the main distribution points within the gardens. Water is forced up by pressure though the tube in the back right, which then overflows into the other tubes, distributing water throughout the rest of the garden.

And here’s the official video from Le Jardin Secret, explaining the entire system. Breathtaking.

La Mamounia Hotel

La Mamounia sits right at the edge, but is still technically part of, the Old City. It opened in 1929 on the grounds of… an old palace. Didn’t see that coming. A mashup of Art Deco and traditional Moroccan design, La Mamounia was intended from inception to be a world class hotel, and it’s still considered one of the best hotels in the world.

We went there for dinner and drinks one night when Bruce, Meredith, Liz, and Fred were visiting. It’s one of the very few places in the Old City where you can order a cocktail. Plenty of options in Gueliz, but slim pickings in the Old City. We didn’t go to one of the four official restaurants, but sat in the bar for drinks and a bar menu. An incredible experience, matched by the stratospheric prices for food and drink.

This is actually my favorite shot from our visit. Fred took this as we approached the front door, fully expecting to be tackled by one of the gorillas. We were shocked that we were just permitted to walk past that entourage and right into the hotel without being stopped. Or frisked.

When we got inside the explanation was clear. There was signage for a Russian/Saudi economic conference starting the next day. That was probably the Saudi finance minister being protected by the goons. Living large.

Dorothy and I went back later for the 1-54 Art Fair, which was also showing at a smaller gallery just off Jemaa el Fna, the DaDa. It featured art from all corners of Africa, not just North Africa, and it was stellar. Perhaps because of Dorothy’s influence (or maybe just to curry favor with her), I was drawn to the fiber art.

This is the work of Ghizlane Sahli, a local Marrakech artist.

And this is by Samuel Nnorom, from Nigeria.

Bahia Palace, Dar el Bacha, & Musée de Marrakech

These are buildings in a similar vein as Medersa Ben Youssef, exemplars of traditional Moroccan design. Each is beautiful in its own right, and only stand a notch below Ben Youssef based on priority. If you have a lengthy stay in Marrakech, as we do, go see them all. Not a one disappoints. But if you’re constrained for time, Medersa Ben Youssef is a top-notch greatest hits collection.

Like a lot of the “museums” in Marrakech, these are primarily museums of themselves. There’s the odd display, but mostly they’re just showing off the building itself.

Bahia Palace

Bahia Palace is one of Marrakech’s more modern constructions, having been built in 1859 and monkeyed with until 1900. There’s some beautiful painted wood, which is in pretty good shape, as it’s not, comparatively, that old. Don’t worry, still plenty of foofy carved plaster.

Dar el Bacha

A Riot Of Tile

A Clown Car Of Plaster

A Cavalcade Of Ceilings

A Welter Of Wood

Musée de Marrakech

Another palace! This one also pretty fresh, having been built in the very beginning of the 20th century. More over the top tile work, and a truly vast courtyard, clearly meant to humble through its sheer square footage. This spot actually had some legit museum displays. Very interesting to see how the historic ceramics patterns are still being made today.

Gueliz

The New City was built by the French starting in 1912, and was the first district in Marrakech built outside the Old City of the Medina and Kasbah. I’m still baffled as to why the French didn’t follow the traditional Colonial playbook and just tear shit down, but they chose to build fresh, and good for them.

Other than not having destroyed the Old City, Gueliz’s primary benefit is that it neatly separates the interesting part of Marrakech from the uninteresting. Not that there aren’t great restaurants and galleries and shops in Gueliz. There are. It’s just that the built environment itself isn’t interesting.

It’s constructed around a traditional European model, with broad boulevards and traffic circles with fountains. Which is fine, as far as it goes, but it’s inherently less interesting than the architecture in the Old City, which is a three-dimensional history lesson you can walk through.

But Gueliz’s real sin is something the French are probably proud of. The Old City’s walls, and many of the building exteriors within, are a distinctive pink color (although it’s called the Red City, it’s a Pink City), having been clad in a pink clay common to Marrakech. The French chose to use the same clay, or mimic it with paint, for Gueliz’s buildings, which was surely meant as a sign of respect. And may well have been taken that way at the time.

But the net effect now is one of bland, monolithic uniformity, rendering Gueliz’s landscape a heavy-handed monochrome. I don’t know if these days it’s regulation or custom, but leave it to Europeans to misunderstand something beautiful and fuck it up.

Out And About

A few odds and ends from around Marrakech.

Fondouks

Fondouks are basically caravanserais, inns specifically designed for traveling caravans, and they’re scattered all throughout the Medina. Their footprint is consistent: a central courtyard that served as the camel and horse parking lot, rooms around the courtyard in which goods could be stored and secured, and small rooms around the second floor for sleeping.

Today, many of the fondouks have been restored, as the first one below, as artisan’s marts, with shops occupying the first floor storerooms, the courtyard used for display, and the upper floor rooms as workrooms.

Restaurants

Some of the restaurants are really a lot. This one was entirely woman owned and staffed with a soaring interior and a ridiculous menu.

I think it might have been a different restaurant, but this happened. Whatever this is. A traditional Berber LED dance? Seriously. I have no idea.

And this was just the interior of an otherwise unprepossessing building. Who knows what happens when you go through the door? Although that is kind of our theme.

The exterior of the Kasbah Cafe, right near our first riad in the Kasbah. Just a lovely example of vernacular design.

Weird Street Art

Tucked into a little corner of the Medina, in an alley between two of the souks, is… this.

I’m pretty sure this is a shrine to their current king. Who they seem to legitimately love, and who doesn’t seem like a fuckwit (looking at you, Windsors… although I love your ties). Beyond that, no clue. Nary a why or a who to be found. I guess outsider art is just fine, in service of the monarchy.