Marrakech MEDINA: stepping out of Europe and into Africa.

SøEditor-in-Chief: Chris Saint Sims 
​SøDigital Director: Savannah Barthorpe​​

A short distance from Spain, yet worlds apart, though still bound by threads of shared history and cultural crossover. From the classical heart of Europe’s Mediterranean world to the ancient pulse of Morocco and its trade routes across Africa, this is a meeting point of worlds.

Visiting Marrakech is more than a shopping adventure, though it’s that too, for anything your exotic desires might crave. It’s a step into the ancient past, alive and functioning in the present.

​In exploring Marrakech and its medina, one learns not only about a culture but about oneself, through how others live, eat, communicate, and move through such an intense space.

To be in the medina and not get lost is simply impossible. Spend several days there and expect to lose yourself daily. Every direction reveals a new junction of narrow alleys, each turn offering mirrored echoes of where you’ve been and where you might be heading. At times it causes inner panic, confusion, then laughter at how misled this walled city has left you.

After five days wandering the medina, I thought I’d gained a sense of its layout. But one confused lane felt like following the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, pure magic. I remember rushing to reach the authentic hammam (men only) confident I knew the way, only to enter from another direction and walk straight past it. Another forty minutes later, with the help of a kind local, I arrived, to the very door I’d passed a kilometre earlier.

It’s hard to recall the last time I walked so much, so endlessly entertained by its vividness and stimulation.
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Rebel Store

At moments everything blurs into itself, the sounds of snake charmers, the hum of Moroccan voices, the shimmer of brass, the glint of African masks, carpets, fabrics, handmade shoes and robes, carved wood, woven baskets. One moment you’re led into a tiny room filled with fine silver jewellery; the next, a vast warehouse stacked with antique doors and marble fountains. The phrase Aladdin’s Cave barely captures it.

​Beyond the general market, within the fifteen-kilometre circle of the city wall, lies a calmer quarter, boutique stalls and tiny ateliers dedicated to handmade clothing that blends African craftsmanship with European sensibility. Artisan fashion thrives here, flourishing in cobbled alleys shaded from the African sun, check out Rebel Store and Afos Berber along the way.  The atmosphere is quieter, more sophisticated, a welcome exhale.

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​Throughout the medina, food is its own education. I chose to eat as authentically as possible, avoiding rooftop restaurants designed for tourists, however beautiful and comfortable they may be. Instead, I ate on the streets, perched on a stool beside donkeys, mopeds, and the endless rush of feet and bicycles. It was beyond fascinating, raw, riveting, alive.

Breakfast was simple and divine: fried eggs with tomatoes, herbs, and cheese, served sizzling in the pan, with fresh bread and mint tea. In one narrow alley I sat for coffee, which arrived from another café, such is the rhythm of local life. Shafts of sunlight cut through the roof, while mopeds and donkey carts clashed together in a ballet of chaos. Sitting there, I felt reborn, like a character in a real-life scene from Blade Runner or Star Wars.

This isn’t everyone’s idea of dining, but if you search, you’ll find these tiny kitchens serving tagine, vegetables, mint tea, a simple, elegant structure of nourishment.

Alcohol and Western food are scarce within the medina, those belong to the modern side of the city, where Western comforts await. The choice, as always, is personal.

Marrakech exists as two sides of the same coin, the ancient and the hyper-modern, coexisting side by side, feeding one another. Both are essential for survival. The medina, a living relic of millennia, and the sleek modern districts beyond its walls mirror Morocco’s ability to honour the past while shaping the future.

Both pay homage to the culture of North Africa, each, in its own way, a testament to continuity, adaptation, and beauty in the everyday.
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Afos Berber