My father was an aircraft mechanic who often flew to Morocco in the 1950s to repair downed U.S. aircraft, probably at the Port Lyautey Naval Air Station near Casablanca. He sent us postcards of exotic-looking people leading camels through the desert and brought home cherished gifts of tooled leather and decorative brass.

As a child, I thought of the people in caftans, women with their faces covered, camels in the desert in a fairytale kind of way….far away and not very real.

NextTribe takes small groups of women ages 45+ on adventures around the globe, including Morocco! Learn more here.

Finally, decades later, I got the chance to visit Morocco myself. Some experiences were just as I imagined back when I was a child. Others were a complete surprise, exceeding expectations in the most delightful way. (How often does that happen?)

The Marrakech Express

While this NextTribe trip seemed to cover a lot of ground on the map, it was just a small area of the country. We stayed in five different locations, starting and ending in Marrakesh, traveling on paved highways and rugged roads through the Ait Bouguemez Valley to the Atlas Mountains and into the Sahara Desert and back.

We had a small van, but then switched to 4x4s, and eventually camels!

What I knew from past NextTribe trips was that 1) I would be traveling with a group of intelligent, dynamic, fun-loving women; 2) we would go beyond the touristy stuff to connect, engage with, and support the local communities, especially the women; and 3) we would be in good hands.

Our sweet, patient, and very smart guide M’Hamed was a Berber with nomad heritage. He spoke several languages (Arabic, Berber, French, English, Spanish, maybe more) and shared a wide range of information about Moroccan history and culture. He and our van driver, Lassen, took very good care of us. Their connections to the local communities were invaluable.

Navigating the crowds and maze of souks with their vivid displays of textiles, spices and crafts was both exciting and challenging.

We stayed at Riad Dar Nejma in the historic district and, of course, immediately went into the medina. Navigating the crowds and maze of souks with their vivid displays of textiles, spices, and crafts was both exciting and challenging. A fun pottery class and a day trip to the artist André Heller’s Anima Gardens, with its myriad of plants, sculptures and installation art, also fell into the “expected” category.

The unexpected parts were an impromptu stop at a roadside flea market, a visit to a factory where they process argan oil the old-fashioned way, the local wildlife who were too eager to “commune” with us at the scenic Ouzoud Waterfalls, and the Berber village we visited in the Atlas Mountains.

Happy Valley Is a Good Name

Officially the area we traveled to next is called Ait Bouguemez, but the nickname is “Happy Valley.” After three days in an authentic Berber village in the High Atlas Mountains, I can see why. Everything about this area was a revelation—from the ancient dinosaur prints to the way these people live simply and cooperatively with few modern conveniences. They build their houses of rammed earth and brush, grow their own food, herd sheep and goats, and use donkeys and mules for transportation. They taught us how to make tagines in an outdoor cooking class and then gave us a tour of a typical Berber home, welcoming us with warm bread and tea.

They taught us how to make tagines in an outdoor cooking class and then gave us a tour of a typical Berber home.

We visited a women’s co-op where they proudly showed us how they weave rugs and tapestries from their animals’ wool using the most basic tools. On our last night, at the family-owned AdaZen Ecolodge where we stayed, the women decorated our hands with henna and our hosts regaled us with their music. Bonus: The lodge had a yoga room and we got together one morning for a quick class.

On Toward the Desert

We continued exploring Morocco, passing through the M’Goun Valley (Valley of Roses) to Skoura and stopping (and shopping) at another women’s co-op where they process Damascus rose petals to make cosmetics. You could see why this area, filled with palms and considered an oasis, was a stopover for early camel caravans.

We stayed in the charming Kasbah Ait Ben Damiette and learned that a kasbah was a citadel or fortress surrounding and protecting the village or ksar. Some kasbahs, like ours, have been turned into hotels, others have been restored as national treasures. We got to wander through the warrens of an ancient ksar (a type of fortified village) that, surprisingly, still houses 400 families.

Deep into the Dunes

The van could only go so far into the desert, so we parked it and took 4x4s to an area in Merzouga, where we got on camels. We were led by young men for a one-hour ride over the dunes to Madu Luxury Camp in Erg Chebbi.

Our camel ride was a cross between a pony ride at the state fair and a “Lawrence of Arabia” fantasy come true.

This was an entertaining cross between a pony ride at the state fair and a “Lawrence of Arabia” fantasy come true. We stayed in tents that had electricity, heat, toilets, and showers. And, we were in the middle of the Sahara Desert! With delicious food, music around the campfire, and a night sky filled with stars…what’s not to love?

Yes, There Were Nomads!

The next day, back in the 4x4s, we visited a nomad family with three little children who live in tattered tents that are nothing like the tents we were staying in. These people move across the desert to find grazing areas and water sources. They herd livestock and rely on their animals’ milk, meat, and wool for sustenance and trade.

For me, the iconic moment of this whole trip was when they graciously served us hot baked bread and tea in their “dining room” tent. Back in my privileged suburban comfort, I am still trying to process this.

Circling Back

Our next stop was Village Khamlia in the town of Merzuga, where slaves from the sub-Saharan settled. At Restaurant Café Nora, we had a lesson in making Medfouna (nicknamed Berber pizza) from rounds of dough that we stuffed with meat, vegetables, and spices. While our food was cooking, we were entertained by Gnaoua musicians. The Gnaoua culture traces back to sub-Saharan Africa, where the musicians’ ancestors came from hundreds of years ago. The performance reflected those rhythmic roots. After some spirited dancing, we headed back to the restaurant to feast on our creations.

On our journey back to Marrakech, we stopped at a large lake (in the desert!), a lush oasis with cooperative gardens and hand-built aqueducts, and the “Labyrinthe du Sud”, the biggest, most elaborate shop with more authentic rugs, artifacts, and jewelry than I’ve ever seen.

We stopped at the biggest, most elaborate shop with more authentic rugs, artifacts, and jewelry than I’ve ever seen.

My fellow travelers purchased treasures large and small that they would later photograph in their homes and share with the group via our WhatsApp thread.

We’re all thrilled that we still have that WhatsApp connection. After spending 14 days together, experiencing such meaningful moments together, we certainly felt a deep bond.

A Bittersweet Ending

Our last day in Marrakesh gave us an opportunity to do our own thing: indulge in a restorative hammam at our hotel, visit the Jardin Majorelle, or continue to shop.

Beyond being perhaps the best NextTribe trip ever it was also a childhood dream come true for me.

At our farewell dinner, there were toasts and tears (and a belly dancer). And many declarations that this was the best NextTribe trip ever. I would certainly drink to that, and for me, it was also a childhood dream come true.

This article was edited for brevity. A longer version appears at the author’s blog, https://accidental-goddess.com/blog/.