Driving Over the Atlas Mountains from the Sahara to Marrakesh

April 2024 – A New Perspective on Morocco

From Avoidance to Admiration

Morocco was a country I had briefly visited in the past-Dodging Swindlers, Aggressive Snake Charmers and Pick Pocketers All While Purposely Getting Lost in the Endless and Charming Alleyways of the Marrakech Medina, Morocco | Venture The Planet, but never truly explored. For years, I dismissed it as too touristy, opting instead for what I saw as more intrepid, off-the-beaten-path experiences in other North African countries.

But for our three-week family trip—with my wife, infant daughter, and mother-in-law in tow—I saw Morocco in a new light. This time, I actually chose it for the very reasons I once avoided it: its popularity with travelers, well-developed infrastructure, and relative ease of travel, all of which made it more manageable with a baby.

And I’m so glad we did. In the end, Morocco was our favorite part of the trip. Its beauty, exotic atmosphere, and the sheer variety of sights made it a highlight for all of us. We only had four days, but in hindsight, I wish we’d stayed longer. Despite also visiting southern Spain, Sardinia, and other regions, Morocco left the deepest impression.

4 Days in Morocco – Family Itinerary

Day 1

• Fly direct from Paris Orly to Ouarzazate via **Transavia Airlines

• Pick up a rental car and drive to Skoura, a Saharan oasis village

• Overnight at LaMa Desert Lodge, a tranquil retreat surrounded by palm groves

Day 2

• Drive to Telouet, stopping at the Kasbah of Aït Benhaddou

• Overnight in a guesthouse in Telouet, nestled in the Atlas Mountains

Day 3

• Scenic mountain drive to Marrakesh

• Stay in a 500-year-old, family-run riad in the heart of the old city (medina)

Day 4

• Depart Marrakesh in the afternoon via Ryan Air flight to Málaga, Spain

Our route

Day 1 – Arrival in Ouarzazate

Eid al-Fitr, a Quiet Airport, and a Land Cruiser Surprise

Our journey in Morocco began in Ouarzazate, where we landed on the first day of Eid al-Fitr—the holiday marking the end of Ramadan. Known as the “Festival of Breaking the Fast,” Eid is a time for celebration, family gatherings, and rest. As expected, the airport and surrounding city were eerily quiet, with nearly all shops and services closed.

At the airport, the manager of our rental car agency, dressed in casual Islamic robes, told us he had come in only because of our reservation. With few other travelers around, we were fortunate to receive a free upgrade to a Land Cruiser—a luxurious ride for this remote part of Morocco. Given that no other rental cars or taxis were available, it felt like we’d already caught our first lucky break.

Searching for Water on a Holiday Desert Drive

We had a one-hour drive through the desert to reach Skoura, our first destination. Traveling with an infant, I wanted to make sure we had plenty of water, but finding any open shops on Eid was a challenge.

The gas stations only sold fuel, and after some time searching quiet neighborhoods, we eventually found a small shop open on a residential street. But there was another obstacle—we didn’t have Moroccan dirhams yet, and the airport had no ATM. All we had were euros.

Paula and her mom went into the shop to negotiate a purchase, and the shopkeeper struggled to make change. The situation drew attention, and soon a small crowd of curious, veiled Moroccan women gathered outside, watching with warm curiosity and offering greetings.

Desert Roads and Ancient Casbahs

With water and snacks finally secured, we set off across silent, sunbaked desert roads toward Skoura. The journey was serene and cinematic—we passed crumbling casbah ruins, scattered palm groves, and endless stretches of arid landscape, the kind of scenery that hints at Morocco’s ancient past and timeless rhythm.

It was a memorable and surreal welcome to a country we’d soon fall in love with.

An old casbah in Skoura

Arrival in Skoura

An Oasis in the Sahara

Skoura is best described as a small, serene oasis village on the edge of the Sahara Desert, with the Atlas Mountains rising in the distance like a jagged mirage. After driving through the sun-soaked plains, we turned onto a narrow dirt track that led us to our hotel—L’ma Lodge.

L’ma Lodge – A Hidden Gem in the Date Palms

Tucked inside a walled date plantation, L’ma Lodge is a charming Moroccan retreat, known for its traditional architecture, peaceful atmosphere, and lush garden surroundings. Though it was one of the pricier stays of our trip, I felt we had earned a bit of indulgence at this point in our journey—and this was the perfect place to unwind.

We arrived with nearly a full day to relax, and that’s exactly what we did. The gardens were tranquil, the pool was inviting, and the sense of calm that settled over us felt like a reward for the effort it took to get there.

Paula in our beautiful room

Moroccan Hospitality at Its Finest

A Warm Welcome to L’ma Lodge

Morocco is renowned for its hospitality, and L’ma Lodge lived up to that reputation from the moment we arrived. We were greeted with warm smiles, sweet mint tea, and generous helpings of delicious Moroccan food. We sat at an outdoor table overlooking the lodge’s manicured garden, sipping tea as the desert heat began to wane and the day’s fatigue started to melt away.

Once our rooms were ready, we slipped into the cool, air-conditioned comfort of our suite and took a much-needed nap—the kind that only comes after long travel through hot landscapes and unfamiliar roads.

Exploring Skoura’s Casbah Ruins

Mudbrick Fortresses of a Bygone Era

That afternoon, feeling refreshed, I ventured beyond the lodge grounds to explore the abandoned casbahs that dot the landscape around Skoura. These mudbrick ruins, now crumbling and sunbaked, once served as fortified strongholds to protect the oasis village from bandits and invading armies.

Skoura felt timeless—a village where modern and traditional farming methods coexist. Farmers worked the land amid endless date plantations, using both donkeys and diesel-powered machines. The sense of daily rhythm and quiet perseverance was as grounded as the very earth the casbahs were built from.

A Rooftop View Worth the Journey

Sunset Over Skoura’s Palm Groves

My favorite place at the lodge quickly became the rooftop terrace. From there, you could see the sea of green date palms stretching across the horizon, with the Atlas Mountains silhouetted in the distance. As the sun dipped lower, the sky softened into deep amber and lavender hues. It was a moment of pure stillness—a reminder of why we had come here in the first place.

Watching the sunset from the rooftop, with the desert breeze drifting in and the call to prayer echoing faintly from the village, was the perfect end to a magical day in Skoura.

Indie enjoying the view from our rooftop terrace at L’ma Lodge

View from the roof top terrace of the garden and date plantation

Nightfall in Skoura

A Garden Straight Out of a Storybook

As night fell, the gardens of L’ma Lodge came alive with a kind of Aladdin-like magic. The air filled with the laughter of children, most of them part of British families also staying at the lodge, creating a joyful and homey ambiance amid the exotic surroundings.

Cozy canvas tents, adorned with colorful Moroccan carpets and cushions, were scattered throughout the garden. Each one glowed softly with the warm flicker of candles and lanterns, casting dancing shadows across the palm-shaded paths.

There was even a small wooden hut filled with toys, where our daughter Indie could play before dinner—a rare and thoughtful touch that made the evening feel all the more family-friendly and relaxed.

A Feast Under the Stars

Moroccan Cuisine with Wine and Warmth

As the evening unfolded, we gathered with the other guests at a long, beautifully set table in the garden, where we were treated to a generous Moroccan dinner served al fresco. The multi-course meal was both rustic and refined—tagines, fresh salads, breads, spiced vegetables, and to our surprise, locally grown red wine that paired perfectly with the flavors.

Dining by candlelight under the stars, surrounded by swaying palms and good company, was one of those moments that lingers in your memory long after the trip ends. It was the perfect ending to our stay in Skoura—a night of comfort, connection, and beauty in one of Morocco’s most enchanting oases.

Aladinn like tent in the garden lit up with candles and lanterns at night

Aladinn like tent in the garden lit up with candles and lanterns at night

Paula and Indie

Indie and Paula in the toy tent

Cienne and Indie

Magical Night time garden

Morning in the Oasis

Slow Starts and Garden Breakfasts

The next morning, we allowed ourselves a leisurely start—sleeping in, then enjoying a peaceful breakfast in the garden as the warm sunlight filtered through the palms. The atmosphere at L’ma Lodge encouraged relaxation, and we embraced it fully.

A Poolside Moment with Indie

Joy in the Water

After breakfast, I took Indie for a swim in the oasis-like pool, nestled within the garden’s greenery. The water was refreshing, and Indie was in absolute bliss—giddily fluttering her feet, splashing, and giggling with delight.

Watching her pure, unfiltered joy in such a magical setting was one of the most heartwarming moments of the trip. It reminded me that sometimes, the most unforgettable experiences come from the simplest pleasures.

Indie and I in the pool

Family pool experience

Into the Atlas Mountains

From Desert Palms to Mountain Passes

Leaving Skoura, we drove into the heart of the Atlas Mountains—the highest mountain range in North Africa, stretching almost the entire length of Morocco. These rugged peaks form a natural barrier between the Sahara Desert and Morocco’s coastal plains, and driving through them is nothing short of spectacular.

Our destination was Telouet, a small village tucked deep in the mountains, where we had booked a stay in a family-run guesthouse. But along the way, we made a few scenic and cultural stops—chief among them, the famed city of Ait Benhaddou.

Ait Benhaddou – Majestic but Commercialized

Beauty Framed in Souvenir Shops

Ait Benhaddou is an 11th-century fortified city, constructed of mudbrick and set dramatically against a hillside. Its cinematic beauty has earned it a place on UNESCO’s World Heritage list—and in countless films and television shows. It’s often considered Morocco’s most iconic kasbah, and for good reason.

Today, a handful of local families still live within its ancient walls, relying heavily on the tourism that sustains the town. Visiting was an enjoyable experience, and there’s no denying how photogenic and atmospheric the place is. But the path leading up to it was lined with shops, cafes, and vendors, giving it a very commercialized feel.

While it’s well worth a few hours of exploration, I personally find myself more drawn to Morocco’s quieter, lesser-known villages, where the experience feels less curated and more lived-in.

Mud Brick City of Bennadou

Paula and Indie at the Mud Brick City of Bennadou

Mountain Roads and a Speed Trap Surprise

Smooth Roads, Light Traffic… and My First Ticket

As we wound our way through the Atlas Mountains, I was initially concerned about the condition of the roads—especially with a baby in the car. But to my surprise, the roads were in excellent shape, recently paved and well-maintained. The lack of traffic—likely due to the Eid holiday—made for a peaceful and scenic drive through mountain passes and small villages.

Just as I was settling into a relaxed rhythm, I got my first-ever speeding ticket—for going a mere 2 miles per hour over the limit near the entrance to a village.

A Lesson in Moroccan Enforcement

Radar Guns, Uniforms, and a $15 Fine

A group of Moroccan policemen in old-fashioned khaki uniforms had set up a radar trap, clearly lying in wait for unsuspecting drivers. I was waved down, pulled over, and escorted to a small plastic chair on the side of the road—where I felt more like a student called to the principal’s office than a road criminal.

After a brief scolding and a mild lecture, I was issued a $15 fine, payable immediately, with my passport and license recorded in an official-looking ledger. It was a mild inconvenience, but also a memorable reminder that Morocco has its own rhythms and rules—and they’re enforced, even in the middle of the mountains.

View of a village along a river deep in a canyon gorge

Snow capped Atlas Mountains

Berber Village in the Mountains

Arrival in Telouet

A Canyon-Edge Welcome in the High Atlas

After a few hours winding through the scenic roads of the Atlas Mountains, we arrived at the Berber village of Telouet—a quiet, rugged settlement perched along the edge of a river canyon. Our guesthouse sat near the cliffside, its modest exterior blending into the mountainous landscape.

When we pulled in, I stepped inside to check in, only to find the place completely empty. The doors were open, but no one was around. I searched the building, floor by floor, calling out, but it seemed we had arrived during a moment of perfect stillness.

Moroccan Hospitality, Baby First

Figuring the owner was at the mosque for prayer, I made a few calls. Sure enough, a man answered apologetically, and about ten minutes later, he emerged—half-dazed from a nap in the vehicle parked beside ours.

The moment he saw Indie, he lit up, making googly faces and tickling her feet. We would quickly learn that in Morocco, men absolutely adore babies—perhaps even more visibly and warmly than women. Their affection was genuine and immediate, and it became a recurring theme throughout our stay in the country.

Rustic Comfort, Endless Tea

The guesthouse was cozy and full of character, though a little dusty and rough around the edges. Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t have minded—but with a baby, I found myself more attuned to cleanliness and safety.

Still, the real charm of the stay came with dinner and tea. We were served hearty, traditional Moroccan meals—large portions, rich flavors, and more than enough to share. Alongside the food came endless kettles of sweet mint tea, poured with flourish and always offered with a smile.

Despite the rustic conditions, the warmth of the people and the food made it all worthwhile.

Paula, Indie and Cienne in the guesthouse

Large Moroccon dinner in the guesthouse

Old wooden doors in the flower bed outside the guesthouse in morning

The Haunted Legacy of Telouet Casbah

A Palace of Beauty, Betrayal, and Decay

Just a short drive from our guesthouse stood the Telouet Casbah, once a glorious palace known for its intricate murals and majestic interiors. It had belonged to a powerful local ruler who betrayed the Moroccan king, an act that led to his family’s ostracization and the gradual abandonment of the fortress.

In recent years, the casbah suffered even further—a devastating earthquake had swept through the Atlas Mountains, killing thousands and leaving the structure badly damaged. It was now deemed unsafe to enter, a shell of its former self, awaiting restoration that may never come.

Searching for a Vanishing Monument

Deserted Shops and Tense Encounters

Still, I was determined to see the casbah, even if only from the outside. We navigated narrow dirt roads, weaving through quiet stretches of village life until we found it.

The scene was somber. The front of the casbah was lined with shuttered tourist shops, relics of better days when the site had drawn a trickle of visitors. Schoolchildren played soccer nearby, their laughter echoing through the stillness. Only two shopkeepers remained, clearly desperate for business.

Their eagerness quickly escalated into a heated argument over us—competing for our attention and potential money. Voices rose. Gestures became aggressive. The situation teetered on the edge of violence.

I swiftly picked up Indie, put her back into the vehicle, and with a polite but firm goodbye, we drove away.

A Symbol of Fading Grandeur

The Telouet Casbah, once a center of power, now stood as a symbol of faded glory, its walls cracked and future uncertain. Though we never stepped inside, seeing it—even from the outside—was a powerful reminder of how history, politics, and natural disaster can reshape even the most enduring monuments.

Soccer match in front of an old abandoned casbah in Telouet

Day 3 – Into the Chaos of Marrakesh

Heat, Horns, and Narrow Alleys

After navigating the winding mountain roads of the Atlas, we descended into the 1,000-year-old imperial city of Marrakesh—and into complete sensory overload. The streets were a maze of donkey carts, motorbikes, honking cars, and people weaving through in every direction, all under the glare of 110-degree heat—hotter than anything we’d experienced even in the Sahara.

By the time we reached the city, I was thoroughly drained and made the easy decision to return our rental car a day early rather than deal with the impossible task of parking in the medina.

At the rental return center near the airport, I waited in a long outdoor line under the scorching sun. Then, I hired a taxi to take us into the heart of the old city, where our next stay awaited.

Arrival at the Riad

Wheelbarrow Porters and Winding Walkways

The taxi dropped us off at the entrance to a narrow alleyway, part of Marrakesh’s ancient pedestrian-only medina, where cars are forbidden and only motorbikes and foot traffic can navigate the labyrinth of alleys. A nearby local man with a wheelbarrow offered to help us transport our luggage through the maze.

We walked for 20 minutes, winding through tight corridors lined with high walls, where the sounds of daily life echoed: children playing, metal doors creaking open, and the rhythmic clang of hammers on copper from nearby artisans.

An Oasis Within the Walls

Serenity, Stone Fountains, and Sweet Incense

When we finally arrived at our riad, a traditional, family-run home said to be 500 years old, all the stress melted away. We were instantly captivated by its architectural beauty and sense of calm. The home rose three floors around a central courtyard, open to the sky above.

A small stone pool with a gurgling fountain sat at the center, surrounded by mosaic tiles, carved woodwork, and soft cushions. We were greeted with afternoon mint tea and biscuits, a timeless Moroccan ritual.

The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the gentle sound of water mixing with the distant call to prayer created a tranquil ambiance that quickly lulled me into a much-needed nap. After the chaos of the streets, this riad became our blissful retreat for the next few days.

Old mosque in marrakesh as scene from the roof top terrace of our riad

Pushing Indie down the side walk to the riad

Inside the riad

Magical riad

Common area

Paula and Indie in our bedroom

Indie and I going for a swim in the pool inside the riad

Rooftop Dining in Marrakesh

A Night of Flavor and Conversation

That evening, we were treated to a lavish traditional Moroccan dinner on the rooftop terrace of our riad, overlooking the rooftops and minarets of old Marrakesh. As the city transitioned from the heat of day into the cool, animated energy of night, the view was simply breathtaking.

A friend of ours had arranged for us to meet a local Moroccan woman—a warm and insightful freelance guide who lived in Marrakesh. She joined us for dinner, offering wonderful conversation and local context as we dined under the stars.

The Energy of Eid in the Medina

Music, Drums, and Local Joy

After dinner, I stayed behind to take care of Indie, while Paula and her mom set off into the city with our new friend to explore Marrakesh at night.

It was the days following Ramadan, and the city was buzzing with celebration. The streets of the medina pulsed with life—music, clapping, and rhythmic drums echoed through the alleys, mingling with the laughter and chatter of locals out enjoying the cool night air.

What struck me most was that the joy wasn’t just for tourists—this was Marrakesh for Marrakshis. Families filled the squares, street performers entertained children, and cafés overflowed with conversation. The city felt authentically alive.

Staying Back, Soaking It In

Though I’d visited the medina on a previous trip and could have easily joined, I decided to stay back with Indie. At just under a year old, the crowds, sounds, and sensory overload would have been too much for her.

Instead, I held her as she drifted off to sleep, the muffled energy of the city in the distance, and felt grateful to witness Morocco again through a new lens—not as a solo adventurer, but as a father.

Our meal on the roof top terrace of our riad

Tea and biscuits

Farewell to Marrakesh

Leaving the Riad, Carrying the Memories

Reluctantly, we said goodbye to our peaceful riad, its sunlit courtyard, and the serene rhythm that had provided us with a much-needed pause in our journey. Though it was hard to leave the tranquility and warmth of that special place, we packed up in the early afternoon and made our way through the narrow alleyways once more, headed for the airport.

Onward to Spain

From the Red City to the Costa del Sol

We boarded our RyanAir flight to Málaga, Spain, filled with mixed emotions—a sense of sadness at leaving Morocco, but also excitement for what lay ahead. As the plane lifted off over the red rooftops of Marrakesh, I looked out the window knowing we’d only scratched the surface of what Morocco had to offer.