Morocco

Morocco

Marrakech

We had been preparing for this trip for a while: we had put a lot on the line, and the excitement was explosive. It’s our first trip outside Europe, which may mean nothing to many, but for us it was an all-in for the five of us – me, Letizia, Stefano, Feride, and Giada. Arriving at Marrakech airport is full of anxiety, and you can already feel it in the air: people are everywhere, and everything is much more chaotic and, as we would later discover, friendly. After the first little scam with the airport bus, we head to Riad Rodamón, leave our luggage, and immediately dive into the streets of the city armed with our cameras. The people of Marrakech are a love-hate experience. Most of them jump on you to show you some “festival of colors,” a once-a-week event that is offered to you every day, or to drag you into their shops. And then you have to haggle, haggle, and haggle again.

Morocco

Merzouga desert

Even from a distance, as the dunes come into view, the excitement on the bus rises, as if everyone had suddenly woken up: we had arrived in Merzouga. After another half hour of travel, the bus stops in a parking area, where people are waiting for us with camels. We leave our luggage in the back of the pick-up, and each of us is assigned a camel. The speed at which the caravan sets off is incredible. It feels like being in a postcard: the shadows of the camels on the sand, the dunes glowing red. The two caravans split up: a group with the girls goes ahead while Stefano and I depart shortly after, accompanied by a six-month-old rebellious young dromedary, constantly pulling and resisting. Mohammed tells us it will take at least two months to train him and teach him the route. After some walking, Mohammed makes the camels sit and leads us to the top of a dune, showing us how to write our names in Arabic, tracing them with our fingers in the red desert sand. Meanwhile, a white jeep arrives, and we hear someone calling us. We approach the pick-up and see Feride, Giada, and Letizia sitting in the back with one of the Bedouins driving. We get in too, and without hesitation, the pick-up takes off, bouncing across the desert dunes until we reach the camp for the night. In the evening, while all our fellow travelers sleep in their tents, we go out with Assan, who guides us through the darkness, navigating the dunes as if they were his home. We lie down to watch the sky, the sand still warm beneath us, admiring the Milky Way and the stars in the dark sky. In those moments, you feel an incredible connection with the people next to you, even if they don’t speak your language.

Morocco

Our way back home