
10 Days
Morocco Relaxed Pace
Not everyone wants adventure at speed. This Morocco moves gently—longer stays, shorter drives, comfortable beds, and time to sit with a mint tea while the medina flows past. Depth over distance.
Your Route

Day 1
Casablanca → Rabat
A short coastal drive north from Casablanca to Rabat, following the Atlantic corridor between Morocco’s two cities.

Day 2
Fes
Nine thousand alleys. The medina hasn't changed in a thousand years—same crafts, same quarters, same calls echoing off the walls. The tanneries still use pigeon dung. The brass workers still hammer by hand. You get lost. Everyone does. A boy leads you out for a coin. By evening, you've stopped trying to map it. The labyrinth is the point.

Day 3
Rabat → Fes
The imperial road. Rabat to Meknes—Moulay Ismail's granaries still standing, built for horses that never came. Volubilis if you stop—Roman columns rising from wheat fields, storks nesting on ancient stone. Then Fes. The medina doesn't introduce itself. You enter and the century changes.

Day 4
Fes
Nine thousand alleys. The medina hasn't changed in a thousand years—same crafts, same quarters, same calls echoing off the walls. The tanneries still use pigeon dung. The brass workers still hammer by hand. You get lost. Everyone does. A boy leads you out for a coin. By evening, you've stopped trying to map it. The labyrinth is the point.

Day 5
Fes
Nine thousand alleys. The medina hasn't changed in a thousand years—same crafts, same quarters, same calls echoing off the walls. The tanneries still use pigeon dung. The brass workers still hammer by hand. You get lost. Everyone does. A boy leads you out for a coin. By evening, you've stopped trying to map it. The labyrinth is the point.

Day 6
Fes → Marrakech
A direct highway drive from Fes to Marrakech, covering the distance in approximately six hours.

Day 7
Marrakech
The souks spiral inward by specialty—leather, brass, carpets, spices. Each turn narrows. Bahia Palace holds its painted ceilings in afternoon shadow. The hammam strips you down to quiet. By evening, Jemaa el-Fna transforms. Smoke rises from a hundred grills. Storytellers gather crowds. The square has done this for centuries. It doesn't need your permission.

Day 8
Marrakech
The souks spiral inward by specialty—leather, brass, carpets, spices. Each turn narrows. Bahia Palace holds its painted ceilings in afternoon shadow. The hammam strips you down to quiet. By evening, Jemaa el-Fna transforms. Smoke rises from a hundred grills. Storytellers gather crowds. The square has done this for centuries. It doesn't need your permission.
Day 9
Marrakech → Ourika Valley
The road climbs south through the Haouz plain, red earth giving way to green as you enter the valley. The Ourika River runs year-round, fed by Atlas snowmelt, cutting through terraced gardens where Berber families grow mint and saffron. You stop at a village clinging to the hillside—stone houses, flat roofs for drying herbs, women washing wool in the river below. The air cools as you climb. A waterfall appears where the valley narrows, mist catching light. Lunch is tajine on a terrace overlooking the gorge, mint tea poured from height. By afternoon you're descending, the city emerging from haze, the call to prayer drifting up from a thousand minarets. Back in Marrakech for sunset. The mountains still visible, still pink, already somewhere you've been.

Day 10
Marrakech
The souks spiral inward by specialty—leather, brass, carpets, spices. Each turn narrows. Bahia Palace holds its painted ceilings in afternoon shadow. The hammam strips you down to quiet. By evening, Jemaa el-Fna transforms. Smoke rises from a hundred grills. Storytellers gather crowds. The square has done this for centuries. It doesn't need your permission.
This journey is a starting point.
These itineraries aren't fixed. They're designed to bend. Add a day in the desert. Skip the city. Stay longer where something pulls you. This is your journey—we shape it around what matters to you.
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