There are trips that reset you – and then there are journeys that reawaken you.
My five-day retreat in Morocco was one of those rare experiences. Ten women from eight countries gathered in the ochre dust of Marrakech, drawn together by curiosity, courage, and a desire to reconnect with ourselves. Led by Callie and Alex, this journey through the senses took us from the vast stillness of the Agafay Desert to the rhythm and colour of the Medina, a tapestry woven with candlelight, laughter (lots of it), and Moroccan magic.
The Desert Calls
We began our adventure an hour outside Marrakech, trading the hum of the city for the silence of the Agafay Desert, a landscape that looks like the moon brushed with gold. It’s a place that humbles you; where rolling sand-coloured hills stretch endlessly, and every sunset paints the world in amber and rose.
Our home for the first two nights, La Pause Marrakech, was a hidden eco-lodge tucked between dunes and olive trees. There was no Wi-Fi, no electricity — just candlelight, starlight, and a calm so deep it felt sacred. Clay-walled lodges framed with Berber textiles opened onto views of the horizon. Every corner glowed with lanterns, brass trays, and woven baskets, a masterclass in understated Moroccan beauty.
That first afternoon, we met by the pool, ten strangers laughing like old friends, before gathering in the olive grove for dinner. Long wooden tables were laid with flickering candles, terracotta plates, and platters of steaming tagine rich with saffron and preserved lemon. Wow, expectations exceeded.
As darkness fell, Alex led us in a fire ceremony, inviting us to set intentions for the days ahead. Sparks danced into the night as we released old fears and opened ourselves to connection. Above us, the desert sky bloomed with stars. It felt as if the universe itself was listening.
Day Two: Movement, Magic, and Moroccan Rhythm
The following morning began with breathwork and gentle stretches, the scent of desert sage hanging in the air. Then came a burst of pure joy — a 10-minute cosmic DJ session that had us dancing barefoot, talk about a way to boost the mood and energy even futher – as if we weren’t already bursting with happiness.
Breakfast was simple perfection: fresh msemen (Moroccan pancakes), soft-boiled eggs, honey from local hives, and mint tea poured high into glass tumblers so it foamed like champagne. And the shakshuka… OMG! I am not normally a fan, but this, wow! A rich, slow-cooked sauce of tomatoes, peppers, onions, and garlic with the best eggs. The yolks sat like golden jewels in the centre, ready to be scooped up with pieces of warm, freshly baked bread. It was the kind of breakfast that made you sit a little longer and wonder why life at home can’t taste this good.
After a lazy few hours by the pool, the quiet gave way to adventure – an afternoon ATV ride through the Agafay Desert. The wind against our faces as we drove through the golden hills, I was hoping for a bit more speed but tried my best to keep my competitive side in check.
Unlike the rolling sand dunes of the Sahara, the Agafay desert is a stone desert, a vast expanse of undulating hills made of sand-coloured rock and earth. At first glance, it looks barren. But stay a while, and its textures start to reveal themselves: golden ridges that shift with the light, dry riverbeds etched like veins across the earth, and pockets of life that surprise you – a cluster of olive trees here, a nomad tent there, a herd of goats making their slow, sure-footed way across the valley.
I think what makes Agafay so special isn’t just its landscape but its feeling, a quiet, grounding energy that encourages reflection. It’s the kind of place where you can hear your own thoughts again, where laughter carries farther, and where the simple act of watching the sun rise or set feels sacred.
Can you tell, I’m really leaning into this journey of the senses?
That evening, we dined in a glasshouse surrounded by cacti and desert rock. Inside, Moroccan rugs, neutral linens, and low candlelit tables transformed the space into a dreamscape. Every woman arrived dressed in desert tones – creams, tans, rust and soft bronze – as if we’d stepped straight out of a magazine spread.
And the content… well Callie & Alex will no-doubt create something very special.
We were serenaded by a traditional Gnawa band whose drums and metallic castanets pulsed through the night. It was so incredibly beautiful. Dinner was slow, joyful, unforgettable.
Day Three: The Taste of Morocco
The next morning, we lingered by the pool before departing La Pause and heading toward our next stop: Casa Abracadabra, the blend of natural landscapes, local materials, and distinctive architecture created an authentic and unforgettable setting. The stunning garden is home to more than 150 century-old olive trees, and strolling through it is a magical experience: the scent of blooming flowers and fruit trees, birdsong at dawn, kittens tumbling at play in the grass, and the towering palms – this place was really special.
That afternoon, a local chef welcomed us for a private Moroccan cooking lesson. We chopped vegetables, layered spices, and built tagines that would simmer for hours. Between courses, we learned the art of Moroccan tea-making: green tea, fresh mint, sugar, and a graceful pour from great height, creating the perfect froth.
As our dishes cooked, we gathered for cocktails by the bar (where I ate far too many olives) before sitting down to eat under a canopy of stars. The night hummed with conversation, music, and gratitude, a rhythm we are coming to know well.
Day Four: Craft, Colour, and Connection
Our fourth day began early with breakfast before heading into Marrakech for a pottery class with local artisans. Clay-covered hands and laughter filled the studio before we ventured into the Medina.
But first, lunch.
In Morocco, both restaurants and riads (traditional guesthouses) are designed to open inward, not outward. From the street, many look like simple, unmarked walls, but step through the door, and you’re suddenly in a courtyard filled with fountains, orange trees, and intricate tilework. This layout reflects Islamic and Berber traditions that value modesty, family life, and privacy. It keeps the chaos of the city outside while creating a peaceful oasis within.
We ate at Le Jardin: a lush, secret world of calm and colour. This 1960s riad-turned-restaurant was lovingly restored by Kamal Laftimi (the visionary behind Café des Épices and Nomad) and designed by French decorator Anne Favier. What was once a traditional Moroccan home has been transformed into a tranquil courtyard restaurant filled with palm trees, banana plants, and climbing ivy that spills down from the walls. The space is painted in deep jade tones that give it a timeless, cinematic quality — think Casablanca meets bohemian Marrakech.
The vibe is easygoing and chic, a mix of retro Moroccan style and modern cool. Mosaic-tiled floors, mid-century rattan furniture, and wrought-iron lanterns cast dappled light through the greenery. Lizards bask on sunlit walls while cats nap under tables – it’s all part of the charm.
The souks – a sensory explosion of sights, sounds, and scents. Stalls overflowed with hand-woven rugs, brass lanterns, carved wood, and stacks of spices glowing like jewels. Is there anything better that shopping with a great group of girls? The dream!
Tucked quietly in the heart of Marrakech’s old medina, was the beautiful Ben Youssef Medersa which is the most magnificent examples of Islamic architecture in North Africa. Originally founded in the 14th century and later rebuilt by the Saadian Sultan Abdallah al-Ghalib in the 1560s, it served for over 400 years as an Islamic college, where up to 900 students lived and studied the Qur’an and theology.
Walking through its doors feels like stepping into another world. The medersa’s design is a masterclass in traditional Moroccan artistry: carved cedarwood, intricate stucco, marble columns, and shimmering zellij tilework cover every inch of the courtyard. The central pool reflects the surrounding geometry so perfectly that it’s often hard to tell where stone ends and water begins.
Above, a network of tiny student chambers frames the courtyard, each one simple and humble, a very striking contrast to the elaborate artistry below. You can almost imagine the young scholars leaning over their books by lantern light, reciting verses that once echoed through the tiled halls. Absolutely stunning!
Later, as dusk settled, we climbed to a rooftop terrace for dinner. The sound of music, laughter, and call to prayer rose together in one perfect harmony.
That night, a late-night yin yoga session brought calm after the chaos, soft light, deep breaths, and a sense of grounding before our final day.
Day Five: Sunrise and Stardust
At 4 a.m., we woke in silence, layered in shawls, and drove out to the desert once more. The world was still dark when we arrived, the air cool, the horizon quiet, the desert holding its breath. Then, as the burners roared to life, our balloon began to rise with a softness that feels impossible for something so vast. There’s no jolt, no rush – just a gentle, weightless lift, as though the earth is letting you go.
From above, the desert unfolded beneath us – endless, ethereal, silent. It felt like floating through a dream. Up there, everything is silent except for the occasional sigh of the burner. No wind. No sound. Just stillness, a kind of sacred quiet that you feel more than hear.
From our godlike vantage point we of course captured some exceptional content. Shoutout to the two content queens on our trip – thanks to you, I now pose on command, can find light in any desert, and somehow think my ready for brand deals.
Back on the ground, we returned to Casa Abracadabra for one final afternoon by the pool before dressing for our farewell dinner.
The theme: garden party. Callie and Alex had transformed the terrace into a wonderland with flowers spilling across the table and candles flickering between crystal glasses. A red carpet led the way, laughter filled the air, and it was hard to believe that five days ago we had been strangers.
Perhaps one of the best and unexpected memories from the week, was one of the girls in our group, Jaclyn, would share a story from her writing class, funny, vivid, and alive with detail, she had us hooked and in stitches each time. (Honestly, she must write a book or do standup). But, it felt perfectly fitting in Morocco, as I was reading Tahir Shah’s, In Arabian Nights, while on this trip which detail Morcocco thoughts it stories and storytellers. For centuries, storytellers known as hlaykia have gathered crowds in Marrakech’s Jemaa el-Fnaa square, spinning tales of love, adventure, and wisdom that pass from generation to generation. In Moroccan culture, storytelling isn’t just entertainment, it’s a way of preserving history, sharing morals, and connecting hearts through imagination. As we listened to Jaclyn’s stories, it felt as if we were celebrating that part of Morocco too.
A Sense of Forever
Our final morning was slow. Sunshine, a final swim, and a spa massage that felt like closing a beautiful book you never want to end.
As we said our goodbyes, I realised this retreat had been about far more than travel. It was about presence. About rediscovering joy, sisterhood, and the sensory beauty of being alive.
Marrakech gave us colour, warmth, and rhythm. Callie and Alex gave us connection. And together, under Moroccan skies, we found a little piece of ourselves we didn’t even know we were missing.
