Cartogramme pal Manuela Hess spent nearly a decade working in Seattle before buying herself a one-way ticket to Bangkok. She bounced all over Southeast Asia and now she lives in Germany, making her living as an experience designer. Whatever the medium—an intuitive web site, a gorgeous interior—Hess is great at untangling tough design problems and returning graceful solutions. The common thread in her work, as well as in her #CGdispatch travelogue, is deep empathy, endless curiosity, and a keen eye for details. Give her a follow on Instagram at @hellamanuela and enjoy her rundown of a recent trip to Morocco….
“Our first stop was the picturesque city of Chefchaouen, or the Blue Pearl as it’s known in guidebooks. (Locals just call it Chaouen.) The stunning and most identifying characteristic of this town is that the whole old city is awash in blue pigment, the application of which I witnessed on a sleepy Sunday morning stroll as the village girls, all outfitted in blue smocks, splashed on a clean layer of the pigment. There isn’t consensus as to its origin, but the leading theory is that Sephardi Jews, who fled here after being expelled from Spain in 1492, painted their settlement blue to mirror the sky and remind them of God. This blue is so ubiquitous in the country that Pantone has a hue named Moroccan Blue.”
“Merchants line the alleys of this Chefchaouen souk, or marketplace, hawking almonds, eggs, fava beans, and heaps of mint and other herbs. Mint is used in hot tea and drunk year-round, even in the summer months. Local tea houses are generally the domain of men, where they smoke cigarettes and chatter, but every restaurant offers mint tea. To make some at home, just pour piping-hot green tea in a tall glass chock full of fresh mint leaves and gobs of sugar.”
“One morning in Chefchaouen, we headed into the medina and saw locals darting away from stands, fresh doughnut rings tied together with strands of grass in either hand. We’d already eaten a full breakfast of olives, fried flatbread, and goat cheese at our guesthouse, Dar Zman, but in the name of journalism, cultural diplomacy, and gluttony, we got the vendor to sell us one doughnut apiece. (They’re typically sold in stacks of eight.) The doughnuts were handed to us hot from the fryer and, after waiting just long enough for them to cool, we easily devoured them.”
“Apart from its blue color, Chefchaouen’s idiosyncrasies include the numerous feline strays (though well-loved and -fed), the abundance of kif (as half of the world’s hash is grown in the Rif mountains), and the exquisite goat cheese, pictured here, along with a goat butter called smen. Relative to the bustle of other destination cities in Morocco, Chefchaouen is sleepy by comparison, mostly attracting Spanish tourists who ferry over for a long weekend from Tarifa. If I could do it over, I would have saved this chill, azure gem for the end of my trip, right before flying out of Tangier.”
“The medinas of Morocco are walled, narrow, and maze-like, and had the benefit of disorienting past invaders. Our guesthouse in Fez, Riad Jamai, organized a local guide to take us around. Because we are fine exploring freely, the guide probably didn’t benefit us too much except for the access he offered to spaces we might have otherwise felt uncomfortable entering. Locals in Fez were not amused by unsolicited and unpaid photo ops, but with a local guide, we were invited to get up close and personal. For example, we popped our heads into this storefront where these seamsters were shooting the shit, swapping stories in a literal sewing circle as they embroidered djellabas, the loose-fitting hooded robes worn by men and women.”
“Tiny storefront businesses open directly onto the narrow aisles of old town Fez, with public fountains punctuating the way. While mosques, private homes, and riads with generous courtyards are hidden behind tall walls, the street side is bustling with shops showcasing local goods. Intricately carved wood is used for doors and wall paneling and features floral arabesques and Islamic geometric patterns.”
“Fez, which was the capital of Morocco until 1925, contains one of the world’s largest urban pedestrian zones. Artisans such as these spill onto the street and call out to potential buyers as they work. Figs and almonds feature in this region, as well as handicrafts such as leather goods, embroidery, and hammered copper (seen here). Fez is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site and houses the oldest operating university in the world, Al Quaraouiyine, founded in 850.”
“The souks in Fez are organized by the goods they carry. All the leather workers are in the leather district, and you might pass a dozen identical storefronts tantalizing you with crates of dates. Watch your step as you make your way through the fishmongers, who take orders and chop off fish heads accordingly.”
“Pictured here is Morocco’s largest and oldest tannery. Workers at the 1,000-year-old Chouara Tannery in Fez wear long boots and gloves as they move in and among the vats, which hold various dying solutions, including cow urine (a caustic agent to remove hair) and pigeon poop (containing ammonia to soften the skins). The dying pits use many natural vegetable dyes, including indigo (blue), mint (green), saffron (yellow), and poppies (red). Because of the pungent aroma, tour guides sometimes hand out mint springs to waft under your nose. It was here that I scored a gorgeous camel leather pouf, my prized souvenir.”
“Twelve hours after departing Fez, we arrived in the tiny surf town of Taghazout after dark, travel-weary but giddy at the sound of waves. Once a hippie hang-out just north of Agadir on Morocco’s Atlantic coast, it is also known for fishing and production of argan oil. The bus drive from our transfer in Marrakech was beautiful—my eyes were glued to the window. In fact, one of more remarkable traits of Morocco is its stunning and changing landscape. The trains and taxi drives might be long, but the scenery makes it worth it.”
“What better way to recover from the overstimulation of Fez than with rooftop yoga overlooking the Atlantic Ocean? Because Taghazout was a ways off the main cities of Morocco, it was logistically ambitious to fit in in. In fact, most people we met had flown in from Europe to nearby Agadir just for a weeklong surf vacation. Admittedly, flying out of Marrakech kinda harshed my mellow.”
“We had pre-arranged our stay through Surf Maroc, which is owned and operated by a couple of Brits that hire local Berber surf instructors. After a hearty community breakfast in the guest house with the other surf students (mostly English, German, and French), we’d pack up some lunches and head out in groups of four to six of similar skill to scope out the nearby breaks. Our teacher, Said (seen here unloading the boards), used tough love to motivate, and I guess it works because his niece is the local champion surfer.”
“In an otherwise ramshackle area of Taghazout, Surf Maroc maintains some well-appointed digs. My architect buddy and I agreed: From the exterior to the interiors to the graphics, there was a consistently tasteful eye overseeing the operation. It manages to walk the line between thematic without going kitsch. There are actually two different guesthouses: our smaller, more rustic Taghazout Villa, and the larger, modern, luxe Amouage (pictured above), which was a three-minute walk down the road. Both are lovely, and we thoroughly enjoyed hanging around each space—literally, because hammocks.”
“Marrakech. I have such strong and mixed feelings of my single day spent in this ancient yet cosmopolitan city! I stayed in a riad with nice, generous local hosts (look for Christophe on Airbnb). They invited me to share a meal with them—for sure, a highlight of my trip. And I loved the energy of the bustling souks, overflowing with tantalizing delights. But I also experienced the harsh reality of traveling alone as a woman. Marrakech was one of the only times I traveled solo in this widely conservative country; the rest of the trip was spent in the company of a male friend, who was mostly presumed to be my husband. Without him by my side, even covered up, I was approached far more, and sometimes aggressively, which left me feeling utterly drained. In fact, I was manhandled a bit on my walk home at night. I came out of it in tears. Though it was an isolated incident, it left quite the impression.”
“A high-end glass tile sourcer I met on the bus from Agadir to Marrakech tipped me off to La Mamounia hotel, a luxe property a few minutes walk from the old town. The interior designer in me was like 😍, my eyes drinking in as much mosaic tile work as possible. If you go, expect opulence and loads of interior eye candy: symmetrical courtyards with lots of blurring of interior-exterior boundaries, and a jewel-tone palette rich in blues and greens.”
“This will come as no surprise, but the best meals we had were from hole-in-the-wall joints, rather than restaurants that pander to tourists’ needs for sparkling water and clean toilets. 😉 The take-home flavor profile is dried fruit sweetness with tender meat umami savoriness, rounded out with stewed vegetable mildness and pops of tangy preserved lemon or harissa accents. Many meals began with fluffy white bread and a bowl or two of olives. A good rule of thumb for sussing out the authenticity of an establishment in Morocco is to see if there is booze on the menu—99 percent of Moroccans are Muslim and therefore abstain from alcohol.”
“I was in textile heaven on my trip and enjoyed learning about the differences between tribal motifs in Berber rugs, like the ones layered here. After haggling at a shop in Fez, and a great amount of theater from the different actors in the establishment—including much bluffing and bluff-calling—I left with a hand-knotted blue wool rug. Our guide translated the praise that I had ‘haggled like a Berber woman.'”
“My lasting impressions of Morocco are of a proud people, intricately detailed interiors (like the vaulted lobby of the Marrakech train station, pictured here), sweet-savory flavor combinations, dreamy riad courtyards, and stunning landscapes. In addition to experiencing the genuine kindness of strangers, I also came away with a sense of a society where women are still not treated as equals, and about which I’ve been personally grappling with my open-mindedness.”
To see more of Manuela’s adventures, follow her on Instagram at @hellamanuela. Her travel schedule is pretty spontaneous but she has loose plans to visit Germany, Austria, Belgium, and the Netherlands in the coming months.