Snow and an abandoned hotel

Morocco is a country that constantly challenges you to throw your prejudices overboard. Just when you think you understand the rhythm of the dusty medinas and the charming chaos, you round a bend and find yourself in a landscape that looks remarkably like the Swiss Alps. Our journey from the hectic Fez to the hushed stillness of Azrou was exactly one of those moments of total disorientation

As the sand-coloured walls of the medina in Fez slowly disappear in our rear-view mirror, we let the impressions of yesterday wash over us once more. We walked more than five kilometres through a souk where we were buried under scents, colours and sounds. Now we are heading into a completely different world.

“There’s snow and it’s cold”

We’ve read a lot about it, but we have no real idea what to expect. We climb steadily as the dry, dusty air of the lowlands gives way to a light breeze that feels increasingly sharp and pure. “There’s snow,” the taxi driver said yesterday. “And it’s very cold,” he added.

In the distance, the snow-capped peaks of the Middle Atlas first appear like a mirage against a clear blue sky. Are those clouds? No, that really is snow. A feeling of excitement stirs in the camper’s cab. The landscape around us grows wilder — and then, suddenly, we are driving through snow.

The chains can stay off, but the fields and hillsides around us are still covered with the remnants of a white blanket. Our thermometer counts down mercilessly: from a comfortable 20°C in the valley to a meagre 12°C at around 2,000 metres altitude. Within a few hours, we drive from green hills into the thin air of a white winter wonderland.

Ifrane, European mirage in the Atlas

Our first stop is Ifrane. We had read quite a bit about it, and the makers of De Vloggende Bestemming, our favourite YouTubers, had been here too. Yet the village surprises us. Where are the flat rooftops and the ochre-yellow walls? Instead, we roll across tarmac that, unlike so many other roads here, is smooth and immaculate.

Ifrane was designed by the French in the 1930s as a ville de villégiature — a retreat for the colonial elite looking to escape the heat of the cities. Today it is home to the prestigious Al Akhawayn University and is known as the ‘St. Moritz of Morocco’.

There is still a dusting of snow on the pavements, but the real white blanket awaits us further on. First, it is time for a ritual that becomes a challenge during Ramadan: the search for coffee. In Ifrane we come across a hotel with its doors thrown wide open. On the terrace stands a waiter who calls out from a distance: “Caffee, monsieur?”

Slightly taken aback, we ask whether it is really possible to have a cappuccino right now. “Bien sûr, no problem,” he assures us. In the display case, pastries and pains au chocolat glisten as though they have just been flown in from a Parisian patisserie. We take a few along for later in the day, with coffee in the camper.

Guardians of the Cedar Forest

The moment we leave Ifrane, the scenery shifts again. The road to Azrou winds deeper into the mountains, and we are swallowed by the shadows of the enormous cedar and oak forests of the Ifrane National Park. The cedar trunks are so thick they seem to have witnessed generations pass. This is the domain of the Barbary macaque, known in common parlance as the Barbary ape.

It is an impressive sight to see them in their natural habitat. We slow down as we spot the first groups along the roadside. Some of the apes sit stoically in the sun, grooming their fur, while the younger ones curiously cross the road to check whether our camper happens to be carrying anything interesting. Their almost-human gaze remains fascinating, but we keep the windows closed. This is their territory, we are merely passing through.

Then, in the middle of a snow-covered plain where the wind roams freely, two enormous snow sculptures suddenly loom up, shaped like lions. A tribute to the now-extinct Atlas lion that once roamed these forests. Who the artists are remains a mystery — but the lions keep a majestic watch over all who pass by.

The Mystery of Ben Smim

After a few hours navigating snow-covered forests and hillsides, we find our pitch for the night: Euro Camping in Ben Smim, just outside Azrou. The setting is anything but ordinary. The campsite is tucked away behind a colossal, abandoned hotel that looms over the hills like a classical castle.

The story behind this building is steeped in mystery. Once this was the Grand Hôtel du Toumliline, a place of extraordinary luxury and prestige. Until the government ordered it to close for good. In the villages around Azrou, the stories still circulate: after a tragic accident during a wild party, with excessive alcohol at the centre of it, the authorities made a drastic decision. The doors closed, forever.

Today, the hotel stands there like a ghost. The windows are blacked out, the doors are locked, but otherwise everything remains intact. You can easily picture how it once was: smoke, music, laughter, and a kind of excess that knew no limits, moral or otherwise.

Silence at 1,400 metres

The campsite itself is a model of simplicity. For 95 dirhams a night, you get no luxury resort, but you do get the essence of campervan life: space, functional facilities and a priceless view. No electricity, no wifi, which forces you to truly switch off and soak in your surroundings.

During the day, the sun at this altitude is your best friend. We put the chairs outside in the bright light and gaze out over the rolling hills of the Atlas. But be warned: the moment the golden glow drops behind the peaks, the cold grabs you by the throat with startling speed. The night here has a rare quality. Barely any traffic on the nearby road, no ambient light — only an overwhelming sky so clear that you can almost reach out and touch the Milky Way.

Deeper into the mountains

The next morning, we want to make an early start, but in Morocco, nothing runs to a tight schedule. The campsite manager is nowhere to be found, but eventually we settle up at the gate, beside the abandoned hotel that watches on in silence. It is precisely these small, unplanned moments that make travelling here so charming. Sometimes you have to work just a little harder, but it always comes together, and usually with a smile.

Ahead of us lies a long drive, deeper into the mountains, along a narrow winding road towards one of Morocco’s most beautiful waterfalls. That will be quite the adventure. How does it turn out? You’ll read all about it in our next blog post.