The Morocco mini-break: A new Christmas tradition?

It's probably a stretch to call something a Christmas tradition if it's only happened once, but as my EasyJet flight was winging its way back home to London, I was feeling fairly pleased with myself - my plan to opt-out of Christmas and escape to Marrakech for a mini-break had been an unqualified success.

So good that I'm already thinking of booking it in again for next year - traditions have to begin somewhere, right?

I'm not a total grinch - there's lots of things that I like about the festive season - but, for a range of reasons, I just didn't fancy any of the Christmas options that were on the table.

"There were invitations..." I explained to my friend Uli, when he asked why I was spending Christmas by myself. "I just thought a solo Christmas was what I needed."

"I mean, it's not like you're disappointing anyone..." he shrugged. "No one is going to be devastated that you're not spending Christmas with them, right?"

"I guess that's about it..." I acknowledged, once again disarmed by his brutal honesty.

This was my first visit to Morocco. It's a place that has always been fairly high up on my travel wish-list but as I was brainstorming Christmas mini-break options that weren't going to be very Christmassy, Morocco ticked a lot of boxes.

I booked four nights in Marrakech.

The flights from London were straightforward, but the accommodation was a bit more of an unknown. I didn't have much cash to splurge on the trip but I also wanted something nice - after all, this was my Christmas treat to myself. I didn't want the trip to be miserable.

My googling of "gay friendly accommodation in Marrakech" brought me to Dar Zaman. It looked nice, the price was good, and they were responsive as I tried to match up their availability with my travel dates.

Technically, there is a difference between a Riad and a Dar. A Riad is a house with a courtyard garden, whereas a Dar is a house with a courtyard but no garden. A Dar is sort of a small version of a Riad. Dar Zaman was an old-style residence that had been converted into a small guesthouse.

It's not that I was looking for a particularly queer experience in Morocco. I was travelling by myself, I can tone down the faggotry when I have to. I wasn't looking for the Joe Orton experience. But I am undeniably a gay man and I didn't want the accommodation to be uncomfortable in that regard.

In advance of my arrival, Dar Zaman sent through helpful information on how to best navigate arrival at the airport, and helped me to book a transfer. It was early evening and dark when I emerged from the airport - finding the driver was a little chaotic, but I'm used to that kind of thing and I was soon being bundled into a car and driven through the unfamiliar streets of Marrakech.

When the car eventually came to a stop, the driver got out and I retrieved my luggage from the trunk.

"Someone will come..." said the driver.

Soon enough, a young guy appeared across the street, smiled and waved and I followed him. He told me his name but it wasn't until the next day that I was able to retain that this was Adil, one of the team of five that keep Dar Zaman running.

Once I'd been staying at Dar Zaman for a few days, I had a better sense of the neighbourhood and how to navigate through it. But that first night, as we walked through maze-like dibly lit narrow alleyways, past various groups of men, I was smiling to myself at the absurdity of the situations that I get myself into. We seemed to be walking in circles - we probably were. I began to assume that this was how I would die - I wondered how long it would take for news of my death to reach my family.

Eventually, we reached a dead-end, Hamza opened a door, and we had arrived. We were in a small, attractive courtyard - a space that is hard to imagine exists when looking at the exterior of the building.

My room was comfortable, relaxed. All my anxiety quickly dissipated. This was going to work.

By this time, it was late, and I was pleased that I'd accepted Dar Zaman's suggestion to have dinner in-house upon arrival. Dinner was served to me beside an open fire in a cosy sitting room - lentils, followed by lamb tagine, and then orange cake for dessert. It was bliss.

Again, at Dar Zaman's suggestion, I'd booked a half-day walking tour - which is how I started Day 2 of my Marrakech mini-break.

I'm not crazy about organised tours, but this was a one-on-one tour with Yussuf - an accredited local guide. As we wound our way through the narrow lanes of the medina - dodging the motorbikes that weaved through the crowds - I learned a lot about Morocco, Berber culture, the neighbourhood, and the artisans and craftsmen that create everything that is available for sale.

That evening, I'd arranged to again have dinner at Dar Zaman - vegetable soup, followed by a chicken tagine - I ate in front of the open fire. It was Christmas eve, there was no sign of any booze, there was no sign of Mariah Carey. Life was good.

Christmas Day, I fuelled up on breakfast - each day, breakfast was a feast and it was delicious - then tested my navigation skills to explore the medina.

I spent time in Le Jardin Secret and also the museum. The museum was okay, but the Secret Garden was particularly interesting - a haven of greenery amidst the hustle and bustle of the medina.

That evening, Hamza from Dar Zaman recommended Limoni for dinner - a nearby restaurant. The courtyard of the restaurant was dominated by an enormous lemon tree, under which everyone was seated. I had another tagine. I'm a big fan of tagines.

Boxing Day, I'd signed up for a cooking class with Karima - the cook at Dar Zarman. To begin the cooking class experience, Adil took me to the local market to buy some vegetables. On the way, he pointed out the local community oven and the local hammam - each neighbourhood within the medina has a community oven, a hammam, as well as a small mosque.

"Perhaps you would like to try the hammam this afternoon?" suggested Adil.

I'd ruled out any of the touristy hammam experiences that I'd seen advertised but an opportunity to experience a small local hammam was too good to pass up.

The cooking class was a joy. Karima delivered most of her instructions in French, with Adil on-hand to translate as required.

We prepared a lamb tagine with prunes, fried aubergine, a green bean salad, a tomato chutney, and an orange salad. I really enjoyed the whole process and got a better understanding of the flavours of Moroccan cuisine.

I got to eat everything that we'd prepared for my lunch. It was way too much food but I got through it.

"Are you ready for the hammam?" asked Adil, immediately after I'd finished my lunch.

Although I was struggling to fight off a food coma, I knew that I needed to man-the-fuck-up and push through.

The hammam was literally half a block from Dar Zarman. We stopped at a shop on the way to buy soap and then Adil helped me to pay for the ticket and explained to the guys at the hammam that I didn't speak any Arabic.

"Okay, take off your clothes here - leave your underwear on - then this man will be the one to wash you..." explained Adil. "I'll see you when you get back."

This wasn't something that I would have been confident enough to try and navigate on my own. Even with Adil's guidance and instruction, I still felt as if I was completely out of place, had no idea what was happening, and that I probably shouldn't be there.

I did my best to follow the gestures of the man designated to wash me. He wasn't particularly expressive but he manhandled me into the various positions required. I was doused with buckets of water, lathered up with soap, scrubbed with a brush, and then rinsed off with more buckets of water.

There were elements that were similar to an experience that I'd had in Istanbul, but this was a lot more functional. I felt a bit like a prize pig being pampered. I loved it.

Obviously, the hammam is a homosocial space. I'm used to navigating homosocial spaces but - contrary to my expectations or fantasies - I didn't really pick up any sexual energy or vibe. The hammam seemed busy with men of all ages, washing themselves, being scrubbed, sometimes scrubbing each other. There were plenty of young attractive men - most wearing quite loose-fitting shorts - I felt a bit out of place in my tight black briefs.

Maybe I was reading too much into it, but the dude who was scrubbing me did seem to make plenty of contact with my bulge - there was no reason for him to be repeatedly rubbing across my crotch unless he wanted to. Obviously, I was totally relaxed about that, but I did kind of want to let him know that if he wanted to touch me I wasn't going to protest in any way. It did make me wonder how you end up as an official scrubber in a local hammam. In a country where it's illegal to be gay, this kind of homosocial space is probably one of the few ways to experience man-on-man intimacy.

That evening, I went for a walk through the medina. At night, the main square is buzzing with a myriad of food stalls but all I needed was the orange salad that I hadn't had space for at lunch.

Marrakech seems to be a city of young men but I didn't attempt any sexual encounters. I'm sure you could find sex if you went looking for it but no one gave me any kind of vibe, and hook-up apps can be a bit problematic. There have been stories of tourists getting into trouble in Morocco - either with local guys or with the authorities. There's also a risk that you're putting local guys in a vulnerable position if you hook up with them - if anything goes wrong, your embassy will probably be able to sort it out for you but not for the dude that you've been fucking.

Dar Zarman only has four rooms but there was a steady turnover of guests during my short stay there - Americans, French, English - mostly straight, one gay couple. Was Dar Zarman gay-friendly? Absolutely. I was impressed by the staff. They all spoke French, English, and Arabic - probably Berber as well - and all had hospitality training.

I could easily return to Marrakech next Christmas but I am also thinking of other parts of Morocco that I could explore as part of my now continuing tradition to opt out of the frenzy of the festive season.

What's life like for LGBTQ people in Morocco?

What's life like for LGBTQ people in Morocco? Let's take a look at some of the key equality indicators.

Is it legal to be gay in Morocco?

No.

Same-sex sexual activity is criminalised under Morocco’s penal code. It can be punished by 6 months  to  3 years imprisonment. Additional fines can also be imposed.

The laws seem to be enforced fairly sporadically and inconsistently by the authorities.

Is there anti-discrimination legislation in place to protect gay men in Morocco?

No. There’s no legislative protection from discrimination or harassment based on sexuality.

Is there marriage equality in Morocco?

No. There is no legal recognition of same-sex relationships.

What’s life like for gay men who live in Morocco?

It is illegal to be gay in Morocco.

Being gay is seen as a sign of immorality, contravening the traditions of Islam that shape life in Morocco.

The laws against same-sex sexual activity are enforced sporadically, with local people generally treated more harshly than foreign nationals.

Morocco’s government actively discourages any tolerance, education, or advocacy regarding LGBTQ rights.

Is Morocco safe for gay men to visit on vacation?

Morocco has long been a popular destination for queer travellers, but if you’re considering a visit to Morocco, you need to proceed with extreme caution.

There has generally been more tolerance of foreign gay men in popular destinations such as Marrakech, however this often takes the form of prostitution by local people looking to make some money from visiting foreign nationals.

Plenty of gay men have visited Morocco without incident, however gay tourists are sometimes targeted for robbery or extortion and that can get tricky – this is a country where being gay can land you in prison.

A run in with the local authorities can be problematic for foreign nationals, but life-threatening for people who live there.

If you’re visiting Morocco, and hooking up with local guys, you can be placing them in material danger.