Marrakech Marathon

6,500 runners from 20 countries, racing through the busy streets of Morocco's former capital. An event I watched during a Surf Kayaking Trip in 2019, at a time when kayaking was my life. I never would have guessed that I'd be returning for that race now.

This was the fifth marathon in my journey to join the Seven Continents Club.

How Did We Get Here

I chose Marrakech as it was the most exotic race my Dad was willing to run with me (for now). He and my Mam booked the cheap flight from Dublin for a long weekend, joined by other Irish runners. For me it was the last stop on a slow journey home from Backpacking New Zealand and Backpacking South East Asia. I was excited for the reunion, having been away from home longer than ever before. My flight was from Bangkok to Casablanca, where I'd spend a few days relaxing before my train to meet them in Marrakech.

On route I stayed in Doha, making use of Qatar's stopover deal of $14 per night in a 4-star hotel. The city is beautiful and so easy to explore with a $5 metro pass. Old sandstone buildings, modern skyscrapers, carnivals, falcon markets and furniture shops that only sell carpets & cushions. It felt like a new world I'd have to explore, with amazing food that I couldn't pronounce the names of. I'd highly recommend a stopover if flying with Qatar Airways.

Once I reached Morocco, I fell in love with Casablanca. It's more of a modern, business orientated city compared to the old, historic Marrakech. I saw very few tourists and the chaos of the medina felt more natural than performative. Most of what I ate was from market stalls with locals, having lots of the bread that Morocco is famous for, and always with mint tea. The highlight was sitting for an hour in the almost empty courtyard of Hassan II; Africa's largest mosque which barely looks real. Casablanca was a perfect place to rest and fill up on good food, before taking the train through surprisingly green countryside to our beautiful rental apartment in Marrakech.

It was great to reunite with my parents, and even better to share in their culture shock. We were two minutes from Jemaa-El-Fna, which is the busiest square in Africa. Packed markets line every street with spices, fruit juices, breads and local crafts. Snake charmers and street performers draw big crowds and the busiest streets are at a standstill due to the amount of people. It's unlike anything in Europe, with old sandstone mosques and a loud call to prayer in the background, which brought great novelty to exploring with my parents.

The race expo was the day before the marathon. Basic but nice, and set around a huge fountain. Queues to collect our numbers and t-shirts, then the usual running stalls with loud music. I filled up on bread and local snacks all day as we explored the markets and mosques a little more. Then as the sun set we all got an early night.

The Race

The sun began to rise as we walked to the start line. Here we met the other Irish, most of whom my Dad knew, and we got a few photos between our movements to keep warm. The days were sunny and cloudless, but very cold, and the race was no different. Music played at the start and there was a bandstand full of people cheering. As they counted us down, my Dad wished me luck and we set off.

I really enjoyed the race. I ran the first 10km with John, one of the other Irish, which made the time fly by through chats and photo breaks. It was a very sociable run until about halfway, when I had to go into my head to keep the pace up. The route was nice, following a lap of the outskirts, where we saw lots of desert, mosques and old buildings. The weather couldn't have been better too, with the sun shining but a nice chill in the air.

I wasn't feeling my best so the last 10km was a tough grind. I listened to music at times and looked forward to the next aid station which always had watermelon and super sweet sultanas. Towards the end it got a little confusing where we were to run, but with some pointers from supporting locals I saw the finish line approaching. One last sprint ticked off another continent.

4hrs 45mins 26s

My Dad finished in 3hr 36mins so he and my Mam were waiting as I crossed the line. A simple finish that looked nicer now in full daylight. We walked home slowly with plenty of stops for photos. I was so thankful for the apartment and chilled out there for most of the day, with lots of local snacks. That night we had dinner with all the Irish which gave a nice community feel and was a fitting celebration.

The Trip

The next few days with my parents were spent eating as much tagine, cous cous and local food as we could. Each morning I'd go out and get a selection of breads, some filled with cream cheese, others with Nutella, and we'd have them on our terrace. We ate in a few different cafe's and restaurants that overlooked Jemaa-El-Fna, enjoying a good view of the chaos.

We visited the Royal Palace, the oldest medina and the main mosques, but mostly just wandered to experience the feel of the markets and the city. We bought lots of souvenirs, only some of which were madly overpriced, and I got a thick carpet hoodie because I was freezing! After their few days, my parents headed to the airport for the journey home. I stayed an extra week to see a little more of Morocco, joined by a tour group of people my age.

First over the icy Atlas mountains (so happy I bought the hoodie), then onto Aït Benhaddou; the village where they filmed Gladiator and Game of Thrones. After a night in a fancy hotel we got to Merzouga, a town on the edge of Algeria and the Sahara Desert. We packed our bags onto camels, put on our keffiyeh's (face coverings) and trekked over sand dunes to reach our nomadic Berber Camp (where I learned that Berber derives from barbarian, and they're actually known as Amazigh). This camp is what I looked forward to most, and the dinner with locals, sandboarding and singing songs around the fire was stunning. We climbed the highest dunes for the sunrise and sunset, which for me was the perfect place to close out this trip.

The return journey was full of fun too. In one hotel we sang songs all night with native Amazigh. They taught us about their culture and history, and I was amazed by the soft and gentle style of their singing. They had us sing songs from our own countries and it was nice to share those on the guitar. Back in Marrakech I said my goodbye's to the group and had one last night of filling up on food before a sentimental walk to the airport. A day later I was at home, trying to process all that had happened in these past four months. I climbed my local mountain Galty Mór to truly mark being home, and with that finally put my feet up.