Marrakesh began as a camp. In about 1070, the Almoravids, a Berber dynasty from the Sahara, pitched their tents on this plain at the foot of the High Atlas and began to build a city, and within a century it was the capital of an empire that stretched from Spain to Senegal. The name Morocco comes from it. The medina, a walled maze of lanes with the red ochre colour that gives the city its nickname, is still the heart of the place, and the whole thing is a UNESCO site.
The Koutoubia minaret, seventy-seven metres tall, is the landmark, built in the twelfth century by the Almohads, and said to have been the model for the Giralda in Seville. At its foot is the great square of Jemaa el-Fna, where at dusk food stalls, storytellers, musicians and acrobats take over in a spectacle that UNESCO has recognised as intangible heritage. The souks to the north are a dense network of covered lanes, for leather, spices, lanterns, carpets and brass, and the Saadian tombs, the Bahia Palace and the Ben Youssef medersa add quiet courtyards and fine tilework.
The riding is another matter. Marrakesh traffic is chaotic, with scooters, bicycles, carts, taxis and pedestrians all sharing the same space, and the rule is to be predictable and patient. The medina is closed to most vehicles, so park outside and walk, using a guarded car park. From the city, the road to Ouarzazate over the Tizi n'Tichka pass, at about 2,260 metres, begins just to the south-east, a classic mountain road with long bends, villages in red earth and views of snowy peaks. The pass can be icy in winter, and it is busy with trucks.
Marrakesh is a big city of over eight hundred thousand with fuel at every turn, so fill before leaving. Try a tagine, a bowl of harira soup, or an orange juice from the stalls at the square, and sit on a rooftop terrace at sunset to watch the lights come on. Summer is very hot, and spring and autumn are the best seasons.