Morocco: The Trip That Didn't End When I Came Home

My journey began with a flight to Atlanta, where I would catch a direct flight to Marrakech and meet several of the women joining the trip.

A small group of us had decided to arrive a day early, giving ourselves time to settle in before the adventure officially began.

Our group eventually numbered 16 women, ranging in age from 23 to 69.

Sixteen women. Different personalities, different backgrounds, different stages of life.

You might think this had the potential to be disastrous.

But something unexpected happened.

There was an almost immediate feeling of sisterhood.

I loved hearing everyone's stories. Where they came from, what they did in their everyday nine-to-five lives, their travel experiences, and what inspired them to explore the world.

I wasn't just interested in where they'd traveled. I wanted to know who they were.

Over the coming days, we would laugh, dance, help one another through unexpected challenges, and share experiences that none of us would soon forget.

And it all started with a food tour.

One of the women who arrived early suggested a food tour through the souks.

Don't ask me twice.

I'm always up for a tour that involves trying different foods!

We booked an experience through GetYourGuide, and it turned out to be the perfect introduction to Marrakech—and to one another.

We wandered through the souks, sampled olives, tried prickly pear that turned our tongues red, and tasted a few things that we collectively agreed weren't going to become our new favorites.

We talked, laughed, shared stories, and kept walking even when the rain started.

It was one of those days when nothing particularly extraordinary has to happen for the experience to become memorable.

The food was wonderful (well, most of it!), the city was fascinating, and the conversations flowed easily.

Looking back, that afternoon laid the foundation for friendships that would carry us through the rest of the trip.

Little did I know just how much we would need one another a few days later.

After our time in Marrakech, we headed into the countryside for hiking before eventually making our way toward the Sahara.

One day's activity was described as a light hike followed by tea.

Perfect!

I had brought my usual hiking gear: boots, poles, backpack. I was especially prepared because I would be hiking in the Canary Islands immediately after Morocco.

A couple of women opted out of the excursion, which was perfectly fine. The rest of us set off with our local guide, Jamal, a good friend of our tour guide, Fouad.

It was a beautiful day, with wonderful scenery and great conversations.

And then Jamal explained that part of our hiking route had been compromised.

Apparently, heavy rain the previous week had washed away sections of the trail.

What exactly did that mean for us?

Well, it meant we were about to start billy-goating our way around a mountain.

Literally.

We scrambled through narrow, slot-canyon-like passages and climbed over boulders that didn't seem particularly interested in being climbed.

At one point, I needed Jamal to hoist me up a rock that I couldn't manage on my own.

There was swearing.

There was crying.

And somehow, there was laughing.

We all made it. We lived to tell the story!

But what happened afterward turned a challenging day into one of my favorite memories of Morocco.

Jamal welcomed us into his family home, where we were treated to traditional tea and a lovely lunch.

We were having such a wonderful time that the afternoon turned into something entirely unexpected.

We dressed in traditional Moroccan gowns, Jamal's sister decorated us with henna, and before long, we were dancing to the music playing around us.

What had started as a supposedly easy hike—and briefly felt like a questionable life decision—ended with laughter, hospitality, and an afternoon I'll never forget.

It was a reminder that some of the best travel memories come from the moments you could never have planned.

Another unforgettable experience was our adventure into the Sahara.

Our day began with a stop at a local shop to choose scarves for our camel ride. After a quick lesson on how to wrap them, we transferred our bags and climbed into what were described as off-road 4x4 vehicles.

Let's just say our drivers were enthusiastic about driving through sand dunes.

Very enthusiastic.

There was racing, bouncing, and enough excitement to make me grateful when we finally reached our destination.

And there they were.

The camels.

Sitting patiently in the sand, waiting for us.

They were majestic.

Somehow, I ended up at the very front of our caravan, leading all 16 women across the Sahara.

As we started moving, I turned around and looked back.

Behind me was this incredible line of camels, carrying women who had been strangers just days earlier and who now felt like friends.

The dunes stretched out around us.

It was one of those moments when you realize you're experiencing something extraordinary.

And suddenly, I had a thought.

I wish Steve were here to see this.

So I did the only logical thing.

I FaceTimed him.

Yes. From the back of a camel. In the middle of the Sahara Desert.

And somehow, the connection went through!

Steve answered, and for a little while, he got to join me on my camel ride through the screen.

Even halfway around the world, I found a way to bring him along for the adventure.

One of our final experiences together was a visit to a traditional Moroccan hammam.

Someone in the group had described it as a spa experience.

I'm not sure what spas they're going to, but this was definitely not what I had pictured!

I will say one thing: I am grateful this experience happened toward the end of our trip, after we had gotten to know one another.

Had it been scheduled on day one, I'm not entirely sure how I would have felt.

My group included two women closer to my age and three of the youngest women on the trip.

We were instructed to undress, leaving on only the disposable paper underwear provided.

Well, this was certainly one way to get to know one another!

The attendants spoke very little English, and between gestures and instructions we couldn't quite understand, we did our best to follow along.

We were directed to lie on heated stone slabs, where we were scrubbed and rinsed with buckets of water.

Then the attendants left the room.

And closed the door.

We looked at one another.

Were we finished? Was something else about to happen? Were we supposed to move?

We had absolutely no idea.

Then they returned, instructed us to turn over, and the process began again.

At certain moments, my imagination was getting the better of me. I felt as though I'd wandered into an episode of Criminal Minds rather than a relaxing spa treatment!

By the end, we were thoroughly scrubbed, a little bewildered, and laughing about the entire experience.

I am fairly certain a couple of layers of skin had been removed.

But here's what I remember most.

By that point in our journey, we had become comfortable enough with one another to navigate an unfamiliar and vulnerable experience with humor.

The women who had arrived in Morocco as strangers were now sharing a story we'd be laughing about long after we returned home.

Throughout our journey, I appreciated that our itinerary intentionally included visits to women's cooperatives and women-owned businesses.

Whether we were stopping for lunch, visiting a rug workshop, or shopping, we had opportunities to support Moroccan women and learn about their work.

It added another meaningful dimension to a trip that was already centered on women connecting with women.

And then there was Fouad, our tour guide. He was everything you could hope for in someone introducing you to a country for the first time. He answered our questions, looked after us, and made sure we were comfortable throughout the journey. His care and attentiveness made an already memorable adventure that much more special. Our driver also worked hard to make sure we felt safe and cared for along the way.

From the people who welcomed us into their homes to the women who shared their crafts and businesses, Morocco gave us so many opportunities to connect beyond the usual tourist experiences.

But as the trip came to an end, I realized that some of the most important connections I'd made were with the women traveling alongside me.

Before we said goodbye, I wrote each woman an individual card.

I wanted them to know how much I had enjoyed getting to know them and what our shared adventure had meant to me.

I didn't want those connections to disappear simply because we were boarding flights home.

And they haven't.

We've stayed in touch through birthday cards, emails, and little notes sent just because.

One woman was planning a visit to San Francisco, and we made plans to meet, although a canceled flight unfortunately got in the way.

I'm heading to Atlanta next year, and I've already reached out to a couple of the women who live there.

Another friend sent me one of her favorite books to read. One has invited us to get together with our husbands in Louisiana.

And Debbie sent me a card after returning home, made with a photograph of me riding that camel through the Sahara.

How wonderful is that?

These aren't just names in a group photograph. They're people who have become part of my life.

And then there's Nikki.

The woman whose Instagram stories I followed years ago. The one whose travel recommendations inspired me to explore new places. The person who invited me to take a chance on Morocco.

She's continued to encourage and support me as Steve and I have built Summit & Streets.

It's funny to think that I once sat behind a screen, inspired by someone else's travel stories.

Now I'm sitting here writing one of my own—and she's part of it.

I went to Morocco expecting to discover a new country, experience a new continent, and step outside my comfort zone.

I did all of those things.

But I came home with something I hadn't anticipated: friendships that have continued long after the suitcases were unpacked.

And perhaps that's what makes travel so special.

Sometimes the destination is only the beginning of the story.

Morocco was an adventure I'll never forget. And in some ways, it still hasn't ended.

Explore beyond the highlights. Live beyond the itinerary.