On the Edge of the Oikumene

A land where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic, a crossroads of Berber, Roman, Arab, and French worlds, Morocco is a place where the West has met the East, and where Yves Saint Laurent, Serge Lutens, and countless European intellectuals found a second home.

The Treacherous Waters

For yachtsmen, the Moroccan coast typically begins at Marina Bay Tangier — a cosmopolitan harbor with aspirations of European chic. Tangier's position is one of obligation; its marina neighbors the geopolitically vital Strait of Gibraltar. Here, the Marina Smir hotel offers a place to stay. The Tetouan region is perhaps the last place where one can comfortably put a friend or non-professional skipper at the helm. Here, the Mediterranean is still delicate, coastal, and relaxed. A full network of Andalusian-style nautical experiences is guaranteed. Whatever you catch, the local kitchens will prepare haute cuisine dishes in one of the many scenic restaurants.

It's wise to take a moment to rest before venturing out into the Atlantic, where experience will be required from everyone on board, from the crew to the guests. One can spend a wonderful time in the Al Hoceima National Park, a biosphere reserve where the marine ecosystem astounds with its richness. Life teems here; visitors can watch dolphins frolicking, sea turtles gliding by, and a multitude of fish.

As you venture out into the ocean and sail south, each new marina offers a fresh surprise. The Rabat-Salé Marina is nestled on a river, surrounded by kasbahs and ancient towers. The journey continues to Casablanca and Mohammedia. From Morocco's largest city and financial capital, the long, challenging passages begin.

The southward journey (further south, even further!) culminates in the sandy beaches of Agadir, where it seems children are born with a kite in their hands. Notable winds also blow in Dakhla — here, the desert breathes right in your face, mixing sand with the friendly trade winds (allowing for easy downwind sailing) or the ruthlessly exhilarating westerly winds.

Here, in every marina, one can easily imagine being a fearless explorer from the Age of Discovery or a desperate Maghrebi pirate from those who controlled these waters so securely and for so long that Sultan Moulay Ismail of the current Alaouite dynasty found it simpler to negotiate with them and integrate the sea rovers into his state's structure. That was long ago, in the 18th century, but here, it feels like yesterday.

Integrated into the economies of Europe, Africa, and Asia, this thalassocracy has always thought broadly and never confined itself to a single religion, economic model, or titular nation. From the early modern period to the present day, Morocco's rulers have maneuvered between different ways of life. The ruling dynasty consistently emphasizes that the state is secular and welcoming to all religions. While upholding Islamic values, it tolerates Christianity and discreetly overlooks the traditional beliefs of the desert peoples.

An educational expedition organized by the Russian Geographical Society, in collaboration with the Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography (Kunstkamera) of the Russian Academy of Sciences, the Academy of Arts, and Mzungu Expeditions and Desert Room Travel, focused on Moroccan crafts and the practices of their preservation. The country aims to carry all its creative and skilled people into the future — the trend for ultra-local experiences is here to stay, promising significant revenue from the experience economy.

The "Land of a Thousand Kasbahs" preserves its heritage at the Academy of Traditional Arts in Casablanca. Located on the coast, just steps from the magnificent new Hassan II Mosque, the school transmits knowledge from experienced masters to the youth of the nation, from jewelry classes to workshops specializing in the famous zellij ceramic mosaic. This complex, fractal-like ceramic tilework (the most intricate pattern is aptly named "consciousness-expanding") adorns madrasas, mosques, and hidden riads.

"Is it all about the clay?" we ask a master at one of the country's main craft production centers, located in Fez. "The earth itself means little — you of all people should know that," he replies, clearly identifying our group as sailors. "It's the water that determines everything, and the clay must absorb as much of it as possible," he allows himself a smile. "The water in the Fez River is unique, which is why the finest pottery works have always been here, along its banks."

In Morocco, perched on the edge of the sea and the desert, the water element is incredibly revered. This cult of water is evident everywhere. It's seen in the 16th-century tunnels that once delivered life-giving moisture from distant springs and oases to cities and are now integrated into the modern water supply system. It's in the ancient Roman mosaics of Volubilis, which frequently depict water themes, nourishing the local olive groves and vineyards. And it was also present in the Phoenicians, the master shipbuilders who were rivals to Roman expansion in the Mediterranean and included a host of sea creatures in their pantheon of gods.

"Tea," the master doesn't ask but announces. We know that here, too, the key is water.

Poured from a great height in a thin stream (a veritable circus skill!), it lands in a thin-walled glass, brewing a mound of fresh mint pressed down by a lump of sugar.

Strong, sweet, and tangy — it seems like this is the very admiral's ritual we should adopt on our own boats. After all, the first "admirals" — an Arabic word — were the Maghrebi pirates themselves.

The real Morocco begins here, carrying you through the springs that feed the world's largest date plantations, across mountain rivers that sweep away concrete barriers in the spring, onwards to the ocean. Crossing it, you are certain to encounter yourself.

Duning

Now this is how you should tune your personal Moroccan experience! Because the first question you'll be asked, no matter which part of Africa you return from, is: "How was the desert?" So, let's leave the boat and venture inland.

The world's largest desert, the Sahara, is mostly a rather dreary rocky plateau. Only here and there can you find the landscape depicted in books — ochre-orange dunes that shift with the wind. There are two such iconic, cinematic deserts in Morocco, both known as "ergs," meaning "seas of dunes."

Erg Chebbi, with sand heights reaching 150 meters, located 40 km from the Algerian border, stretches 22 km from north to south but is only 5 km wide from west to east. It stubbornly covers the local outpost of civilization, all kinds of jeep safaris, and sandboarding with its sands. The village of Merzouga supports any scenario for visiting the spectacular desert, which begins right beyond its mud-brick walls.

At the top of the modern Saharan social pyramid are the camel owners. The price of a dromedary isn't far behind a used Volkswagen Touareg: the ship of the desert, if not more efficient, is certainly more impressive than an SUV. At the bottom are the humble owners of quad bikes, dreaming of something grander.

Horses are generally forbidden in the erg, but for certain groups — such as the Russian Geographical Society — exceptions are made. Part of the journey over the orange dunes can be done at a walk, transitioning to a trot when the intelligent animal feels solid, stony ground beneath its hooves — the real Sahara.

The hearts of visitors, however, remain not in the basic "black desert" but among the wandering golden sands under the deep blue sky. Only the color indigo can be richer: you quickly learn to transform cotton cloth with natural dye into a tagelmust — a mix of veil and turban. The Tuareg themselves have twenty-five ways of draping it for all situations in the desert. Whether moving actively or calmly, in different temperatures and wind strengths, the functional transformation of the headdress happens instantly. Tourists are often told about the formerly burdensome obligation to kill anyone who saw their face.

The expedition of scientists from the Russian Geographical Society and the Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography is dedicated to studying how the ancient desert economy intertwines with the modern experience economy.

One of its striking manifestations is the luxury camps nestled between the dunes, typically 10–15 km from Merzouga. You can make an authentic, leisurely journey there on camels or speed there in SUVs whose names often reference that very ethnic group. In any case, the exclamation point is provided by the desert sunset: the sand visibly changes color before your eyes, the sun dips below the horizon faster than the air temperature drops. It grows cool, and you genuinely appreciate the welcoming glow of the campfire.

The tents, despite their glamorous ambiance (showers, king-size beds, branded cosmetics, and full-length mirrors), retain the Saharan intangible DNA. For instance, traditional Maghrebi trance music of the caravans, Gnawa, resonates within them. The rhythm of the Gnawa melodies is still set by the clinking of chains, imitated by metallic castanets called krakebs. In the Sahara camps, the line between serving tourists and genuine self-expression is wonderfully blurred.

I recall how, after a two-hour musical performance under the overarching starry sky, the performers retreated to applause... only to continue playing and singing among themselves until almost dawn. They just couldn't stop. The guests lay silent in their tents, listening to this spontaneous jam session from the tradition-bearers themselves.

The voluntary choice to live in the desert (which some nomads genuinely have) commands respect. It seems impossible to exist here except in defiance of the elements. But the locals don't see it that way — they aren't just surviving; they are living. Let's refrain from calling the Berbers by that arrogant term inherited from Roman times. The imperial "barbarians" is out; the autochthonous "Amazigh," meaning "free people," is in. Especially since "freedom" hits close to the truth. The freedom of movement for modern nomadic communities is ensured by their herds of goats and sheep, near which they set up their felt transformable tents. The flexible structure ideally withstands the winds, protects from the heat, and can even serve as a water collector if it rains. State subsidies help maintain this traditional way of life, and there's a calculated reason for it. Sheep are a significant part of the national economy. Every Moroccan Muslim must slaughter at least one sheep at least once a year, and if the faithful are not in the country, substantial sums are sent for remote slaughter. The Sahrawis expertly perform their age-old work even in the world of electronic money transfers.

Sometimes, oases appear in the desert. Transit trade and the caravans that connected West Africa below the Sahara with the North and then Europe revived ancient techniques for finding, conserving, and using groundwater, techniques previously used by the Sahrawi — a collective term for tribal confederations from Timbuktu to Morocco.

Rissani, the cradle of the Moroccan royal house, captivates travelers with a sea of palm trees. The world's largest date plantations stretch around the city. This is where the most expensive variety, "Medjool," grows — delightful five-centimeter energy packets that Moroccans buy for weddings.

The ruling dynasty literally "remembers its roots": during the French protectorate, the number of palm trees fell from 5 to 3 million, and one of the state's primary goals for the next five years is to restore this green sea. Interestingly, this priority ranks no lower than modern ambitions like leadership in mineral trade or the mega-project to export solar energy... to the UK. The light from the concentrating optics is so dazzling during the day that travelers cautiously wonder if they are witnessing a rocket launch.

In the desert, you don't get surprised, because the word is too weak. Here, everything stuns you into silence!