How Morocco’s tranquil capital of Rabat offers a quiet escape from overtourism

Morocco's capital is only the seventh largest city in the country but has plenty to offer

Kasbah del Udayas and the Bouregreg River seen from the Medina district in Rabat. Photo: Sergio Formoso

Rabat might not be the first place that comes to mind when you think of taking an eight-hour flight from the UAE to the very end of North Africa. In Morocco, Marrakesh and Casablanca are the more established tourist destinations and Rabat itself, despite being the capital, is only the seventh largest city in the country. That might all be about to change.

There is a flurry of development in the city, which is why I am in town for the opening of a palatial Ritz-Carlton property 20 minutes from the city centre. The Grand Theatre of Rabat, designed by Zaha Hadid, has also been completed, as has the 250-metre mixed-use Mohammed VI Tower, which looks like something out of a sci-fi film on the banks of the Bou Regreg River. Part of the push, according to my guide, is linked to the country gearing up to co-host the 2030 World Cup. As is often the case, the capital is looking to use the occasion to put itself on the tourist map.

In the meantime, you’ve got this charming city of about 645,000 people largely to yourself as a visitor, which is a real treat in an age of overtourism and constant chaos. The Ritz-Carlton, Rabat Dar Es Salam, where we are staying, is in an even quieter part of a very quiet city. The resort is nestled in an enviable spot – tucked away between the Royal Palace (Dar al-Makhzen), a historic golf course and a sprinkling of foreign embassies. The pristine tree-lined road leading up to the property is the first indication you will also be staying in palatial accommodation, confirmed by the approach up the hotel’s driveway – surrounded by fountains with the sun gently dancing through its landscaped gardens.

After a good night’s sleep and some world-class eggs Benedict on the terrace of Mediterranean Brasserie – overlooking a slice of the hundreds of hectares of gardens the property sits on – our group heads out to explore Rabat’s sights. First stop on the itinerary is Chellah, a medieval hilltop fortified necropolis that sits on top of vestiges of the Phoenician and Roman presence in the area. In the 14th century, a Merinid sultan built a necropolis on top of the Roman site.

Today, the landmark is dotted with a mausoleum, an elegant minaret and madrassa, the tombs of several saints and a pool where prospective mothers feed eels in the hope of fertility. It also serves as the backdrop for some of the city’s events, including Mawazine and the jazz festival. Its most notable residents, however, are the army of storks sitting on top of their enormous flat nests. For the best chance at stork-spotting, head to Ciconia cafe at the top of the site, where you’re perched eye-to-eye with the impressive creatures – and can enjoy a coffee and croissant.

Back at the hotel, we stop at Palapa, the pool bar restaurant, serving Pan-American favourites. There is never a wrong time to have guacamole and nachos. We need the energy, as we’re about to pop over to the hotel’s neighbours at the Royal Golf Dar Es Salam. The properties bleed into one another, and we get picked up in golf carts and are driven straight onto the course.

Our hosts have been nice enough to arrange golf lessons. I’m a total novice, I’ve never even played mini-golf. I’ve always suspected that I’d hate the game, but standing on the green, being coached on my swing by a charming instructor who sounds like he’s lived an intriguing life that could fill a couple of these pages, it feels like I’ve been missing out. Maybe this is a game for me after all. Naturally, for the first half hour, I am hopeless. But as I ease up and start to enjoy it, I get a few decent whacks in. I text my wife: “I’m a golf guy now.” She doesn’t respond.

Morocco’s former King Hassan II, a noted golf enthusiast, commissioned American course architect Robert Trent Jones to design Royal Golf Dar Es Salam in the late 1960s on a massive 404-hectare site. Today, it is one of the most formidable courses in Africa, hosts a series of tournaments including the Hassan II Golf Trophy, and is a favourite of royalty and celebrities. And if you’re staying at the Ritz-Carlton, it’s only a golf cart drive away from your room.

Later in the evening, we take the drive into town to Muskaan for dinner. The cars outside are an indication of what, or rather who, lies within this spot housed in a villa in the upmarket Hay Riad district.

Diplomatic licence plates and understated German sports cars. It looks like a haunt for the embassy workers and governing class – or their hip children. The food is suitably fusion – Nikkei, Mediterranean and Moroccan – with sushi and tagine sitting surprisingly comfortably next to each other, both on the menu and eventually on the spread in front of us.

By the time I lie down in my bed at the hotel, I am convinced my destiny lies in becoming a golf pro. I take in the Baroque opulence of the place, with Moroccan touches such as hand-carved gebs plasterwork you can’t help but run your fingers along, large mirrors and gilded frescoes. It’s the perfect place to lay your head down, especially the suite I’ve found myself in at garden level, steps away from the pool area.

I wake up to cattle egrets on the grass outside, who keep me company while I drink my morning coffee. But I can’t hang out with them for long, we’re off to Souq es Sabbate on Consuls Avenue. It is Friday prayer time, so the souq is quiet, save for some tourists and a group of surfers walking past, surfboards under their arms. As prayers end, the shops start to fill back up with traders.

Like any souq, it can be confusing to navigate if you’re on the search for something to take back home, as I am. A man approaches me and says he has a nice shop down an alley. Despite my initial hesitation – based on everything I’ve been told about following people into alleyways – I head off with him. I am not disappointed, he and his brother run a delightful shop that has all the ceramics and metalwork I was hoping to find. The place is called Dar D’Art and is run by the El Jaouhari brothers. Pro tip – if you can muster up a couple of words in Arabic, you’ll get a discount and some lovely vases to take back home.

We then head to Mohammed VI Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art. Opened in 2014, it is looking to put the city on the African contemporary art circuit. When we visited, the permanent collection wasn’t open, but the curator assured us it would be available to visit by November. From there, we take a river cruise on the Bou Regreg. From this vantage point, the cosy size of the city is clearest. This is not a bustling waterway and its shores are equally languid.

Some residents take little rowboats to cross from one bank to the other, where lies the city of Salé. As we edge ever so slightly towards the area where the river meets the Atlantic, the power of the ocean rocks us out of our daze, a reminder of the vastness that lies beyond the harbour. We head safely back to shore, we won’t be seeing those surfers again today.

By the evening we are back at the resort – which really is a delightful base from which to explore the city. It is so lush that you could spend a week here without ever going into town – the spa alone could keep you busy for a couple of days – but I would say using it as your operating base to make the incursions we’ve been making is the way to go.

It’s opening night at the hotel – and a procession of beautiful people files through the palatial lobby. After the speeches, thank yous and buffet, some of the more serious guests start to leave and proceedings turn into a party. Since I’ve been at the property, I’ve been greeted with smiles and enthusiasm at every step. Everyone has been proud to share their city with us and make sure we feel welcome. I recognise a lot of the staff dancing and getting on stage to take pictures with their colleagues. Seeing them celebrate their hard work together makes me realise what the hotel business is really about.

Sure, this hotel fits perfectly in its royal neighbourhood, its finishings are grand, its spa looks like a Moorish hammam. But it is the people who make a hotel special. It’s easy to forget that in the invisible dance that keeps a place like this going. Seeing their excitement that night, I think it’s safe to say they know their quiet corner of the world is about to get a lot of new visitors.