Is the length of time you spend talking about somewhere — and telling everyone you know to go there — directly proportionate to just how magical it was? Let’s assess the situation.
It’s now been two months since I spent 48 hours at Izza Marrakech, lured by the invitation of ‘an artful escape in the heart of the Medina with Mr & Mrs Smith’. And in those two months, I’ve shared the link to its website at least a couple of times a week on average; gone deep into the warren hole of its architecture, artwork and Moroccan history; and have already planned a return trip later this year.
This never happens. Well, it might happen initially, but more often than not something else captures my imagination and Skyscanner tabs are inevitably closed. My torch for Izza, on the other hand, still burns bright. That’s the thing when somewhere captures your imagination, intoxicates your senses, and gives your brain (and thumbs) a break from deadlines and devices.
It had been 20 years almost to the day since I was last in Marrakech, and I had no idea what to expect two decades on. But the attraction was instant. From the moment I stepped out of the taxi and walked the short distance through the sunlit corners of the Medina, I felt a sort of giddy curiosity. Maybe it was the warm welcome with a side of honeyed briouats and ruby-red pomegranate juice waiting for me that did it, but as I stood in the dappled light of Izza’s reception, I felt a deep sense of relaxation and belonging. Izza, I was told, has been nicknamed the ‘House of Friends’; a place where ‘kindred spirits – entrepreneurs, writers, artists, musicians, and creative minds – are drawn together to connect in the embrace of the famous Moroccan hospitality’.
As if on cue, I’m told that someone I know is already there. I head through Izza’s internal, open-air courtyards draped in leafy foliage and up endless winding staircases to the roof terrace to find Miluska Van ‘t Lam waiting with a smile. Miluska is the Editor-in-Chief of Harper’s Bazaar Netherlands and one of the most fabulous people I know. We make a serendipitous habit of bumping into each other in inspiring places, so it was unsurprising to find her here.
A guided tour of the hotel revealed more secret spots where one can make acquaintances: the well-stocked library, mosaic-lined snug, two swimming pools, hammam spa, the gift-shop offering local ceramics and kaftans crafted by Moroccan artisans — it all had my eyes popping. As did the collection of artwork that adorned every wall (Izza has one of the most comprehensive collections of physical digital pieces in the world) and its sensational restoration of vintage Moroccan architecture.
But there’s no better scene than in Bill’s Bar, named after Bill Willis, the famous bohemian aesthete who enticed Talitha and John Paul Getty Junior to Marrakech on their honeymoon, thus starting one of the most referenced periods of style history. Willis was legendary for decorating the Moroccan properties of the rich and famous using the Tadelakt, Geps and Zellige sculpting and mosaic techniques that are showcased throughout Izza. Incidentally, the hotel owners are also the proprietors of Willis’s former home, Dar Noujoum, which contained an archive of artefacts from his hedonistic past. These have been preserved and framed on the walls of the bar, adding to Izza’s rich sense of history.
I made a mental note to return later and read Bill’s old letters and scribbled musings, then headed to my room — another sanctuary of contemporary design, from the mid-century Murano-glass lamps to the Arne-Jacobsen-style armchairs and the fully mosaiced bathroom.
Having unpacked, a thirst was growing, and so I headed back to the rooftop to take in the sunset with a virgin cocktail at Izza’s bar and restaurant, Noujoum. Despite being inside the Medina walls, Izza has an alcohol licence, but with mocktails this inventive it would be a miss not to indulge. A concoction of mint, cucumber, lime and lemon was quickly knocked back with ras-el hanout-seasoned crisps (a house speciality) before the menu was presented.
Amid all the loveliness that Izza has to offer, Noujoum might be the jewel in its crown. Masterminded by head chef Ahmad Elhardoum, this is fusion at its finest, featuring Moroccan ingredients and dishes with a distinctive Mediterranean influence. See the hibiscus and mint tea infused with watermelon, dill pickled cucumber and pistachio; the starters of Moroccan calamari with lemon and cucumber salsa; the seared fillet of beef with rocket, parmesan and chimichurri. To finish, the ‘chef’s dessert’: a medley of yuzu caviar, mint, Madagascan vanilla cream, mint-lime caramel and a madeleine biscuit. This was on-another-level dining and, as you can imagine, I left no crumbs.
If the first day at Izza was a sensory immersion, then waking up to the sunrise and enjoying 360-degree views with a mint tea in hand had me in full Marrakech mode. After a breakfast of homemade granola followed by chef Elhardoum’s take on loubia (a traditional bean stew) with sundried tomatoes and egg, I made my way downtown to meet ceramic artist Fanny Lopez in her studio, who taught me how to decorate her elegant vases using her signature stencilling. You can buy her work in Izza’s boutique if you want a piece of your own.
Wanting to make the most of my time outside Izza (while eager to get back to the hotel ASAP), I made my return journey via the souk with its rich treasures by local leather artisans, weavers, silversmiths, ceramicists and fashion-design collectives. I somehow managed to control the urge to splurge and picked up a humble haul of cushions, baby carpets and hammered silver pots for serving nuts and olives in back home.
If you choose to dine outside of Izza while in Marrakech, then lunch at Nomad, a bustling hub set over four floors in the centre of the souk, is a must. Roasted cauliflower marinated in dukkah and lemon, Moroccan quinoa with argan oil, and lentil salads with goat’s cheese from Essaouira were devoured, washed down with more excellent non-alcoholic sips (the apple, verbena, liquorice and mint iced tea is chef’s-kiss good).
On my return to Izza, there were two very important things to do: one, cool down in the emerald-tiled pool beside my room (it was the perfect crisp temperature); and two, get ready for my massage in the Izza spa. As someone with recurring back issues, I am very fussy with who I let near my spine, but after a thoughtful consultation, it was handled with gentle care.
Dusk fell, and the rooftop called once again. And, once again, the ‘House of Friends’ lived up to its reputation, as my old pal Stephen Doig, The Telegraph’s Men’s Style Editor, appeared between the palms at sunset. ‘Of all the bars in all the world’ came to mind – and yet, that’s just the Izza way. Another night of dining in the breeze ensued before the ceremonious tea led to bedtime.
As I drifted off, I tried to remember the last time a place had made me feel so relaxed while simultaneously so tantalised with the desire for more. As I would tell people on my return, Izza is at once a familiar home-away-from-home and like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. In fact, I’m still telling people about it, so in answer to my opening question: the magic hasn’t worn off yet.
Read more about Izza Marrakech and shape your weekend agenda with our 48-hour guide to the Red City