It only took a moment for me to become disoriented upon arriving in Marrakech. I hear this is a common, but temporary, syndrome for out-of-town visitors.

The dry white heat, deep rose and russet-toned walls of the city’s ramparts, the snow-capped Atlas Mountains in the distance, the mysterious labyrinth of narrow roads, traces of aromatic spices lingering in the air, the chorus of Arabic and French voices as the morning trading begins, and the swift and jarring turns of the taxi to our hotel can all add up.

It’s only 7:30 a.m. I left the airport groggy and exhausted. I was not entirely sure I would arrive at the destination - 108, rue de Berima, across from the palace. I handed over the copy of the directions to the hotel I printed from the computer. The taxi driver shrugged, quoted his price (120 dirham, about $12) and with a one handed turn of the steering wheel, pulled out of the designated airport taxi transport area. Ten minutes later we were in the thick of it all.

Suddenly, the driver hurled the car sharply through an ancient stone archway as two others cars did the same in the opposite direction. Scooters and mopeds weaved in and out. Men outfitted in long pastel colored caftans maneuvered donkey carts carrying prickly pear fruit, mint, or artifacts, ignoring the honking horns and shouting from cars and mopeds as they ambled by.

The taxi driver stopped abruptly outside a sienna colored wall. I looked around for evidence of luxury, of grandeur. Is this it? I wondered. A small, aged, bronze metal sign stood out from an imposing arched doorway: Dar Les Cigognes in a classic script glistened through a sliver of morning sun. An intricately carved dark wood door with a heavy metal ring knocker reassured me that indeed I had arrived.

Behind the doorway, the mystique and beauty of Morocco’s riad (guesthouse) architecture and warm, welcoming culture awaits the weary traveler - a momentary respite from the hubbub of the medina’s pathways. The heavy outer door opens into a small entrance area, inviting those who wander inside to absorb its cool, calming embrace. I inhale deeply. The air is delicately scented with orange neroli and hints of jasmine. My eyes can not open any wider. Every one of my senses is aroused, seduced. I was alert and intoxicated at the same time. Within moments, a smiling, small coffee-skinned man in a white caftan appeared from a tiny room. “Bienvenue,” he said softly, “I am Mohammed. Welcome. Follow me.” With a gentle wave of his hand, he motioned for us to leave our bags. We trailed behind him through a narrow corridor paved with smooth, unglazed terra cotta tiles.

I gasped, covering my gaping mouth with my hand. The short corridor opened into the most elegant courtyard I have ever seen. An intricately tiled fountain burbled in the center of the courtyard, deep magenta colored roses floated gracefully on the surface. The floor was decorated in equally exquisite geometric mosaics of cut ceramic tile. Lush, handsome palm trees fanned the sun-streaked walls, creating a serene and sensual oasis. I looked up from the center of the courtyard, past the black calligraphy of the wrought iron railings, to the clear blue square of sky. In this refreshing, delightful courtyard, one feels a sense of calm despite the frenetic city life just outside the thick, polished white plaster walls (tadlekt); a delicate balance in artful Moroccan design and lifestyle – simple, unadorned, yet embellished - delirious yet restful.

Mohammad led us to a sumptuous seating nook to the side of the courtyard. Soft, oversized white cushions atop dark wooden frames in a rectangle shape around a square, carved wood table. Jewel-colored silk pillows provided the perfect accent to an exotic setting. I caressed each piece of fabric, and surface. In my dizzy, awe-struck state, I must not have noticed Mohammad leave because he magically appeared with a tray of homemade almond, orange flower water and sesame seed pastries (Kaab Ghzahl or gazelle’s horns) and a silver teapot. He lay the tray down on the table and arranged two small, slender glasses with a silver band and ornate filigree trim. He lifted the teapot just high enough to demonstrate an impressive pour of mint tea into the glasses. The aroma of fresh mint, invigorating. This ritual itself quiets the soul and stimulates silent reflection.

After our lingering tea and pastries, Mohammed escorted us to our suite. Dar Les Cigognes, a riad or guesthouse with suites facing a private, open courtyard, has only 11 individually decorated rooms or suites, each with its own name. Some are labeled Superior, some Deluxe. To me, they all seem uniquely divine. Each reveals the exquisite design work of renowned architect Charles Boccara.

We followed Mohammed up a narrow wood and stone spinal staircase, through a maze of doorways, past a Boutique of local crafts, a Spa area, and to our room on the second landing, The Safari Room. The tall, dark wooden double doors are closed with an iron latch adorned with a silk tassel, red for “privacy please” and green for “maid service.” No plastic magnetic cards and locks and bolts. No TV or Bose sound system. No Mini bar. Just pure, simple, bliss. A platter of luscious tropical fruits, sweet dates and assorted nuts lay on the woven wicker and glass table, along with two large liters of pure spring water. I eyed the king-sized bed with crisp white sheets and gossamer mosquito net canopy overhead. How inviting. One could lay outstretched and admire the painted designs of the vaulted, Tataoui ceiling, a traditional craft of Berber tribes made of woven oleander branches, in natural desert tones. The walls are glazed in a light khaki (per the brochure description) that glows saffron in the sultry light. The room is richly decorated with African tapestries, including a leather and straw carpet, and old hard back African hunting books on wooden shelves tucked into the walls. Traces of orange neroli again delicately scent the air. As I float into the bathroom area, I notice the hammered silver sink vanity and mirror, almost glittering with soft reflected light. I squeeze a bit of lotion onto my hands - there’s that neroli - intoxicating. Plush towels and bath robes await a weary body. Once you step into the shower, you emerge transformed and ready to explore the intrigue of Marrakech.

After settling in, I booked a walking tour with a private guide who works for the riad. A retired history professor who knows well the places tourists seldom go, and the places one shouldn’t miss. The riad has a large leather bound book with many activities, described in detail, for everyone’s pleasure and curiosity. There are also relaxing spa treatments to further indulge your senses. We chose to experience the Hammam treatment - a traditional Moroccan steam bath and “gommage” scrub-massage with special “Savon Noir” (a blend of aromatic herbes and olive oil). The Hammam room can accommodate two persons receiving simultaneous treatments. Once you enter, prepare to be once again transformed. The room itself emits warmth and luxury with its sienna colored marbled walls, sunken tub and bench areas. When you lie on one of the benches on either wall, heat radiates from the marble and envelopes your body. Our spa maiden bathed us with buckets of warm water from a spout coming out from the wall. Then we each received the most exhilarating and cleansing head to toe “gommage” or scrub-massage. The next day I made sure to find the “Savon Noir” in the market - it is ubiquitous and not expensive (about $2 for an eight-ounce container). I took six containers home.

Dar Les Cigognes is the perfect place from which to explore this old town, the markets and restaurants. Mohammad made a reservation for us at Dar Moha (www.darmoha.ma) for our second evening. We sampled a variety of traditional Moroccan and regional dishes and sauces, like chicken with olives preserved lemons, seven vegetable cous cous, and lamb tagine, served in terra cotta stoneware with pointed lids. A number of side dishes arrived for sampling: chick-pea salad, carrot and orange salad, and Harissa (hot spice blend) served with fresh Kesra (flat bread). The sultry, exotic ambiance included a musician dressed in a silk and velvet kaftan played the oud guitar and singing melodic Moroccan folk songs.

The next morning, after a rejuvenating night’s sleep, we had breakfast on the rooftop terrace of the riad. We climbed the circular stair case to the expansive, yet private terrace with its bougainvillea bursting magenta florettes over terra cotta pots, wrought iron lanterns, and lush landscaping. Colossal white storks guarding a straw-covered nest, stood on the medina wall across from the riad. The riad is named after this unique sight of pure nature. Later we observed that the storks actually stand along the tops of the wall encircling the city. We chose a seating area under a wicker pergola, a love seat and sofa with colorful pillows, and enjoyed the russet-toned view from above. From the nearby minaret, a nasally voice in Arabic summoned believers for the “call to prayer.”

A server brought our breakfast on a large wooden tray and placed it on the table before us. He arranged the napkins, poured the mint tea from the silver pot (a ritual I am growing to love already), and unveiled an array of homemade jams and fresh churned butter from the small, turret lidded blue and white ceramic dishes. We savored fresh melon, a sampling of homemade bread and pastries (Briouats–filo pastry triangles) from the basket, and Beghrirs - honeycomb pancakes eaten hot with honey and butter. We lingered over breakfast and eventually began our day of exploration.

On Saturday evenings, Dar Les Cigognes offers a Bar-B-que grill on the rooftop. We decided to indulge on our last night in Marrakech. The entire experience at Dar Les Cigognes, one could say, is indeed indulgent. For a very reasonable charge ($45 per person), guests enjoy a superb rooftop dining experience at sunset, including the storks. We shared our table with an aspiring British actress, Goldie, and a wine mogul from Italy, Guiseppe. The chef prepared an ample buffet assortment of traditional salads, cous cous, skewered lamb, beef, chicken, homemade sausage, and fish. And, of course, harissa sauce and various accompaniments to the skewered meats. The entire meal, with compatible and interesting company and endless delicacies to try, lasted over four hours. We enjoyed every moment.

In all, Dar Les Cigognes staff clearly knows how to immerse you in the full experience of Moroccan culture. The service is attentive, courteous, and prompt. The hospitality, unbeatable. From managing staff to cleaning staff, everyone made you feel welcome, pampered, yet allowed for privacy, and space to enjoy quiet moments and leisure lounging. I highly recommend Dar Les Cigognes - an elegant, boutique guest house in the heart of old Marrakech - for an unforgettable, authentic Moroccan experience, and for those with “a passion for living well.”

The riad closes from July 1 to August 1 for vacation during low season. Confirm dates, availability and rates in case of changes as it is a family-owned business with small staff. They do their best to secure the room of your preference. Due to the vacancy when we were there, we were able to stay in two different rooms, the Safari and the Casablanca room. The rate was $190 per night (including breakfast and afternoon tea). Visit the hotel website for more details. Samir, the Manager is always available to assist and responds promptly. Enjoy.

Dar Les Cigognes
108, rue de Berima, Medina, Marrakech, Morocco
Tel: +212(0) 24 38 27 40
www.lescigognes.com

- Reviewed by Stephanie LaMonaca (slamonaca@comcast.net)

Stephanie LaMonaca travels extensively and has a writing and photo archive of boutique hotels and high-end restaurants around the world. Her passion for dining and travel is evident in her writing and photos.