Marrakech - ten years on

Our last time in Marrakech was ten and a half years prior.

Layla and I took the FRS ferry from mainland Europe (Farifa) to North Africa, mooring in Tangiers before travelling down the north east of Morrocco, through the beautiful blue city of Chefchaouen to the country's cultural capital, Fez.

We then hitchhiked to Marrakech via Merzouga for a night in the Sahara and a Lawrence of Arabia-esque sunset camel ride into the famous Erg Chebbi dunes.

In Marrakech we stayed in a beautiful, traditional riad called L'Orangerie, before trekking into the Atlas Mountains where we summited the 4,167 metres of Jebel Toubkel.

Sounds peculiar even writing that. In fact, I hate the 30 year old me, he's a right tosser!

I'm saying this, here in Marrakech with mum, dad, brother, wife and two kids (8 and 6) celebrating my dad's 70th. A very different adventure, set with very different challenges.

It would have been very easy to constantly try and compare our previous visit to this. There was the danger of time exaggerating the experience we'd enjoyed in 2009 through rose-tinted Ray Bans. However, our start typified domestic, family life setting off from Birmingham after resolving a plumbing issue and refereeing a sibling boxing bout on the back seat en route to Manchester airport.

All this seemed inconsequential as we mazed through the Marrekech Medina, escorted by our host through the rabbit warren of alleyways to the door of our riad. A modest set of doors with the name Dar Damana above it opened up to an incredibly ornate palatial retreat.

After picking our jaws up off the beautifully detailed porcelain tiled floors, we ventured out, escorted initially by our amazing housekeeper Saida. First a pep-talk. Dos and don'ts (mainly don'ts) explained in French and translated through the art of hand gestures. She then helped identify six key landmarks which would help us navigate back from the iconic Jamaa El-Fnaa square to our riad.

Then we were thrust into the Medina lanes. Teems of people made up of Moroccan locals, daytrippers, street traders, tourists, bikes, scooters, motorbikes, tuk-tuks, trailers, were all bustling in, around, weaving and bobbing within the width of a street pavement. And it sort of seemed to work...if you stuck to Saida's rules of course.

Once we arrived at Jamaa El-Fnaa, we were delicately released into the wild by our kind housekeeper, into the main square where we waved, turned and got hit with chaos - and chaos it was - utter carnage in fact. But in a good way.

The kids faces were a picture as they were faced with snake charmers, monkeys on leads and all sorts of artefacts thrust upon them for 'very good price'. Add to this the smells of spices wafting and the sounds of the pungi echoing around the square, they were mesmerised.

A circuit of the square before a coffee overlooking said square must surely be THE first morning thing to do in Marrakech. We did this before successfully ticking off each Saida inspired landmark on our orientation challenge back to the riad.

Yves Saint Lauren was never my brand of choice. More of a Fred Perry man when it came to polo shirts. However, the fella sure knows how to pick a garden. I can say this now I've visited Jardins Majorelle - gardens the former fashion designer used to own.

It was definitely full of the Marrakech hip-brigade. The gardens had 'great Insta-fodder' written all over them. In fact I caught Tom Bowell say: 'Beautiful spot though and incredible use of the Majorelle blue which flowed through the whole experience.'

Once the gardens were ticked off the Lonely Planet Top Tips list, we headed back for food on the infamous rooftop of Cafe Arabe. The Casablanca beer didn't hit the sides and the tangines were to die for. The bill was also to die for, but we justified it as our 'premium brand' day.

Day two saw us part ways with my folks and brother. They hit the Badia Palace and we ventured out of the city walls to waterpark Oasiria. Only, there was one problem realised upon arrival - it was closed for the winter.

Fortunately there was a large heated pool we could pay to use, and this kept the kids content. There were six visitors to the park that day...and we were four of them. I'd never visited a closed slide park before and the kids had a ball with free reign using the water slides as normal slides. I'm pretty sure I had dreams of this sort of scenario as a kid.

Next day was a full day tour into the Atlas Mountains. Accompanied by our amazing driver Khalid from Trendy Travel, we ventured up into Berber villages where we got to witness the making of Argan Oil used for cooking and cosmetics.

We continued on, welcomed into a Berber home. Whilst slightly uncomfortable and a tad contrived, the lunch they cooked us was sensational with views from 2,000 feet down to the lake. Paragliders were in their masses hovering over our heads, offering lunchtime entertainment as we tucked into charcoaled chicken skewers, cous cous, lamb tangines.

Next up we wound down the hillside to the lake, before heading for a sunset camel ride. My camel aptly named Matthew had had 15 wives, our guide informed me. 'How many wives have you had Matthew?' our camel handler asked me. How we laughed!

Sunset was a photographer's dream as we enjoyed dunes with the backdrop of the snowcapped Atlas Mountains. We then drove back to Marrakech having had an amazing day outside the city walls.

The final day was spent shop-shop-shopping. We'd been eyeing up our purchases over the course of our trip - each Medina venture further refined our shopping list. The day was therefore spent converting our purchases through the art of haggling. The routine was haggle, have a breather and then haggle some more. Rugs, lamps, throws, belts, shoes, drums, we got the lot.

Full of adrenaline and excitement about our home mimicking a poor man's riad, the highlight of the day was in-fact landing on a value lunch option where we clambered up to an attic-like rooftop to be served Moroccan scram that filled the ever-expanding belly for £15 for all the family. Take THAT Harvester!

The ladies enjoyed some spa action on the morning before our flight at Hammam De La Rose. Scolded and scrubbed down in the name of pampering. They loved it!

The last task of the trip, blagging our ridiculously inflated baggage as hand luggage onto our EasyJet back home. We did it! Where we're going to put it all is a job we'll worry about back in Birmingham.

How did our trip compare to 2009? Totally incomparable on so many levels. But what a place to take kids. In fact, tear up every preconceived idea you have about Marrakech and give the sucker a go.