Our First Trip to Morocco: Why Rabat Was the Perfect (and Surprisingly Affordable) Introduction

Three nights in Morocco’s capital for just £199 each — including flights, accommodation, and food.

Morocco had been on our list for years, but like many people, we didn’t quite know where to begin. Marrakech looked vibrant but intense. Fez sounded fascinating but potentially overwhelming for a first visit.

Then we discovered cheap flights to Rabat.

Morocco’s coastal capital felt like the perfect introduction—authentic yet calm, culturally rich without the sensory overload often associated with Morocco’s larger tourist hubs.

In May 2025, we flew from Manchester to Rabat with Ryanair for a three-night stay. We based ourselves in the heart of the medina at Dar el Karam, a traditional guesthouse tucked away on one of the narrow, little streets that make Moroccan medinas so atmospheric.

What surprised us most wasn’t just how much we loved Rabat—but how affordable the entire experience was.

From the petrol to drive to Manchester Airport, to flights, accommodation, and every meal we ate, the total cost came to just £199.05 per person.

Not per night.

Not for flights alone.

For the entire trip.

It proved something we’ve come to believe strongly: with a bit of planning and flexibility, extraordinary travel experiences don’t have to come with extraordinary price tags.

Rabat turned out to be the perfect soft introduction to Morocco—welcoming, walkable, and quietly captivating. Over three days, we explored historic kasbahs, wandered through peaceful medina streets, drank countless glasses of mint tea, and experienced a culture that felt both completely different and unexpectedly accessible.

This is exactly how our first Morocco trip unfolded—our itinerary, honest impressions, and full cost breakdown.

Trip Summary: Rabat, Morocco

Dates: May 2025

Duration: 3 nights / 4 days

Flights: Ryanair, Manchester to Rabat

Accommodation: Dar el Karam, traditional guesthouse in the medina

Total cost: £199.05 per person (including flights, accommodation, food, and petrol to the airport)

Breakdown highlights:

• Return flights: exceptionally low-cost with Ryanair

• Accommodation: traditional Moroccan guesthouse experience

• Food: mix of local cafés, food stalls, and restaurants

• Transport: mostly on foot, with minimal additional costs

Overall verdict: An incredibly affordable and easy introduction to Morocco. Rabat felt safe, relaxed, and far less overwhelming than we’d expected for a first visit.

Where We Stayed: Dar el Karam, Rabat Medina

For our first trip to Morocco, we wanted to experience something authentic rather than staying in a standard hotel. Dar el Karam turned out to be the perfect choice.

Located within Rabat’s medina, the guesthouse was tucked away down one of the narrow pedestrian streets, surrounded by traditional homes, small local shops, and everyday Moroccan life. Finding it for the first time felt like stepping into another world—quiet, atmospheric, and completely different from anything we’d experienced before.

The building itself was beautiful. Like many traditional Moroccan guesthouses, it was built around an internal patio, with intricate tilework, carved wooden details, and a calm, peaceful feel that made it an ideal retreat after a day of exploring.

Our room was simple but comfortable, with everything we needed. What made the stay memorable wasn’t luxury—it was the sense of being immersed in another culture. Waking up in the medina, hearing distant voices and footsteps filtering through the narrow streets, and stepping outside directly into daily Moroccan life was an experience in itself.

The location was excellent. We could walk everywhere—to the kasbah, the coastline, the newer parts of the city, and countless cafés and bakeries along the way.

Staying in the medina felt safe and welcoming, and it gave us a far more immersive experience than staying in a modern hotel would have.

We would absolutely stay at Dar el Karam again, and we’d recommend it to anyone visiting Rabat for the first time, especially those wanting an authentic and affordable base in the heart of the city.

First Impressions of Rabat: A Gentle Introduction to Morocco

Before visiting Morocco, we didn’t quite know what to expect. We’d heard so many different things—some people described it as welcoming and easy, while others talked about feeling overwhelmed or pressured, especially in busy market areas.

Rabat, however, felt calm from the very beginning.

Even on the bus from the airport, we noticed how clean and well cared-for everything was. Dozens of workers were out along the roadside, carefully clipping the neatly manicured trees and sweeping the pavements and roads with traditional brushes made from what looked like bundles of twigs. It was clear that a lot of pride was taken in maintaining the city, and it immediately challenged some of the assumptions we’d unconsciously made before arriving.

As Morocco’s capital city and home to the King, Rabat has a slightly more conservative and orderly atmosphere than some of the country’s more tourist-heavy destinations. Dressing modestly—not out of obligation, but out of respect—felt appropriate and helped us blend in more comfortably. It wasn’t restrictive, just something to be mindful of, and it seemed to smooth interactions naturally.

One of the biggest surprises was how relaxed the medina felt. Stallholders would smile, say a friendly “bonjour,” and then simply carry on with their day. There was no pressure, no being followed, and no attempts to drag us into shops. We were free to browse at our own pace, which made the experience far more enjoyable and comfortable than we’d anticipated.

Language-wise, many people did speak some English, especially in cafés and accommodation. However, having a basic knowledge of French was extremely helpful, as French is widely spoken throughout Morocco. Even simple interactions felt easier with a few words of French. We also found that using a few basic Arabic phrases—particularly saying thank you (“shukran”)—was genuinely appreciated and often met with warm smiles.

Food on a budget was another initial concern before travelling, but throughout our stay we ate from a mix of extremely affordable street food stalls, small cafés, and local bakeries without any issues at all. Everything felt freshly prepared, and eating this way became one of the highlights of the trip.

Overall, Rabat felt safe, welcoming, clean, and easy to navigate. It offered all the cultural richness we’d hoped for, but in a way that felt calm and accessible—making it the perfect introduction to Morocco.

Day 1: Arrival, Mint Tea Welcome, and Our First Taste of Rabat

We arrived at Dar el Karam just after lunchtime and were warmly welcomed by our host, Hassan, who offered us traditional Moroccan mint tea as soon as we stepped inside. The guesthouse was also his family home, with his family living on the upper floors, which made the experience feel far more personal than staying in a hotel.

We sat in the peaceful courtyard, drinking sweet mint tea and taking in our surroundings. It was our first real moment to pause and realise—we were finally in Morocco.

After settling into our room, we headed out towards the Kasbah of the Udayas.

Almost immediately, we were approached by a man offering to “guide” us through the kasbah. He told us it was about to close and that we were going the wrong way. Thankfully, we’d done our research beforehand and recognised this as a common tactic. We politely thanked him and continued walking. He followed briefly, but when we didn’t engage, he soon gave up and left us alone.

Inside the kasbah, we wandered through narrow alleyways lined with white and blue buildings and found viewpoints overlooking the Bouregreg River and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. It was peaceful and atmospheric—exactly the gentle introduction we’d hoped for.

We stopped at Café des Oudayas for mint tea and traditional pastries. It’s a bit of a tourist trap, but sitting in its tiled courtyard felt like a lovely way to ease into our first afternoon.

Later, feeling tired from travelling, we wandered back towards the medina in search of something simple to eat.

We spotted a small street food stall, 'Habricha Achabab' with a queue of locals, so we joined them. We ordered habricha—a freshly made hot sandwich filled with spiced lamb mince, egg, and cheese—for just 65p each. It was filling, delicious, and one of the most satisfying meals of the trip.

For dessert, we stopped at a Syrian baklava stall and chose a selection of rich, syrup-soaked pastries. Before heading back, we bought bottled water from a small local shop. The shopkeeper spoke no English, and we spoke no Arabic, but he greeted us warmly and made us feel welcome.

That night, we fell asleep quickly—only to be gently awakened at around 4am by the call to prayer.

Multiple voices echoed across the neighbourhood from different mosques, overlapping and drifting through the quiet streets. It was haunting and beautiful.

The neighbourhood dogs woke too, joining in with their own chorus of howling and barking, which made us smile. It was surreal, memorable, and part of the experience of being somewhere completely different.

Eventually, everything quietened, and we drifted back to sleep.

Day 2: Hassan Tower, Storks at Chellah, and Sunset Along the Corniche

After breakfast in the courtyard with other guests (mostly French and Moroccan), we set out on foot towards Hassan Tower, one of Rabat’s most recognisable landmarks.

Originally intended to be the tallest minaret in the world, the tower was never completed, yet what stands today is still incredibly impressive. The vast open square, filled with rows of stone columns, gave a sense of the scale and ambition behind the original vision.

Just opposite is the Mausoleum of Mohammed V, the resting place of the Moroccan king and his sons. The building itself was stunning—white marble, intricate tilework, and ornate details that reflected Morocco’s craftsmanship. What surprised us most was that entry to both sites was completely free, making it one of the most accessible cultural experiences of the trip.

From there, we decided to continue on foot towards Chellah, passing through wide, clean streets and an upmarket neighbourhood lined with government buildings and diplomatic residences. The walk itself was enjoyable, offering a different perspective on Rabat—quieter, more spacious, and noticeably affluent.

We’d heard that Chellah was home to storks, but nothing quite prepared us for seeing them in person.

Entry was around £10 each, including an audio guide, which added valuable context to the site’s layered history as a former Roman and Islamic settlement. Before exploring, we made our way to the cafe bar near the entrance with a terrace overlooking the valley below—and immediately noticed something extraordinary.

The surrounding trees were filled with storks. Dozens of them. Adults tending to their nests, with babies nestled among the branches.

Even though the drinks cost ten times the price of last night's habricha dinner, we just had to grab a table and order non-alcoholic cocktails in the sunshine, watching the incredible storks. Occasionally, one would throw its head back and make a loud clacking sound with its beak—a hollow, rhythmic noise that echoed across the valley. It felt ancient and surreal, as if we’d stepped into a completely different world, and completely worth blowing our budget for!

We spent a couple of hours exploring Chellah itself. The gardens were lush and beautifully maintained, and the ruins blended naturally into the landscape. It felt peaceful, authentic, and deeply atmospheric—one of the highlights of the trip.

Eventually, tired from the heat and walking, we caught a bus back towards the city centre, getting off near Rabat’s main train station. We stepped inside briefly, curious to see the departure board. Seeing trains bound for Casablanca and Marrakesh felt strangely exotic, and we couldn’t help smiling at the thought of future journeys. Had we stayed longer, we would have loved to take an overnight trip—if only for the novelty of mentally playing Marrakesh Express the whole way there.

Back at Dar el Karam, we took a short siesta to escape the afternoon heat and recharge before heading out again.

Later, we wandered through the medina, where stalls sold everything from beautifully handcrafted leather goods and wooden items to everyday household essentials and knock-off trainers. It felt lively but relaxed, full of local people going about their daily routines.

We stopped at a small café and sat outside, our table squeezed beside a leather stall. As the afternoon sun intensified, the stall owner emerged and expertly rigged up a large sheet across the narrow street, using a pole to create shade not only for his own goods but for neighbouring stalls too. The stallholders thanked him, and it was one of those small, human moments that said so much about the rhythm of life there.

From the medina, we made our way back towards the Kasbah to visit the Andalusian Gardens. Entry was free, and the gardens were beautifully maintained, filled with vibrant flowers and shaded pathways. One thing that stood out immediately was the number of cats—resting in the sun, wandering through the paths, or watching quietly from the shade.

At one point, we noticed a small crowd gathered around something. A tourist was carefully moving a tiny kitten from the middle of the path, worried it might be stepped on. It was a gentle, touching moment that reflected the calm pace of life there.

We returned to Café des Oudayas for mint tea, sitting once again in the peaceful courtyard overlooking the Bouregreg River.

As evening approached, we walked along the corniche in the golden light. Fishing boats bobbed gently in the water, and families strolled together, enjoying the cooler air. What made us laugh most were the children’s ride-on vehicles available for hire—pink princess carriages, miniature motorbikes, and even sleighs with reindeer attached. Fathers and grandfathers sat patiently as passengers in glittering pink carriages, looking a mix of proud, awkward, and slightly relieved when the rides finally ended!

We bought freshly squeezed orange juice and sat watching the scene unfold—families walking, teenagers jumping fully clothed into the river, and the city slowly transitioning into evening.

Eventually, we returned to the medina and found a small pizza restaurant filled with locals. It felt like a reassuring sign. The food was excellent, and the young staff were warm and enthusiastic, eager to practise their English and chat with us.

After a long, full day of exploring, we returned to Dar el Karam, showered, and fell asleep quickly—completely immersed now in the rhythm of Rabat.

Day 3: Botanical Gardens, Atlantic Views, and a Lesson in Moroccan Hospitality

After another peaceful courtyard breakfast, we set out on foot towards Rabat’s Botanical Gardens. It was a fairly long walk, but the journey itself was enjoyable, taking us through quiet streets and neighbourhoods that tourists rarely see. When we arrived, we discovered the gardens were divided into two distinct sections on either side of a main road.

One side had a more traditional Andalusian feel—formal, calm, and beautifully arranged—while the other felt more like a large municipal park, with themed planting areas, fountains, and a wide central pedestrian boulevard lined with trees.

Entry was completely free, and there were even public toilets available—a small but useful detail worth noting, especially as many public facilities in Morocco don’t provide toilet paper, so it’s always wise to carry some with you.

In the quieter Andalusian garden, we were almost completely alone, apart from a few gardeners tending the grounds. As we wandered along one of the paths, we were amazed to see a tortoise slowly making its way across the grass. Native to Morocco, it was a reminder that even in the heart of a capital city, nature quietly coexists alongside urban life.

In the larger park, we saw a wide variety of flowering plants, trees, and cacti, along with many cats, which seemed to be everywhere in Rabat. At one point, we watched as a curious kitten leaned too far over a fountain while trying to drink beside its mother, nearly falling in before scrambling safely back. Disaster averted! These small, unexpected moments became some of our

most memorable.

From the gardens, we walked back towards the city centre, stopping outside the Royal Palace. The palace itself is hidden behind high walls and heavily guarded, but the scale and presence of the site were impressive.

We were filming nearby when a uniformed officer approached us. For a moment, we worried we might be in trouble, but he simply asked if we would like to visit the palace gardens. When we said yes, he began to guide us towards the entrance, but then asked to see our passports. Unfortunately, we hadn’t brought them with us, and access was restricted without identification. He apologised politely, explaining it was a security requirement, and we continued on our way, slightly disappointed and vowing to carry ID in the future.

By now, we were ready for lunch, and as had become our habit, we followed the smell of freshly cooked food through the medina until we found its source—a street stall selling spicy sausage sandwiches. We ordered one each for around 80p and wandered through the shaded alleyways while eating, watching the quiet rhythm of daily life unfold around us.

We stopped again at the small café beside the leather stall we’d discovered the day before, enjoying coffee and another freshly squeezed orange juice before continuing towards the Atlantic coastline.

The oceanfront promenade stretched along the cliffs, offering sweeping views of beaches and rocky outcrops below. The waves were powerful, yet surfers and swimmers embraced the challenge, while others paddled cautiously at the water’s edge.

One thing that did stand out was the presence of litter in some areas along the beach, which felt at odds with the overall cleanliness we’d experienced elsewhere in Rabat. It was a reminder that even the most beautiful places have their contrasts.

We continued walking until we reached an old fortress and a towering lighthouse, standing watch over the coastline. From there, we headed back towards the main beach where a long jetty extended into the ocean, busy with teenagers, couples, and families enjoying the late afternoon sun. Vendors walked slowly along the jetty carrying trays of doughnuts and baked goods balanced on their shoulders, offering snacks to anyone who passed.

By this point, we’d walked miles and felt we’d earned a proper Moroccan meal. We found a restaurant on the edge of the medina and ordered tagines. Compared to the street food, it felt expensive—but the total bill for two meals, drinks, and a tip was still only around £12. The restaurant was filled mostly with locals, which always felt like the best endorsement.

As evening approached, we returned once more to the corniche, watching the fishing boats and families gathering as the light softened.

Then, as the sun began to dip behind the Kasbah, we felt an irresistible urge to climb higher and watch it disappear into the Atlantic. We hurried uphill just in time.

The sky turned a deep, glowing orange, the ocean reflecting the light in shifting patterns. It was one of those simple, perfect travel moments—unplanned, fleeting, and unforgettable.

We walked slowly back to the medina, stopping to buy one final box of baklava from the Syrian stall before returning to Dar el Karam to pack for our early departure the next morning.

We told Hassan not to worry about breakfast, as we’d be leaving early. But he gently insisted.

“I am a Muslim,” he explained. “I wake early to pray anyway. It is my job to provide hospitality to you. I will make you breakfast.”

It was a simple statement, but it captured something profound. His hospitality wasn’t transactional—it was rooted in something deeper. Care, generosity, and pride in welcoming guests.

It was the perfect closing note to our first experience of Morocco.

Departure Morning: One Last Lesson in Trust

We needed to be at the airport for 9am, which meant leaving the guesthouse at around 7.30am.

True to his word, Hassan was already up. He had prepared breakfast for us despite our protests the night before. It was such a simple act, but it stayed with us. His hospitality had never felt forced or transactional—just genuine care.

We said our goodbyes and stepped back out into the medina, which felt completely different at that hour. Quiet. Still. Almost empty.

We walked up to the airport bus stop, where a young Moroccan man with a backpack was already waiting. We exchanged smiles—the silent acknowledgement of fellow travellers heading somewhere else. A few minutes later, another Moroccan man in a business suit joined us.

Then a taxi pulled up.

The driver got out, smiled, and said “bonjour.” We replied politely but then instinctively looked away, assuming he was about to start trying to sell us a taxi ride.

He kept smiling and said, in French, something along the lines of, “Don’t worry, I’m only saying hello. I’m not trying to sell you anything.”

It caught us off guard, and we felt slightly ashamed of our assumption. It was as if he was gently pushing back against a stereotype he knew existed.

He stood nearby, stretching his legs and smoking, when an older man wandered over and greeted him like an old friend. The older man walked towards his parked car—a battered Dacia Sandero—but before he opened the door, the taxi driver called out to him.

They exchanged a few words in French and Arabic, and then the older man walked back towards us.

The taxi driver spoke to the two other travellers waiting beside us, and then turned to us. We didn’t quite catch what he said, but the young backpacker turned and explained in excellent English: “This man is going to the airport. He will take us all there for 30 dirhams each.”

We looked at each other. There was a moment of hesitation. Not fear exactly—but uncertainty. This wasn’t the plan. We’d expected to take the bus.

But then we had one of those quiet, unspoken conversations you can have without words.

Oh, go on then.

We climbed into the back of the Dacia alongside our fellow travellers.

The drive itself was uneventful, although the faint smell of petrol inside the car was slightly concerning. Still, the older driver seemed calm and steady, and before long we arrived safely at the airport.

We paid our fare—about £5 for both of us—which was roughly the same as the bus would have cost anyway. But the real value wasn’t the money. It was the experience. A small act of trust. A shared moment with strangers.

We sat outside the terminal for a few minutes, soaking up the last of the morning sun before heading inside.

At security, we were told we needed to have our boarding passes stamped first, so we made a quick detour to the Ryanair desk. Thankfully, there was no queue, and soon enough we were through passport control and waiting to board.

As our flight was called, we stepped out onto the tarmac and looked up at the clear blue Moroccan sky one last time.

And there, circling overhead, was a white stork.

The same birds we’d watched nesting at Chellah just days before.

It felt like Morocco’s quiet way of saying goodbye.

Final Thoughts: Why Rabat Was the Perfect Introduction to Morocco

Morocco had been on our radar for years. We’d travelled independently elsewhere in other parts of Africa, but somehow had never quite got round to it. Like many people, we’d mainly considered Marrakesh or some of the larger coastal resorts, and Rabat hadn’t really featured in our thinking.

In hindsight, that’s exactly why it worked so well.

Rabat felt like a place people live, not somewhere that exists purely for tourists. It was calm, clean, and easy to navigate, but still full of character and culture. We never felt like we were being funnelled from one attraction to the next. Instead, we were free to explore at our own pace and let the city reveal itself gradually.

What stayed with us most were the small, everyday moments. Morning breakfasts with other travellers. Watching storks circling overhead. Sitting in quiet gardens. Conversations, gestures, and kindness shared without expectation.

It felt authentic without being overwhelming, and culturally rich without being exhausting.

And perhaps most surprising of all was how affordable it was. For £199 each, we experienced somewhere completely different—geographically, culturally, and visually—from home. It was a reminder that meaningful travel doesn’t have to be expensive or complicated.

Rabat may not have the global profile of Marrakesh, but that’s part of its appeal. It offered us exactly what we value most when travelling independently: freedom, authenticity, and the space to simply observe and experience a place as it is.

It was the perfect place to begin our Morocco journey—and it certainly won’t be the last time we return.

Rabat hadn’t just introduced us to Morocco—it had made us want to see more.