Pack as light as you can, download some good audio books, sit back and take in the view, writes guest blogger and plant-based traveller Sal Mager, who shunned air in favour of rail for an overland adventure to the African continent for just two weeks, with husband Robin and youngest offspring, Alex.

I admit it, travelling overland to Morocco on a two-week break seems a bit crazy – if you have the option of flying there, why wouldn’t you? Not only does flying cost an insane amount less, it takes a considerably smaller chunk of time away from being in your chosen destination. On the other hand, if you have decided to remove the option of flying from your radar when considering your holiday choices, I would have no hesitation in suggesting that an overland trip to Morocco should without a doubt be up there on your list of top destinations.

I’m not suggesting it’s the easiest of options but if you have a sense of adventure and want to be able to explore distant shores and cultures whilst leaving the lightest of carbon footprints, then this could be for you.

The number one tip for anyone considering traveling by train across Europe or beyond is to seek the advice of a very useful Man in Seat 61. Amongst other gems, it will tell you it takes just two days to travel by train from London to Tangier. As a bonus, you get Barcelona as your halfway stopping-off point, a great place to take a break on the way down. You can select a top-deck seat for an even better vantage point over the passing scenery.

I loved the time these long train days gave me to unwind, catch up on some reading or better still, listen to a podcast whilst sitting back and soaking up the view. It gives you a real sense of travel, seeing the landscape evolve as you wind your way across the continent through France and Spain, all the way down to Algeciras. From there it is just a short crossing by ferry before you find yourself in Africa, and the adventure really begins.

Our initial thoughts were to travel to Spain when our youngest, now 21, surprised us by saying they’d like to take another trip with us. Realising that the temperatures were too high for our liking in July, we decided to keep two weeks clear at the end of October instead. Then somehow Morocco started coming into the conversation.

This seemed like a whole new kettle of fish. It had a certain adventurous allure about it, but was it really possible, or even desirable, to travel all the way to Morocco when we only had a couple of weeks to play with? I started researching train times and prices and building up a possible itinerary.

As our date of departure approached, I took the plunge and booked our travel and accommodation down as far as Barcelona. I had a tentative plan as to how we’d continue from there but also knew I’d have many happy hours of travelling to spend planning the next leg of our trip. It also left the option of staying in Spain if we changed our minds.

But in truth, we had pretty much committed to travelling beyond Europe when we decided to leave our tent behind. Camping is our usual choice of accommodation, but as soon as I started looking at prices in Morocco I realised it would be madness to take a tent. For just £20 a night we could stay in what turned out to be perfectly comfortable and often rather lovely rooms for the three of us together.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love camping out in the wilds, but I have to say being able to afford this type of accommodation was a luxury I revelled in. Some of the rooms might have been a bit rough around the edges, but we were more than happy. Throw in a few of their distinctive rugs, lamps and cushions, and I was in Moroccan heaven.

Like Man in Seat 61 for travel, I soon discovered that Booking.com was the place to go to find a place to stay. I enjoyed choosing our rooms a day or two ahead as we travelled along, looking for places within a half hour walk of the station if possible, though we could always take a taxi if necessary.

We preferred to walk if we could as it gave us a chance to really arrive and take in where we were, even though we were travelling old-school with backpacks so were a little weighed down. If you don’t have the same draw to being a traditional backpacker, a wheely suitcase is a perfectly reasonable option. Just make sure you are capable of carrying it up any steps, especially when in a hurry to catch a train and, of course, pack as light as you can.

Tangier by Tuesday

Speaking of catching trains, one piece of advice I’d give is to treat those high-speed long-distance trains as if you were catching a plane and aim to check-in at least an hour before departure. Unfortunately, not realising this cost us rather a lot of money.

We thought we’d allowed plenty of time to catch the Barcelona–Madrid train. Google maps told us it would take 13 minutes, including the Metro, so we gave ourselves an hour. We hadn’t taken into account the time needed to navigate the Metro though, and we then found that the ride was painstakingly longer than expected due to disruptions.

We didn’t get off until five minutes before our train was due to leave, and even though we ran to try and catch it, the underground walkways stretched on interminably. When we finally arrived, we found out there was still a whole checking-in process to navigate, complete with luggage scanners. We’d blown it.

This meant we’d also miss our connection so had just forfeited £400 worth of tickets between us. I am still hopeful that we can claim on insurance but with the excess to pay it was still a rather costly mistake. Oh well, lesson learnt.

Sorting logistics and making sure we didn’t miss our train was, at best, a fun challenge and, at worst, a drain, depending on how well we’d eaten and how long we had to wander around trying to sort ourselves out. We certainly got better at it as we went along. On the plus side, that did serve to heighten the sweet sense of relief we always felt once we finally boarded our train and settled into our pre-booked seats, ready to be swept along to our next destination. Time to sit back, breathe deeply and soak up the views.

Tangier by Tuesday had been the plan and we did in fact manage set foot onto African soil by Tuesday afternoon. It felt like a significant moment. None of us had been to Africa before. How wonderful to be exploring new territory together. We entered the walled town through the stone gateway and were immediately bombarded by the sights, sounds and sweet aromas distinctive to Morocco, which would accompany us on most of our journey. The streets were lined with an endless stream of people selling their wares, from tiny kiosks or neatly laid out cloths to tourists and locals alike, a sight that became very much a feature of our trip.

Tea and Tagines

Our first taste of Tangier in north-western Morocco, on the coasts of the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, was slightly marred by an accommodation mix-up, as we hadn’t realised that we had to arrange access to the keys in advance, rather than just showing up and going to a (non-existent) reception desk.

We learnt to avoid booking whole apartments after that, however tempting, to avoid this issue. We ended up wandering around too long sorting out buying a local SIM and finding an alternative room which we finally collapsed into after what had been a very long day. I found myself wondering whether all this would be worth it after all.

We were determined to catch up on our schedule, so headed back to the station early the next morning. This time, we’d allowed ourselves plenty of time and could stop for refreshments on the way. We took the plunge and ordered ourselves a pot of tea. It was perhaps in that moment, the moment that aromatic sweet mint tea was served to us, that we felt as if we had properly arrived in Morocco.

That being said, the prize for that defining moment perhaps has to go to our arrival into the old walled city of Marrakesh, having travelled south on the iconic Marrakesh Express. I can still recall the heart-lifting thrill of stepping into a whole new landscape and culture, and it turns out I wasn’t alone in that. Alex turned to me and said this was just how they’d imagined it to be. Marrakesh. Morocco. We’d arrived.

We’d booked a room in one of the many riads in the old part of the town, Riad Maison Aicha, popular with backpackers, and it didn’t disappoint. It was one of our pricier rooms at £38 for a triple ensuite (extravagant I know!), but as the reviews promised it was a very charming traditional riad with a friendly owner, wonderful roof terrace and satisfying breakfast included. We were greeted with a tray of Moroccan mint tea which we were quickly becoming hooked on.

We had booked in for three nights so we could give ourselves time to settle after all the travelling. We spent many happy hours exploring Marrakesh and absorbing all it had to throw at us, wandering through its endless maze of narrow alleyways and immersing ourselves in the famous souks, or markets, overflowing with enticing goods.

We occasionally found ourselves heading into a dead end, especially if we took our eyes off Google maps and tried to go free-style, and we could feel a bit vulnerable at that point. But everyone we met was friendly and courteous and I felt safe, even when wandering round on my own.

Safe from people, that is, but not necessarily scooters; there was an almost constant stream of noisy scooters dodging through the crowds in all but the narrowest of alleys. You certainly needed to be on alert, even though we hoped they were experienced at avoiding running people over. We were relieved to find that this wasn’t so much of an issue beyond Marrakesh, and in Essaouira and Chefchaouen the narrow streets were refreshingly free from crazy scooter riders.

The other ‘fun’ experience was on wider roads where braving the crossings required a good deal of faith and assertiveness – and could be pretty terrifying to be honest! That aside, yes, Morocco felt safe – safe and very friendly.

Being vegan in Morocco turned out to be okay too. There was generally a good range of tagines on offer, and sometimes even a good selection of other dishes, but give us a vegetable tagine and we were more than satisfied. The heady fusion of flavoursome spices, peppered with warm juicy olives, almonds and dates made for that distinctive Moroccan culinary experience. Add in a healthy dose of falafels, hummus, harira and home-baked breads, and we were in vegan heaven. Being able to revel in the luxury of dining out without breaking the bank was certainly one of the delights of the trip for us.

Cats and Camels

Morocco also threw some unexpected entertainment at us: cat counting. When we first arrived in Tangier, we’d noticed that there was an unusually high number of cats occupying the streets and alleyways, looking surprisingly healthy I’m pleased to say, and that was only the start of it. We didn’t mean to count them all, but once we’d started it was hard to stop!

The prize for most cats spotted in one day went to Essaouira, at 248, with the grand total for Morocco being 1,079 no less! Now, I realise no one’s going to head to Morocco to count cats (or are they?) but they did provide a fun distraction.

The Sahara is more likely to be a main attraction and we decided it was a priority to include a trip to the world’s most famous desert if we possibly could. We went with a trip offered by Riad Maison Aicha which cost us £60 per person for a three-day excursion, including transport, overnight accommodation, breakfast, evening meals, guides and camels. We certainly didn’t regret it.

To get there, it took an eight-hour minibus drive from Marrakesh. Travelling along the ‘road of a thousand kasbahs’, across the Atlas Mountains and deep into the arid interior, turned out to be one of the highlights of our trip. We were let out at regular intervals to admire the views or explore various places on foot, including the epic Aït Benhaddou and stunning Dadès Gorges.

On arriving at Merzouga towards the end of the second day, it was time to continue our journey by camel. We weren’t sure how we felt about riding camels, and as we tentatively climbed on, along with the inevitable thrill of the experience, I couldn’t help thinking how much happier the camels would be just hanging out and doing their own thing.

At first it was a bit scary, then I relaxed enough to be able to take in the full wonder of being on a camel train winding across the Saharan dunes in the evening sun. It then became a bit of an endurance test as it seemed to go on and on, getting increasingly uncomfortable, especially on the downhill slopes, although apparently much worse for the males in the party.

When night was upon us and we finally saw the lights of our camp ahead, we couldn’t have been happier to dismount. I suspected that we might be offered an alternative mode of return transport, for an extra fee of course, as I was no doubt not the only one dreading another two hours astride a camel the following day. I wasn’t mistaken, but we were more than happy to splash out the extra tenner to give the camels – and our backsides – a well-earned rest and take up their offer of travelling back by jeep.

This also gave us an extra couple of hours to wander out into the dunes for sunrise. Sitting out under the stars by the fire, entertained by the local Berber drummers, was pretty magical, as long as we could accept experiencing it through the slightly artificial lens of being a tourist. But out in the dunes on our own the following morning we could connect more directly with the sublime landscape and let it touch us more deeply.

As we wandered reluctantly back to catch the four-by-four waiting for us, little did we suspect that our return journey would turn out to be far more exciting than we had given it credit for. We were given the option of sitting up on the roof – well, why not, I thought – and told to hold on tight. We soon found out why!

My knuckles must have gone rather white as our jeep struggled up the highest of dunes and launched us seemingly suicidally over the edges and down the steepest of slopes. It was certainly exhilarating and a memorable experience, but never had I been so pleased to get back into the minibus and relax into the long day’s drive back to Marrakesh.

On our return to Marrakesh, we stayed at Riad Dar Zaida, with its wonderful courtyard, where the three of us had an ensuite family room for the bargain price of £18.

As well as our desert trip, we spent a couple of days out at Essaouira on the coast – more laid back than Marrakesh but still rammed full of interesting alleyways and Moroccan wares.

Shyadma’s tiny mother and daughter kitchen in Essaouira was our favourite place to eat on our entire trip, being fully vegan and absolutely delicious as well as a bargain. It’s best not be in a hurry though, as it is all freshly prepared and cooked to order. A hidden gem – though we did find actor Colin Morgan as the one other diner there on our first visit.

Slightly fancier and also well worth a visit is the neighbouring and similarly vegan Le Corail, both listed on www.happycow.net, a must for plant-based travellers.

We also managed to fit in an overnight trip to the beautiful blue city of Chefchaouen, where we had the most stunning rooftop views from the wonderful Dar Bleu Pearl, where we paid £20 for a clean and spacious three-person en suite room.

We enjoyed indulging in more tagines, more meandering, more bartering and more cat spotting, relishing our final couple of days drinking in the magic of Morocco before starting back home. It felt like we’d been away for significantly longer than we actually had and our heads and hearts had been filled with a myriad of new sights and experiences to take with us, as we wound our way back home.

Overall, the trip cost us just over £1,000 each, half of which was spent on fares to Tangier and back and the rest on our accommodation and travelling around Morocco. The cost of food didn’t amount to much more than what we might spend at home, especially as we decided to go along with the generally alcohol-free culture in Morocco.

You can read more of Sal’s words at Adventures of an Archivist.