Morocco

My first visit to Morocco came during my gap year before college. As a lifelong tennis fan, I’d always wanted to attend the ATP tournament in Marrakech, the only tour-level event held in Africa, so I planned my trip around it. The tournament was especially meaningful because, a few months earlier, I had become friends with Spanish tennis player Adrián, who got me a player’s pass for the event. Although he had spent years competing on the professional tour without ever breaking into the top 100, he was still grinding away late in his career. It was incredibly rewarding to watch him fight through an epic qualifying match alongside his parents, who had supported him every step of the way.

Beyond the tennis, Morocco was my introduction to North Africa and the Arab world. I still remember wandering through Marrakech’s crowded souks, stopping for mint tea, hearing the call to prayer echo through the streets, and riding camels into the desert. Everywhere I looked, there was color, movement, and something new to discover.

Five years later, near the end of my journey to every country, I returned to Morocco, this time on a long layover in Casablanca while flying home from Nigeria. Two of my closest friends from the University of Miami, a brother and sister named Ilias and Dina, were from Casablanca and spent the day showing me around their city. We strolled along the waterfront, admired the magnificent Hassan II Mosque, and caught up over lunch at their family’s home. Having listened to Ilias and Dina talk about Morocco for years, it was especially meaningful to finally experience the country alongside them in the place they proudly called home.