What do I wish I'd known before visiting Morocco?

After years of debriefing clients at the end of trips, the "I wish I'd known" list is remarkably consistent, and money tops it every time. People wish they'd carried far more small cash and broken big notes early. Card coverage is patchy outside hotels and smart restaurants, ATMs sometimes run dry on weekends, and the entire informal economy — taxis, tips, market stalls, hammam attendants, the man who minds the car — runs on coins and small notes. The traveller who keeps a pocket of 20s and 10s glides through the day; the one holding only 200-dirham notes is constantly stuck.

The second universal regret is the temperature swing. "I only packed for heat" is the January refrain, but it bites year-round: desert nights are cold even in summer, riads with thick walls stay cool to the point of chilly, and the Atlas can be freezing while Marrakech bakes. The fix is layers and a scarf — the scarf shades you in the sun, warms you at night, covers your hair at a mosque courtyard, and doubles as a dust filter on a dune. People also wish they'd brought a power bank, a universal adapter, and far more comfortable shoes for the punishing cobbles.

On the street, the lesson people learn the hard way is to politely decline unsolicited guiding. The friendly young man who tells you "that way is closed" or offers to lead you to your riad usually wants a tip or a detour to a shop. It's rarely dangerous, just tiresome and occasionally costly. A warm "la shukran, I know the way" and confident walking solves it. Likewise, agree the taxi fare or insist on the meter before you get in, never after — and know that the petit taxis are shared and metered, while the negotiated "grand taxi" is a different animal.

The final wish is almost philosophical: people wish they'd slowed down and trusted the place sooner. Travellers who spent their first day tense and guarded tell me they wasted it, because Morocco opens up the moment you do. Download an offline map (medinas defeat GPS and street signs barely exist), learn five words of Arabic, build a buffer day, and let yourself get pleasantly, deliberately lost in a souk with no agenda. The best memories my clients bring home are almost never the ones they planned.