What is Casablanca like in January?

I always tell people January is the month that surprises them most about Casablanca. They arrive braced for North African heat and instead step out of Mohammed V airport into a soft, grey, almost Atlantic-British coolness. Daytime tops out around 17 or 18°C, and the breeze coming off the ocean has a real edge to it, especially along the Corniche where I like to walk first thing. It is the wettest month of the year here, so the sky is often the colour of old pewter, and a sudden squall can blow through and pass within the hour.

What I love about January in this city is how unhurried it feels. The summer crowds are long gone, the riads and hotels are quiet, and you can have a window table at a seafood place in the port at lunchtime without booking. I always send guests to the Hassan II Mosque in the late morning, partly because the dramatic skies over the ocean make the minaret look even more imposing, and partly because the marble esplanade catches the light beautifully when the clouds break. Bring a proper layer though — that wind whips across the open plaza.

Evenings get genuinely cool, dropping to 8 or 9°C, and many older buildings here have no real heating, so I tell people to pack a warm jumper and not assume "Morocco" means warm nights. On the other hand, the rain keeps everything green and washes the dust off the art deco facades downtown, which is when I think the old French-era architecture around Place Mohammed V looks its absolute best. A morning coffee in a steamy café watching the city go to work in the drizzle is one of my quiet pleasures.

My honest advice for a January visit is to treat Casablanca as a two-day city base rather than a beach destination — the ocean is too cold and rough for swimming — and use the calm, low-season pace to really explore. Pair it with the cafés, the mosque, a wander through the Habous quarter, and dinner somewhere warm and lively. Pack a waterproof, an umbrella that survives wind, and an open mind, and January rewards you with a moody, atmospheric version of the city most visitors never see.