But, for some reason, I seem to have gone the other way. Despite the fading eyesight and creaky bones, I’m bolder since hitting 60 than I’ve ever been. It’s the feeling of life getting shorter, mixed with a need to hurry up and get those ambitions ticked off that bucket list before it’s too late that spurs me on. So each trip away becomes a little more daring than the last. That’s why, a month ago, instead of going for a peaceful weekend in the Cotswolds, I chose to take a 48-hour solo holiday in exotic Morocco.

I wasn’t going to rough it, oh no. I mean, I don’t mind a bit of glamping but, this time, I wanted luxury. I was given the opportunity to stay Casa Memoria, a breathtaking villa near Marrakech, and grabbed it with both hands.

Because I only had 48 hours to spare, I made sure my itinerary was action-packed. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to have a good few hours indulging in less frenetic activities – namely lounging by the pool and people-watching from cafés and bars in town. I wanted to experience the magic of Morocco but didn’t want to totally wear myself out. Balance is the key to a successful whirlwind two-day escape.

Here’s how it went…

After taking an EasyJet flight from the UK – the return ticket was just £130 – within a few hours, I was at Marrakech airport. A 30-minute taxi ride (which cost around £50) led me to Casa Memoria, a stunning villa set in nine hectares of lush gardens. As I walked through the grand tiled hallway and out into the grounds, palm trees in contrast with the bright green grass and colourful flowers dotted everywhere, the stress of my life in England started to melt away.

The villa itself had a real 1930s vibe to it, even though it was built in 2008. Its six gorgeous suites, which can sleep up to a total of 12, were decked out with traditional zellige tiles and comfy queen-size beds. A strong scent of roses hung filled each room. The air-conditioning gave instant relief from the 40-degree heat outside and promised a great night’s sleep.

On both mornings, I woke to the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting up the stairway. Breakfast could be as minimal or lavish as I liked with a choice of fresh bread with local honey, eggs, strong coffee or mint tea, all prepared by the villa’s talented chef.

The first morning, after breakfast, I walked across the lush lawn to the 25-metre turquoise-tiled pool, heated to a perfect 30 degrees. A waiter appeared to take my drinks order and returned minutes later with water and coffee. I flicked through a novel I’d borrowed from the villa’s quirky book collection and wiggled my toes. This was the life!

After a swim, I decided to have a wander around the grounds

The peacocks, emerging from the olive groves, screeched at me in greeting (I think it was in greeting anyway) as I walked barefoot across the dense and spongey lawn.

Back inside the house, I started to explore. I’d read up a bit on Casa Memoria and had discovered that, despite the building being relatively new, it already had history. It had once been home to the legendary artist Bill Willis, and his bold paintings and sculptures, mixed with ancient Moroccan treasures, featured in every room.

After lunch – cinnamon-dusted chicken and a fresh beetroot salad – on the terrace, I took a 20-minute taxi ride into Marrakech. I soon became lost in the souks, haggling for leather bags and unusual handmade jewellery.

The heat was almost unbearable, and the air was dusty. I dodged the man in the market square offering me a monkey to hold, and swerved the snake charmer and his swaying cobra! I bought a pendant and some healthy tea then made my way ‘home’.

Back at the villa, dinner was pure magic: tender lamb tagine, spiced oranges and creamy crème brûlée, accompanied by chilled local white wine. As the stars came out, I stepped back into the garden. The night was still and warm, the peacocks silent, the scent of flowers divine. Heavenly! That night, I slept like a particularly contented and well-fed baby.

Into the desert…

On the second day, after another delicious breakfast, I headed to the Agafay Desert, about 40 minutes away, for a half-day adventure with Starry Morocco Tours. I started with a camel trek.

When I first saw the camels, with their gyrating jaws and matted fur, the younger, more fearful me kicked it. I had a bad back and climbing up one of these huge humpy beasts looked difficult. I couldn’t imagine that a trek across the sun-baked plains, the Atlas Mountains towering in the distance, aboard one of these stinky creatures would do my sciatica any good, so at first I declined.

Watching other people clamber up though caused me to come to my senses. “I’ll do it!” I shouted. The camel lowered itself by bending its front legs into a kind of kneeling position (although technically I suppose the bending parts are elbows, not knees!) and a kindly man in a turban and long robe helped me up. The initial lurch as the camel returned to standing position was a bit scary but, other than that, the experience was fine. And, oddly, my back felt better after the trek than before.

Then came the real thrill – quad-biking over dunes and rocky trails. The adrenaline rush was unreal as we raced across the desert, following our instructor, dust flying in huge clouds behind us as we rode!

Later, guests at Casa Memoria, could enjoy a traditional Moroccan massage at the neighbouring hotel’s spa. Dinner was another masterpiece: flaky pastries stuffed with aubergine and perfectly spiced chicken that I’m still intending to try cooking at home. As night fell, I sipped cocktails and watched an amazing fire performance – a mesmerising end to a perfect day.

Information

Casa Memoria, an all-inclusive paradise with gourmet meals and drinks included, is perfect for anyone who craves luxury and adventure. It’s romantic enough for a weekend away with a paramour (not that I have one, but I can dream!), ideal for a chic getaway with friends, and is a fabulous venue for a family milestone celebration. The staff made the experience seamless and luxurious. And while it’s not cheap (check prices at Casa Memoria), every moment was worth it.

My stay at Casa Memoria combined sophistication, adventure and Moroccan soul. From the heated pool to the art-filled rooms, from desert thrills to souk treasures, this 48-hour escape was pure joy. I left with memories – and a feeling of pride at being such a daredevil. I’ll cherish that forever.

Jacqui Deevoy

Jacqui Deevoy has been a freelance journalist for over three decades, starting out on teenage magazines, then later working for women’s magazines worldwide, and national newspapers including the Daily Mail, the Mirror, Express and Telegraph. These days, as well as writing for magazines, papers and websites, she produces documentaries and hosts a Monday night talk show for Unprecedented TV.

The post My unforgettable 48-hour solo holiday in Morocco appeared first on Silver Magazine.

If you’re still waiting for Mr Erratic Texter to firm up that “we should totally go away sometime,” mini break, or for that much-discussed girls’ trip to finally escape the group chat, maybe it’s time to just throw in the towel and treat yourself. Nothing shows self-worth and empowerment quite like booking yourself a luxury solo staycation. Right here in the UK.

Forget the faff of airport queues, the “whose turn is it to choose dinner?” debates, or compromising on itineraries. A solo staycation is indulgence, luxury, and a delicious freedom from the niggles of life.

When London is your playground, why look further? I live a swift 14-minute train ride into Victoria. And Eccleston Square Hotel, an elegant Grade II-listed Georgian terrace that once counted Winston Churchill as a neighbour, is a few moments’ walk from the station. If your arrival point into the capital is Victoria, then again, this could make the perfect base for your trip.

This is not your standard London boutique

The styling immediately gives ‘successful gay man’ energy in the best possible way. Expensive greys, Ralph Lauren pillows, a mirror TV in the bathroom, and electric blackout blinds.

Eccleston Square Hotel also has all the gadgets you might want to feel a little fancy.  The clincher for me was that every room of this chic pied a terre has a £30,000 massage bed to ensure you get the best night’s sleep possible.  Anyone else completely obsessed with getting a good night’s sleep? It’s become a fixation for me…

The pièce de résistance, however, is the beautiful balcony overlooking the square’s award-winning gardens. Being a Balcony Princess comes naturally to me. I can (and did) while away hours perched out there. People-watching, sipping, snacking, reading, and generally having the nicest bit of ‘me time’ I’ve had in a while.

You can relax at home, some might say…

But the joy of a luxury solo staycation is that the nagging awareness of laundry piles, housework, and Vinted returns ebb away. There’s a delicious decadence in doing exactly what you want, when you want. Nobody is asking you to split hairs over whether to breakfast at 8am or 9am. You don’t have to negotiate whether you’ll be spending the day trawling art galleries you don’t care about. Freedom for me is breakfast at noon, naps at 3pm, and eating dinner when I want.

Victoria itself makes an ideal base, not just for travel logistics, but for access to some of London’s finer indulgences. I decided to fully lean into my wellness era with a solo trip to Vidavvi on South Molton Street.

This place isn’t your average spa experience. This is biohacking. Their machines are designed to literally speed up your body’s detoxing and rejuvenating processes. Ideal when you’re a perimenopausal, jet lagged, stressed mess. Like me.

My four-stage circuit included infrared light therapy, cryotherapy in a -85 °C chamber, lymphatic drainage, and a dry water massage. The best part? You’re on your own, so you avoid that bit where your friends would either be waiting for you or you would have to wait for them. I emerged with a spring in my step. And none of that dishevelled, smudged eye look you can get from a day spa.

Post biohacking, I treated myself to a mooch around Selfridges and a little nap before making the most important decision of the day.

Room service or dinner out?

Luckily, Eccleston Yards is about five minutes from the hotel, and there you will find the Jones Family Kitchen. The vibe is relaxed but polished, exposed brick, moody lighting, and their steak is truly *chef’s kiss. As I took my seat, I noticed the place was filled with large groups of men having lively post-work catch-ups over huge Chateaubriands. I took this as an encouraging omen about the steak quality (never fails). I went all-in; medium-rare fillet, an array of indulgent sides, champagne, red wine, and an espresso martini. At this point, I really was putting a lot of faith in that bed.

The next morning delivered sunshine, blue skies, and a clear day ahead. I took breakfast on the balcony again, naturally, making use of every last available moment as Balcony Princess. As I took my coffee and got waved at (true story) I planned my day.

Elizabeth Street is probably one of the prettiest (and most Instagrammable) streets in London. Pretty pastel shop fronts, independent boutiques, and of course, Peggy Porschen and her famously photogenic cakes. But having the opportunity to chill in Eccleston Square Gardens (above) had more appeal as they are only accessible if you are a guest of the hotel or a resident.

My instincts were right; the gardens here are truly exceptional.  Award-winning, in fact.  I spent the rest of my stay lying under the tree, eavesdropping on the regulars’ conversations, and enjoying how lucky I was to be able to do this. And quite honestly? There’s nothing more luxurious than that.

Eccleston Square Hotel – rooms from around £248 per night

Emmie Blower

Always finding the BEST holidays, hotels and restaurants. Travel, food and wellness writer, content creator, and reviewer.

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The post Looking for a luxury solo staycation? appeared first on Silver Magazine.