After landing by private jet at the regional airport in Errachidia, Morocco, a flex in its own right, our small caravan of travelers with luxury outfitter Abercrombie & Kent is whizzing past date-palm groves and dusty desert villages. That same morning, we’d woken up in Granada, Spain, and after just 90 minutes on a cushy jet, we were already en route to a collective bucket-list moment: spending the night in the Sahara Desert. Without elite access to a chartered private jet, covering the distance between the two would have swallowed an entire day.
My excitement builds when the sloping, terracotta-hued sand dunes come into view, and we excitedly spot a duo of rogue camels grazing near the roadside. Suddenly, we’re off-roading and bumping along the rocky terrain to reach our next waiting mode of transportation, a gaggle of camels. This is a moment I’ve dreamed about for months. After the local guides wrap scarves around our heads for protection from the sun, sand, and wind, we mount our individual camels and start the wobbly trek across the dunes. It didn’t even faze me that I was hovering six feet off the ground, trusting an animal that had just catapulted me forward when it stood up, because I couldn’t help but be in awe of the rippling waves of red sand and utter quiet.
Soon, Abercrombie & Kent’s private tented camp near Et-Taous comes into view, its solar-powered tents standing in quiet formation on a lanterned path, glowing milky white against the terracotta sand. Unlike other outfitters, A&K builds its camps new for each group, then they’re disassembled and disappear like a mirage after the group departs. From the outside, the tents are unassuming. But once I duck inside, a whole new world opens up: a billowing fabric ceiling floats above a plush bed dressed in fine linens, grounded by layers of kilim rugs for warmth at night (temperatures in the desert dramatically plunge after dark). Passing through another opening, there’s a washbasin and mirror, and in the third curtained space, a chemical toilet and a handheld shower with warm water. Roughing it, this is not.
Soon, our group is summoned back to the main camp for sunset cocktails. Sipping wine while seated on patterned poufs, and spontaneously breaking out in dance as the sun casts its fiery glow on the sandy hills with my new friends—who were strangers just 48 hours ago—is a core memory in a five-day trip filled with many “pinch-me” moments. After a traditional Moroccan feast in the communal dining tent, the sounds of chanting and drumbeats beckon us to the fire circle. A group of musicians dressed in white robes belt out soul-stirring Gnawa music while we gaze at the stars that blanket the night sky. A&K purposefully seeks out isolated camp spots, and at this moment, that seclusion is not lost on me. Back in my tent, I snuggle under the sheets and silently thank those lucky stars above for a cozy bed with a warm electric blanket.
with traditional music, photo by Tom Griffiths
The next day, a private jet is waiting again, and in an hour, we touch down in Marrakesh. It’s an immediate energy shift from the solace of the desert. Over the next few days, our Moroccan guide Mohammad (who joined us for the entire trip) helps navigate the chaotic and winding labyrinths of the medina souks, introducing us to his favored makers of rugs—who unfurl their colorful wares like magic carpets—and to a white-coated man at an herbalist shop who’s hawking argan oil and herbal remedies.
We’re treated to an elaborate lunch on the lawn of the swanky Selman Marrakech hotel while being regaled by its private collection of champion Arabian horses. Their sleek coats glisten in the sun as they showcase their grace and pedigree training, from trotting to standing on their hind legs. And one morning, we slip on helmets and climb into the leather seats of vintage motorcycle sidecars to zip around Marrakesh. With the sun on our faces, we cut through the back alleys of the medina and then escape the frenzy of the old city to Palmeraie, a calm oasis of palm groves in an upscale area of town.
Part of the allure of an A&K Small-Jet Journey experience, which averages around 10 people, is the exclusive skip-the-line access to prime attractions. After our guide Mohammad easily gains entry for our group to wander the Jardin Majorelle—a color-drenched garden created by French painter Jacques Majorelle and restored by design legend Yves Saint Laurent—my mind drifts back to earlier in the week in Granada, Spain.
We’d slept at Hotel Palacio de Santa Paula, a former monastery in the city’s historic center dating back to the 16th century, then started our first full day with a behind-the-scenes tour of the Alhambra, a UNESCO World Heritage Site dripping in patterned tiles of Nasrid art and intricate architecture. The closest thing I’d seen to the Islamic palace was The Boca Raton’s Spa Palmera, which is fashioned after its Moorish architecture. After we roamed the outdoor gardens with fruit trees and arched hedges, the Alhambra’s director appeared, carrying the keys to the Tower of the Captive. The tower is not open to the general public—only to A&K’s guests. “The room talks to you,” he said, pointing out the carvings and inscriptions on the walls. “It’s screaming beauty, poetry, and learning.” That night, we were treated to dinner by a private chef who created traditional Sephardic dishes, accompanied by Spanish and Arabic music, and a beautiful dance performance with belly dance-esque movements that left us mesmerized.
By journey’s end, the gloss of private jets and exclusive experiences had given way to something deeper. It struck me how artfully A&K connected Granada and Morocco through their intertwined Islamic heritage. While my group experienced a shorter version of A&K’s 11-day journey through Spain and Morocco, it left me with a clear sense that the full itinerary is worth the time.
This story is from the July/August 2026 issue of Boca magazine. For more like this, click here to subscribe to the magazine.
