A Camera, a City, and Not Enough Time
I spent a long weekend in Marrakech recently—a quick escape to celebrate a friend’s birthday with my partner in one of the most vibrant and chaotic cities I’ve ever visited. Naturally, I brought my camera. My full-frame mirrorless kit came along, optimistically zipped into a sling bag, ready to document the colours, textures, and corners of a city I’d always wanted to photograph.
But in the end? I barely took any photos—and none that I’m especially proud of.
Marrakech Moves Fast—And I Wasn't There to Shoot
Trips like this are reminders that photography and travel don’t always sync. I was there for a celebration, not a shoot. Between taxis, meals, rooftop drinks, and wandering through the souks, the moments I could have spent setting up shots were swallowed by the simple joy of being present.
I had maybe ten, fifteen minutes at a time to try to capture something meaningful. But Marrakech doesn’t wait for photographers. It’s always in motion, always full, always loud and alive. And while that makes it intoxicating to walk through, it’s incredibly difficult to photograph—especially when you're short on time and trying to be respectful.
The Ethical Tug-of-War
One of the biggest challenges I hadn’t anticipated was just how many locals prefer not to be photographed. I understand that, and I respect it. But it meant I had to constantly reframe—literally. Scenes I might have instinctively shot back home or elsewhere in the world suddenly felt off-limits. Raising my camera even for a wide street scene often drew wary glances.
Rather than push boundaries, I adapted: I looked for moments without faces, focused on textures, colours, and shadows. I tried to capture the feeling of Marrakech without capturing the people directly. It made me see the city differently—more sensitively, more intentionally.
Dust, Bulk, and Practical Limits
Then there’s the dust. Marrakech is a beautiful, crumbling, sun-soaked maze—but it’s hard on gear. With fine dust hanging in the air, changing lenses outdoors felt like inviting disaster. I stuck with a 24-105mm zoom for the entire trip and left everything else in the case.
Also carrying around a bulky camera has its limitations. On a fast-paced trip like this, where photography wasn’t the main event, I found myself leaving the camera in my bag or even leaving it behind more often than not. It slowed me down. It made me hesitate. It wasn’t ready when I was.
As a result, I’ve been rethinking how often I carry my full-frame setup. I’ve realised that while it’s technically brilliant, it doesn’t always suit the rhythm of everyday life—or short trips like this. So now, I’m looking into something smaller, lighter, and more discreet—something I can keep with me all the time without it becoming a burden. A true everyday camera that won’t get in the way of simply enjoying the moment.
No Photos, No Problem?
So yes, I came back a few photos but not one I really love. That’s disappointing. As a photographer, especially one passionate about travel, you always hope for at least one frame that speaks back to you. This time, I didn’t get that.
But honestly? I’m okay with it.
Because it was a fabulous weekend. The kind of weekend where the camera takes a back seat—not because the city isn’t worth photographing (it absolutely is), but because the moment was more important. Sometimes you don’t get the photo. Sometimes you just get the memory. And sometimes, that’s enough.
Next time, I might go back solo or with more dedicated time to explore and shoot. But for this trip, I got exactly what I needed: some romance, good people, alot of fun, a bit of sun, and a few fleeting moments where I almost got the shot.
