A magical garden in Morocco

I recently had a holiday in Morocco, where I did not expect to find any gardens of note. I was most surprised to find one, which was really magical.

It is called the Blue Garden or Jardin Marjorelles, in Marrakech, and was originally designed and laid out by Jacques Marjorelle in 1924. In 1947 he opened the garden to the public but he died in 1962.

The couturier Yves San Laurent and Pierre Berge rescued it and a trust has been formed to ensure that the gardens remain open for everyone to enjoy.

On entering the garden all the plants are succulent and growing in sand. Usually this gives the impression of draught, but here it feels very abundant. All of the plants looked well and cared for.

It was amazing to see the cacti and other succulents that we grow in little pots on the window-sill growing so vigorously there.

Over the succulents we could see the blue colour of the museum, which is part of the garden, and fits so well into its surroundings.

Here there are the ceramics and other artefacts which were collected by Jacques Marjorelle and many of the pots were painted in very bright colours.

This gave the garden life, brightness and a feeling of joyousness, which is not often felt to the same degree in our climate.

They were not put into pots so that they could be brought inside if the weather turned cold, but because they looked good.

As we progressed we came to pillars, which were the pink colour of Marrakesh itself, and in a shadier place.

Gradually we came to an area with palm trees, where the atmosphere was different.

There are so many differing types of palm and many varieties were collected from all over the world.

Towards the end of our journey we passed through an area of bamboos, which was full of many wonderful varieties, all with differing stems.

These were also collected from a range of different habitats, many of which I had never seen before.

The garden was certainly worth rescuing and we owe a great debt to Yves San Laurent and his friend for making it available for us to go and see.

By Pat Edwards