First Light in Africa

The soul and the hustle of Marrakech

Photography is often a game of patience, but the best shots are sometimes the result of pure serendipity. I had been looking for the right moment to make my first journey to Africa for a long time. I wanted the light, texture and raw energy that only this continent can offer.

Then, on 11 April, after a week of searching, I found an opening at Riad Armelle, a quiet sanctuary at 23 Derb Lhotel, on a Saturday morning. I packed my Leica M10, M6 and M-A cameras and finally set out on the journey I had been looking forward to for years.

A study in atmosphere:

Marrakech greeted my first visit to Africa with a rare and ever-changing mood. We arrived in wet and grey conditions, with the ancient stones of the medina shimmering with rain. But as the days passed, the city changed. The air cleared to a perfect 23°C, eventually peaking at a blistering 30°C. This shift provided the high contrast and harsh shadows for which Leica glass is renowned.

The big square and the silent sentinel

You cannot talk about Marrakech without mentioning the Jemaa el-Fnaa. Standing in the vast square, the tower of the Koutoubia Mosque looms over everything like a silent sentinel of history. It is the city’s compass. No matter how lost you get in the Medina’s maze of streets, if you look up and see the tower, you know where you are.

Using the Leica M-A in the shadow of the Koutoubia was a real challenge. In the 30-degree heat, amidst the grilling smoke and relentless buzz, the M-A forced me to stand still. There are no LEDs in the viewfinder to indicate whether you have set the exposure correctly; you have to read the light on the ochre walls of the tower yourself. With Kodak Pro Image 100 loaded, the M-A’s exceptionally clear viewfinder enabled me to capture the chaos of the square with a precision that the M6 could not match. Every ‘click’ felt like a hard-won victory against the heat and crowds.

The Friction of the Souks

From the open square, you dive into the souks — a labyrinth of deep nostalgia that clashes with the reality of total tourism. You can feel the weight of it in the air; the hustle for money clings to the people like the dust itself.

As a photographer, capturing an image here felt like a battle. Many people react badly to having their picture taken; I respect that, but it makes capturing an authentic moment difficult. Conversely, once you buy something, the ‘transactional’ door opens and you’re told you can take as many pictures as you like. To me, that never feels genuine. Witnessing the immense luxury of tourism while standing in the middle of a poor community just trying to survive is a strange emotion to navigate. You aren’t just taking a photo; you are navigating the reality of their daily survival.

Why the M-A Stole the Show

Although I took the M10 for speed and the M6 as a backup, it was the M-A that defined this trip. Its technical purity demanded my undivided attention. I fed the camera a steady diet of Kodak Portra 400 and Kodak Pro Image 100 film.

The Portra 400 softened the world, capturing the human element in the warm shadows of the spice alleys.

The Pro Image 100 captured the vibrant silks and terracotta of the Koutoubia mosque with a punch and clarity that felt as hot as the air itself.

M-A images are sharper and more intentional because the camera leaves no room for hesitation. It is photography at its most honest.

The Small Intimacy: The Song of the Mellah

We moved from the ‘big’ square to the ‘small’ Mellah. The streets felt more personal, the heavy commercial roar fading into something more communal. As we walked through the narrow corridors towards the Slat Al Azama Synagogue, the atmosphere changed from commercial to spiritual.

In the Mellah, we could hear singing.

The sound echoed through the blue-and-white courtyard — a hauntingly beautiful melody that anchored the history of the Jewish Quarter in the present. I stood there for a long time, simply listening. The tension of the marketplace evaporated. Here, the M-A was in its element, capturing a moment that finally felt authentic and open-hearted.

Final reflections:

Every evening, we escaped to the peaceful surroundings of Riad Armelle to unwind. This was my first time in Africa, and I found exactly what I had been looking for: a city of dramatic contrasts, where the beauty of nostalgia and the hustle and bustle of modern life coexist. I left with my bags full of exposed film and a deep respect for people who guard their privacy as fiercely as they do their traditions.

The Atlas Mountains deserve a story of their own — stay tuned for the next post!

Thank you,