I came to Marrakech to unwind. That was the plan, anyway. A few slow days by the pool, a good book, sun-warmed skin, and nothing scheduled. Well, that, and the fact I had a voucher for TUI due to an issue on a previous trip.
There’s something deeply luxurious about having no agenda. The kind of quiet that comes not from silence, but from giving yourself permission to do less and think less. To just exist, without that constant feeling that you should be doing something productive. For me, that kind of quiet only really lands when I’m far from home, completely disconnected from my every day.
Normally, I’d spend hours researching every detail of a trip—hotels, restaurants, neighbourhoods, proximity to things worth seeing. But this time, I was burnt out. I’d come to Marrakech off the back of a deeply stressful stretch at work. The kind of stress that doesn’t just sit in your head but moves in and makes itself comfortable. I’d had nosebleeds, stomach acid, and a stress rash so aggressive it looked like teenage acne. I needed space. I needed to do nothing, without guilt. To lie in the sun, read a good book, and laugh at dumb inside jokes with my partner. And for that, all-inclusive just made sense.
Before this, I hadn’t taken an all-inclusive holiday since my first trip abroad without family. I went on a budget escape to Crete I found advertised in the back of a TV magazine. (You know the kind that told you what to expect on next week’s EastEnders? Yeah that.) It was £300 for a week: flights, transfers, and a 4-star hotel with buffet dinners and free-flow soft drinks. Back then, I was earning £3.65 an hour working in a nursery, and it felt like a splurge. Naturally, the reality was as you’d expect.
When you first start travelling, you don’t really care about creature comforts. You’re just happy to be somewhere new. Hearing a different language. Tasting a different breakfast spread. Obtaining a new passport stamp. That early phase of travel is all wide eyes and low expectations.
That first all-inclusive trip to Crete? I booked it because I wanted a balance between adventure and safety. I figured: if I didn’t like the food in town, I could eat at the hotel. If I got tired of exploring, I had a pool to collapse by. But something shifted on that trip. I realised I was more adventurous than I’d given myself credit for. I wanted to try every dish on the menu, get lost in side streets, find local markets, skip the sunlounger and walk for miles instead.
But after that, I never booked all-inclusive again. I leaned into city breaks and bigger islands, choosing places with layers to peel back. I wanted to eat there, not here. I wanted to do things. And somewhere along the way, I decided that staying in a hotel all day just wasn’t me. So all-inclusive dropped off my radar. Until now. And this time I was actually excited by it.
The Art of The Fly and Flop
Sometimes you just need a break where your most strenuous activity is deciding which poolside lounger to claim and read your book on. To quite literally fly and flop. That’s the charm of all-inclusive: the moment you check-in, the pressure to “plan” disappears. My only real decision was whether to spend the day by the pool with the cabanas, or by the pool where everyone did water aerobics. (Obviously the latter). It’s a kind of freedom that feels oddly rare these days. A place where you can fully switch off, let go of decision fatigue, and operate almost entirely on autopilot.
Rest When You Want, Explore When You’re Ready
Of course, the itch to explore crept in eventually. It always does. I love seeing new countries. There’s something about stepping into someone else’s way of life and noticing how they build, cook, decorate and dress. Each country with its own textures, rhythms and philosophies of beauty and time. Not to compare, but to witness and appreciate. So yes—we left the pool. We wandered the souks. We tried traditional tagine. We visited Jardin Majorelle. We caught the sunset at Nobu. We stood in awe inside Ben Youssef Madrasa. But the best part was whether I was in the mood for exploring or just lying horizontal with a piña colada, it didn’t matter. We stayed at Hotel Riu’s Tikida Garden, and there was a gym, a spa, tennis courts and table tennis. Enough to keep even the most restless travellers busy but without the pressure to do any of it. Most days, I just dipped in and out of the pool when the sun got too intense, then dried off with my book in hand. It felt indulgent, in the best possible way.
The Comfort of Knowing There’s Always Something to Eat
On a typical trip, I spend a lot of time researching where to eat. Reading reviews, scoping menus, mentally shortlisting everything in a five-mile radius. But at an all-inclusive? That pressure evaporates. Do I miss out on iconic dining experiences? Sometimes. (But not really—because we still made time for some.)
Sometimes, as privileged as it sounds, you just get tired of choosing what to eat. And when I’m stressed, my appetite vanishes… Unless it’s pho, which for some reason always bypasses my stressy-depressy food aversions.
The buffet at our resort actually exceeded my expectations. Yes, there were the usual suspects: food heaters and bulk trays. But there was also a Moroccan section bursting with fragrant couscous, beautifully spiced tagines, and fresh grilled fish. And best of all? I didn’t have to commit. I could try everything. Go back for seconds if something landed. Or skip dinner entirely if I wasn’t hungry. It was just… easy—and easy was exactly what I needed.
The Joy of Switching Off
That’s the beauty of all-inclusive, really. It gives you the space to stop thinking. About what to do. Where to go. What to eat. It strips away the mental noise and replaces it with something gentler. The quiet confidence of knowing your next cold drink isn’t far. The ease of dipping in and out of the pool without watching the clock. The slow pleasure of finishing a book in two days that would’ve taken two weeks back home. I didn’t check my emails. I didn’t wear a watch. I didn’t think about work—not once. Instead, I let myself soften. I let my mind wander. I let go of the need to do anything other than rest.
Would I Book All-Inclusive Again?
Absolutely.
After a few days of sunshine, snacks, and no schedule, I felt ready to step back into the world again. To explore. To move. To be curious. But that’s a story for another post. This one’s about the power of doing nothing. Of choosing ease. Of letting go of guilt and giving yourself space. This trip wasn’t five-star and it wasn’t budget. It was somewhere in between. And it was exactly what I needed.
Because sometimes, the greatest luxury isn’t the place itself. It’s the freedom to simply be.
