Jardin Majorelle: A magical oasis in Marrakech

It was one of those rare glorious days with not a speck of a cloud in the blue, blue sky. A day when restless schoolchildren would be ushered into a park on an excursion to appreciate nature at its best, a day when grandparents lingered on their favorite outdoor bench, a day when painters hurriedly settled in quiet open spaces, to catch just the ideal lighting for their canvases. Such was the morning we visited Jardin Majorelle in Marrakech.

We noticed a sign setting out the ground rules for the continued protection and preservation of the hallowed grounds. We gamely obliged, as did everyone else we encountered during our revealing walk of discovery.

Jardin Majorelle, named after the French painter Jacques Majorelle, was meticulously and painstakingly built over four decades. Son of Louis Majorelle, a renowned Art Nouveau furniture designer, he soon constructed Villa Bousafsaf within the complex. Later, an Art Deco painting studio was added – distinguished by the no-other-like striking shade of cobalt blue which we all know as the trademark Majorelle Blue.

In 1980, the globally admired and respected fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent, together with his business whiz of a lifelong partner Pierre Bergé, timely acquired the seen-better-days property and saved it from a proposed real estate development. They restored the garden with much care and genuine love and made Majorelle’s villa their Moroccan residence.

On our morning visit, the green patch seemed to be showing off! And how! The flowers in a rainbow of colors were at their finest. The water lilies, the towering bamboos, the rare varieties of cacti, and the swaying palms provided one lovely backdrop after another.

The koi, swimmingly lazily in their respective ponds, thrived with life. Even the fountains, with their synchronized rhythm, sounded particularly more than just pleasant.

All throughout, the blazing colors seemed brighter than usual — the blues, yellows and reds from the pots in varying sizes, to the decorative details, and lastly the two-story buildings, proudly stood out against the tableau of lush greenery.

While cicadas buzzed and flocks of birds in flashy plumage were everywhere in the air, the floor tiles’ signature azure color seemed to shine.

In some plots and cultivated spaces appeared plants growing in confusion, yet this was part of its charm. It’s pretty much like the English gardens where various greeneries and shrubberies melded together effortlessly.

Despite the number of visitors, there was an unspoken understanding among all. We made way for others who wanted photographs taken in strategic spots — and they extended the same courtesies to us in time. Some even offered to take pictures so an entire family or group may be complete — and made certain of no photobombers!

Nobody seemed inclined to shout, and conversations were toned down. Loud whispers were the order of the day. No surprise, but there were security stationed around the site, but they greeted visitors with half but friendly smiles.

We bumped into a group of tourists who curiously inquired our place of origin. Filipinos we proclaimed. They would not believe us. We tried to explain of our Spanish heritage. They quickly identified themselves from Timor-Leste and declared they are now members of ASEAN. It brought an unmistakable sense of solidarity and brotherhood while we were thousands of miles away from our home nations.

We made our way to the Love Gallery, where we marveled at several art pieces of Yves Saint Laurent. We’ve always known him for his luxury fashion brand, but a glimpse of his visual obras on canvas was absolutely a plus for the day.

Meanwhile, the boutique showcased Moroccan craftsmanship, with handmade pieces which reflected Amazigh traditions and Islamic art. Many incorporated hues, patterns and motifs associated with the style icon, to include flowers — and would you believe serpents?

We eventually opted for al fresco seats at Café Majorelle, as the day was too beautiful to pass up — we wished to savor every moment of it! We had tea, and even that particular cup seemed lovelier than usual. Perhaps the garden had something to do with it. We overheard a lady from a table beside us exclaim “The garden of paradise must have looked like this!” I just smiled and thought to myself: such moments are made in heaven.

Time had run out, as it was the moment for the next schedule on our carefully-curated and followed-to-the-point itinerary. But before we headed off, we retraced our steps back to the ultra-simple memorial of two gentlemen: Yves Saint Laurent and Pierre Bergé, a stark contrast to their lavish lives. We bowed down, whispered a prayer of gratitude for a bit of paradise on earth indeed.