[Dec. 2025] That evening in Tangier, a port city in northern Morocco, we looked for a restaurant called Macondo, recommended by our local guide.
We soon found it and headed in without hesitation.
It was a neat and tidy restaurant with a lovely atmosphere.
My local guide had recommended checking out the rooftop, so we were shown there first.
The night view was certainly beautiful, but since we had already seen it from the roof of our accommodation, it wasn’t that impressive.
When we were shown to our table and looked at the menu, we thought, “Huh?”
To our surprise, this was an Italian restaurant.
We had no idea!
What a surprise, coming from Italy to Morocco and finding Italian food!
So we picked up the only Moroccan tagine (chicken) available and shared it with my husband.
It contained raisins and boiled eggs, and ironically, it was the best tagine I had during our trip.
And despite being an Italian restaurant, they also didn’t serve wine.
I was quite disappointed.
This dish absolutely pairs well with red wine.
As I mentioned before, the last time I visited Tangier (30 years ago), wine was available everywhere.
I asked AI about it, and it told me that alcohol restrictions in Morocco have been tightened since 2000, and that it’s now only possible to drink discreetly in tourist pubs and some hotels.
What a shame!
When it was time to pay, my husband chatted with the owner.
They’re both Italian, after all.
The owner, a 70-year-old woman from Como, northern Italy, near our home, had arrived in Morocco with some funds and initially operated a riad.
She had intended to return home with the money she earned from selling the riad, but found out that Morocco doesn’t allow you to take your earnings abroad, so she had no choice but to open this restaurant.
Later, my husband looked into it and found out that if you bring funds into the country, you have to go through various procedures before you can take them out.
“This place feels like a prison to me,” she lamented.
However, she said she frequently returns to her hometown of Como, saying, “It’s overtourism there, and I can’t move.”
We’ve experienced that ourselves.
Furthermore, when we told her we’d lived in London for a long time, she said, “I love London and go there often.”
After leaving, we went to a bar where you can drink alcohol that she had recommended.
I think it was called something like “The Wall.”
We spent some time sipping cocktails in the dim, seedy atmosphere.
The freshly fried potato chips served as an appetizer were delicious.
I didn’t see it, but my husband said that the French man there was employing local escorts.
It seemed like that kind of place.
