From Morocco with love: warm hospitality, life lessons and lemon cake

"Eat, eat," urges Fatimah as she brings plate after plate of food from her tiny kitchen to the groaning table. We've already feasted on homemade salads, but now a row of traditional terracotta tagines fills the length of the tables. When their chimney-style lids are removed, the heady aroma of spice fills the room, and we abandon all fantasies of eating a light lunch.

Fatimah's daughter Fatiha, a university student, translates for her mother: in one tagine, chicken and blushing quince have been slowly cooked with meltingly soft onion. In another, artistically arranged braised root vegetables are topped with a generous spoonful of spicy blood-red harissa. The two women hover near the table, anxious to make sure we're enjoying the meal. When the oohs and aahs of pleasure fill the room, they beam.

We're in Fatimah's home in Meknes, in Morocco's north, where our small group of travellers has been given a warm welcome. After removing our shoes and washing our hands, we settle into the cosy living area where low tables designed for communal dining are surrounded by sofas piled high with cushions. Although we need Fatiha's help with translation, we chat with Fatimah about our lives at home, our families and jobs. When words fail, big smiles and nods of appreciation for the beautiful food suffice.

On a nine-day tour of Morocco with Intrepid Travel, our itinerary has included exploring many of its world-famous monuments and cultural treasures: we've walked through the early morning mist rolling off the Atlantic Ocean across the forecourt of the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca and taken a private tour through its cavernous marble-clad spaces, we've explored the fascinating ruins of the 3rd century UNESCO World Heritage-listed Roman city Volubilis - once home to 10,000 people - and stood outside Bab El-Khemis Gate in Meknes to admire its exquisite mosaics, imagining life inside the walls of the 13th-century kasbah.

More than just a history tour, we're getting to know the country as it is today too, and our guides and hosts help us make the connection between the past and present. Passionate about their home cities, they're as eager to talk about modern Morocco as they are to share its ancient traditions and culture.

In the imperial city of Meknes, our guide Madiha knows her city inside and out. Separated from Spain by a mere 13 kilometres at its tip and an important Atlantic and Mediterranean port, Morocco has never been isolated, she explains. As she leads us through the city's 350-year-old mellah (Jewish quarter) and into the market in the medina, Madiha tells us about life in the city from ancient times to today. A picture begins to form of a culture rich in art, literature, beauty and commerce; a place of military machinations, and grand architectural visions.

When we get to the kasbah, she points to one of the exquisitely detailed mosaics on the huge gates enclosing the city: here symbols of the three great Abrahamic religions - Islam, Judaism and Christianity - are part of the one harmonious design. This live and let live philosophy is alive and well today, explains Madiha. "It's all about focusing on what we share and respecting and accepting other beliefs," she says.

Madiha is one of many impressive women we meet on this tour. The next day, wandering through a dozen or so of the 10,000 streets and narrow alleyways that make up the Fes medina, Layla, our guide, proudly explains that the city is the home of the University of al-Qarawiyyin. Thought to be the world's oldest higher learning institution, legend says it was founded in 859 by Fatima al-Fihri, the daughter of a wealthy merchant. While scholars dispute this origin tale, the story is still meaningful in a country where education is a priority, and not just for men. Today women make up more than 50 per cent of all graduates and literacy for women overall has been steadily increasing since the late 1990s. As if to prove her point, while Layla is telling us about Fes's long history of scholarship and invention, university students pour out of nearby buildings for their lunch break.

Food is never far from anyone's mind in Morocco. As well as the stalls selling trays of syrup-soaked pastries and sweets, there are dazzling pyramids of fruits and vegetables, artistic displays of olives in every hue from yellow to green and black, sesame-topped breads straight from the oven, and thirst-quenching pomegranate juice, squeezed to order. You could snack all day here and never need a proper meal. But that would be a rookie mistake. Moroccan hospitality is legendary.

After a long day exploring, we're keen to sample a little more of it. Behind a nondescript door in an ordinary Fes street, Dar Chadia is a family home that has been transformed into a traditional restaurant. We head down a narrow hallway to the Riad's central courtyard, lured by the sound of ululation and frantic drumming. As the waiters, carrying trays of bastilla above their heads, carefully weave around the musicians, matriarch and chef Shayda leads the dancing.

Later, ensconced in an alcove with a view of the performers, the food just keeps coming. Delicate salads of cooked vegetables and soft puffs of breads to start, then the rich chicken pastries topped with cinnamon and sugar the restaurant is famous for. Dancing and clapping are the only way to build an appetite for the mint tea and sweet pastries that follow. Many diners leap up to join the dancers and it's as joyous and chaotic as a wedding.

The next day, slightly worse for wear, we head out of Fes towards the Atlas Mountains. The route takes us through cool cedar forests where the monkeys own the roads and past groves of oak and tall cypress. We have a fair amount of ground to cover, but there's no need for entertainment. Looking at the mountain-hugging roads and deep valleys reminds me of every grand road trip I've ever taken - the road stretching out before us, every bend and twist revealing another spectacular sight.

Our only stop, after a quick coffee in the resort town of Ifrane, is on the outskirts of a small village for lunch. Tigmin Fatima is a social enterprise run by local women for local women and one of many small local businesses Intrepid supports. Offering opportunities to learn skills and earn money, the restaurant has become a favourite stopping place on the road between Fes and Marrakech.

Finally heading towards Bin El Ouidane, where we'll spend a few days swimming and relaxing by the lake, the sky burns an intense pure orange as the sun slowly dips. After a week in Morocco, intensity simply feels like the norm now. From the vibrant hand-painted tiles to the iconic Majorelle blue - the colour that adorns houses, doors and pottery - and the music, the food and overwhelming hospitality, there's nothing beige about Morocco.

I think of this when we say our goodbyes to Fatimah and Fatiha in Meknes. When I ask Fatimah if she would share the recipe for her lemon cake with me, our connection shifts gear. Now two conspiring bakers, Fatimah is suddenly much more serious. I make notes on my phone, detailing ingredients and method with precision. I have to get this right.

A few weeks later at home, I dig out the recipe and bake the cake, remembering Fatimah's wide smile and incredible cooking. As usual, the cake lasts just a few hours before it's completely devoured. The memory of Fatimah is destined to last much longer.

The writer was a guest of Intrepid Travel