Rug Hunting in Morocco

Khenifra, Morocco- 2017

I woke up to a bright, sunny day in Beni Mellal, Morocco. The day before had been cold and rainy, and I’d spent most of it trying to sleep in the car to avoid motion sickness from the winding roads high in the Atlas Mountains. As much as I hated missing the scenery, sleep was the only way to push through the nausea.

This morning, though, everything felt different. The sunshine was warm, breakfast was poolside, and I had my game face on. Our guide was taking us to Khenifra, a small village about halfway between Marrakech and Fes, for the Saturday rug auction.

The Khenifra Rug Auction takes place at the Souk Central des Tapis, right in the heart of town. The process is surprisingly similar to auctions in the U.S.: the dallal, or auctioneer, starts with an opening bid, then circles with the rug as people raise their offers until the highest price is reached. The money goes directly to the supplier, and the dallal takes a small commission. Rugs arrive here from surrounding villages, and many of the women who wove them come to watch their work being sold—even though they aren’t allowed to bid themselves.

Thankfully, I had my Moroccan guide to help with bargaining and purchasing. Most of the rugs being sold that day were massive, bright red pieces I hadn’t seen before. They aren’t popular in the U.S., and I wondered why so many people wanted them. I later learned they’re often purchased collectively by villages to donate to local mosques. Other buyers were purchasing inventory for shops and souks in Marrakech and Fes.

Since nothing at the auction stood out to me, a shop owner offered to take us to his warehouse for a larger selection. We drove through town to a brick building, where we were hit immediately by the smell of burning wool. Inside were hundreds of rugs—and a workshop where local men were finishing new pieces. Gorgeous Beni Ourains covered the floor, their backs freshly burned to tighten the weave and eliminate loose fibers.

We stepped carefully through their workspace into a room stacked floor to ceiling with rugs. As always, the workers began pulling pieces down one by one while I gave quick yes-or-no answers until we narrowed it down to about twenty.

Tip: never buy a rug in Morocco without seeing it in natural light—it can look completely different indoors. Naturally, I asked the men to haul all twenty rugs up to the roof so I could take a better look. Spread out in the sun, it was easier to narrow them down to just a few I knew I couldn’t leave Khenifra without.

We loaded up the car and headed back to Beni Mellal, my treasures in tow. What I loved most about the day was how off-the-beaten-path it felt. In all of Khenifra, I never saw another foreigner. Instead, I got to be immersed in the rhythm of local life—haggling for rugs, eating tagine with our hands, and soaking in the beauty of the countryside. A day well spent.