Pétanque Social Club — A Frequency in the Desert
By Rafi Mercer
New Listing
Venue Name: Pétanque Social Club (PSC Marrakech)
Address: 70 Boulevard El Mansour Eddahbi, Guéliz, Marrakech, Morocco.
Website: pscmarrakech.com
Instagram: @psc_marrakech
Some places don’t announce themselves; they hum. Hidden behind a blue door on a quiet stretch of Guéliz, Pétanque Social Club feels like one of those secrets that Marrakesh still keeps for the curious — a garden, a gallery, a listening bar, a time capsule, and a dream all stitched into one.
I first walked in just before dusk. The light was slipping behind the palms, the air warm and heavy with jasmine. Inside, the city’s pulse seemed to fade. Terrazzo floors underfoot, velvet curtains breathing gently, chandeliers scattering soft light across the old stone. Somewhere, deep in the mix, a track drifted through the room — the kind of sound you feel before you hear. The balance was perfect: bass rounding the air, highs glinting like heat off glass. Someone had tuned this room with care.
That makes sense. PSC is not a novelty but a revival. The club dates back to the 1930s, when Marrakesh’s European quarter — Guéliz — was still a new idea, a meeting ground of artists, diplomats, and dreamers. It was Kamal Laftimi, the quietly visionary restaurateur behind Café des Épices, Nomad, and Le Jardin, who brought it back to life. With designers Diego Alonso and Alexeja Pozzoni, he turned the forgotten pétanque club into a contemporary social salon — part history, part future, all atmosphere.
The building unfolds in layers. There’s the main bar and restaurant, where cocktails and conversation merge; a garden that feels like the city exhaling; and rooms that seem to belong to another century. Each has its own sound field — a subtle modulation of tone and tempo. One moment, you’re hearing gentle jazz and Moroccan percussion under the vines; the next, deep electronic textures in the interior lounge. The sound system, a custom installation, carries fidelity rather than force. It lets you talk, feel, and listen in equal measure.
When you walk the tour, as I did, you realise how carefully every inch has been considered. Upcycled shutters serve as tables. Vintage chairs from La Mamounia sit beside modernist lamps. The walls carry murals that hint at old North African posters. It’s sensual without being sentimental — style used in service of mood.
And then there’s the pétanque court itself — the heart of the club, perfectly restored, still open to play. By day, you hear the soft thud of boules on sand, laughter echoing from under the trees. By night, the court becomes theatre — bathed in amber light, framed by the hum of the bar. It’s the sound of leisure itself, a rhythm older than the turntable.
The menu moves with similar elegance: Moroccan roots reimagined with Mediterranean ease. Dishes arrive like music — balanced, unfussy, full of resonance. Think grilled sardines, citrus-bright salads, and tagines recast in lighter, modern textures. Cocktails mirror the palette of the desert — citrus, saffron, rosemary, and the now-famous Sahara Spritz, all poured with quiet precision.
What struck me most was the equilibrium of it all. PSC manages something rare: a social energy that never tips into chaos, a fidelity that holds its shape even when the room fills. You can sit at the bar and lose yourself in conversation, or drift outside and catch the soft cross-fade of voices and vinyl. Every frequency seems to have been tuned not for volume, but for human connection.
As the evening deepened, I wandered through the spaces again — the courtyard glowing, the DJ easing from jazz into deep groove, couples playing pétanque under the lanterns. It felt almost cinematic: a gem in the desert, lit from within. Marrakesh can be overwhelming; this place restores your senses.
The night ended the way good ones do here — slowly, with another drink, another track, another conversation that might stretch until tomorrow. The sound lingered long after I left, the air outside still warm, the moon bright above the palms. Pétanque Social Club isn’t just another venue; it’s a reminder that leisure, when done well, can be art.
Rafi Mercer writes about the spaces where music matters. For more stories from Tracks & Tales, subscribe, or click here to read more.
