Retreat Report: Jnane Rumi

 A fellow hotel guest kneeled before me on a Berber rug, instructed to hold my bare feet as I stood on her palms. Time passed like an eternity. I’d practically just stepped off a three-hour flight from London. I tried to levitate. I tried anything to lighten the daunting task of this gracious guest, faced with holding my full weight. Birds chirped in the expansive private garden surrounding us. We remained still, silent, tucked away in Marrakech’s Palmeraie, a lush area marked by thousand-year-old flora. One minute left.

Our guide—Corinne van den Bergh, a striking Dutch somatic therapist and sculptor—advised us, along with a dozen others, to switch places. The intimacy of the exercise—paired with someone I’d never met, yet responsible for keeping her upright—was powerful. We rarely experience this level of vulnerability with others. I would later learn my partner’s remarkable story, her travels, and her wisdom. After a few days, I felt grounded by her presence, no longer preoccupied with whether I was weighing her down. Progress.

This session was typical during the “Fulfillment Retreat,” a five-day experience led by three international somatic psychotherapists specializing in trauma. The goal—to connect guests with a deeper sense of themselves and their purpose at various life stages—was achieved in unexpected ways among a group that spanned continents, languages, generations, and professions. Days were filled with deeper questions, somatic movement, and a sense of familial connection quickly fostered between strangers. Within days, I felt closer to these people than to friends I’ve known for a decade. At night, Moroccan musicians elegantly strummed in the background of majestic garden dinners.

The setting was ideal. Held at Jnane Rumi, one of Marrakech’s newest and most celebrated oases—a welcoming 12-room residence that more closely resembles an artistically spirited, palatial family home—with a caring staff of local experts and serene pace. Corinne and her husband, Dutch art lawyer Gert-Jan, originally intended the property to be exactly that: a getaway to spend time with their children and friends. Over years of development, the project evolved into something more inclusive—a cultural oasis with open doors.

A creative, closely knit family who travel far and wide together, they are enamored with authentic experiences. “We thought—the property is beautiful, why not share it? We love visiting wonderful hotels and finding the real thing. Not the big places, but the places where we feel the soul, love—something more truthful,” Corinne explains. “A hotel doesn’t need to be very luxurious. It can be simple. It stays with you because it’s genuine.”

Corinne epitomizes this sense of genuineness, and in turn, so does Jnane Rumi. When I arrived, she stepped outside, looked me in the eyes, gave me a hug and a motherly kiss on the cheek, then walked with her arm around my shoulders to a poolside rattan table, serving homemade (gluten-free, honey-sweetened) cakes before showing me around with the other guests. Everyone who steps onto the eclectic property feels taken care of, whether visiting for the weekend or a retreat. Instead of the surveilled feeling I regularly experience in luxury hotels that monitor your every move, this is a place where you can exhale and be yourself. Antique tables are scattered throughout the garden for private reflection. The family’s personal art collection offers a playful, intimate point of view, grounded by the work of local artisans. Pretense isn’t on the menu at Jnane Rumi.

I would return for the culinary experience alone—simple, locally sourced, and evolved. Meals were largely plant-based, aside from one fish dinner (extraordinary), each featuring layers of flavor and impeccably sourced ingredients. Portions were considered, served al fresco on stylish ceramic plates and white tablecloths. The food felt current: a blend of European restraint and Moroccan soul. The kitchen is led by Chef Moula Erraissi, formerly of +61, a hip, local favorite, and overseen by Dutch chef Karin Gaasterland, recently of El Fenn. Together, they take an unfussy approach to seasonal cuisine with quiet precision. All palates and dietary preferences are not only accommodated, but viewed as an opportunity to create something meaningful.

Weeks after visiting, I found myself missing the people I met at the retreat and our mind-expanding days. The work we achieved there had a lasting impact—they cracked open parts of me that are deeply rewarding. A subtle and fulfilling effect.While the property is available to book as a hotel or private stay, retreats are held during the winter and autumn seasons, with a rotating program of themes (2026 will focus on relationships and intimacy). If you’re in town in early February for Marrakech’s contemporary art fair, 1-54, Jnane Rumi will mark the occasion with a garden installation—an ideal moment to experience their artistic point of view. You can expect a warm welcome, and a worthy stay, year-round. I’ll be returning soon, as a better, more connected person since my last visit.