Sunday 8th March 2020

Essaouira

The riad’s building was originally a flour mill, built in 1894. After major restoration and a total refit, the 33 roomed riad opened its doors in 2005.

As you enter the riad after the walk down the dusty, darkened alleys to reach it, it is like a breath of fresh air; breathing out as you walk through its doors  and enter the tiled salons with decorated horseshoe arches. This is all enhanced by a thuya wood ceiling.  The thuya tree is a coniferous tree endemic to Morocco.  Due to its scarcity, its use is apparently regulated.

Our breakfast was served on the 4th floor overlooking the magnificent views of the Atlantic. Adjacent to the glass fronted restaurant is a sun terrace for sunnier and calmer weather.

Essaouira is known for being a windy place. At the moment, it is just a little breezy and the tide is coming in and crashing over the rocks below.

A man is searching the rock pools with the aid of a stick, perhaps for molluscs or shellfish.

 

After breakfast we set off to explore this place that is often described as totally laid back and hippyish.

Walking along the ramparts we found the entrance to the citadel, this offered good views of the port and its numerous blue wooden fishing boats. These boats are apparently manufactured here and sold throughout Morocco and indeed, to some parts of Spain.  They are well known as a sturdy and reliable fishing vessel.

 

There are thousands of squawking seagulls everywhere. As we enter the small port, the gulls are joined by many optimistic cats; neither appears to be fazed by the other, all hoping for a morsel of fish.

An elderly lady was selling a few crabs; the decapods were laid out on a small rug in front of her.

A small stall offered an assortment of molluscs; others sold just one type of fish.

One vendor stood out from the rest with his variety of fish; coloured peppers were dotted about in a successful attempt to enhance the display.

A couple of billboards which offer information are written in Arabic, French and Hebrew, a clue perhaps, to the origin of the inhabitants of Essaouira.

A small area of the port has a few plastic tables and chairs set up close to a barbecue.  Nearby, a couple of kiosks sell portions of fresh fish and seafood that can be popped on the grill and then eaten in the small seating area.

Lying just off the coast and buffering the port from the Atlantic are the Iles Purpuraires-the Purple Isles.

Purple dye was once produced on the islands; it was extracted from the murex mollusc, a small sea snail that clung to the rocks around the islands.

The largest of the islands is Mogador Island.

Stopping for coffee adjacent to the busy beach, the waiter tells us that although Morocco is an Islam country; their working week is Monday to Friday.  That explains why the beach it so busy, as it is Sunday today.

The beach is perfect, it is clean and wide and, well, it goes on for as far as the eye can see. Many young men and lads are playing footie, the corners of their pitches hastily made from piles of sand, jackets or other items of clothing.

 

 

 

 

 

Some of the matches appear to be quite serious and the teams are wearing brightly coloured kits, others are wearing high vis vests. We watch a game for a while along with other comings and goings. Dave kicked a ball or two back to some kids. A couple of mounted police are patrolling along the beach.

Everyone is having great fun, periodically there is a pile of pushbikes laid on the sand, and their owners are walking or surfing or joining in one of the other pastimes.

One big group of young folk had divided themselves into two teams.  They had placed two hula hoops in the sand.  Two teams of two set off with a plastic disposable cup held tightly between their foreheads, they then had to race the opposing team to a hula hoop, bend down (still holding onto the cup) and then drop the cup inside the hoop. Of course if they dropped the cup too soon they had to start again! There was lots of encouragement with clapping and cheering, and a couple of guys were adding to the fun by tapping a catchy beat on small bongo drums.

Nearby, a small boy was laughing hysterically as he ran pulling a string attached to a large plastic bag behind him.

 

 

 

 

 

Further along the beach there are lots of camels, their owners offering rides; horses can be ridden too.  Quad bikes are also available for rent; a few folk are driving them over the sand dunes. It’s such a lovely long wide clean beach and everyone is having fun and enjoying their day off.

 

 

 

 

 

We’ve been watching the kite surfing; in fact we almost walked into the cords of a surfer as she was taking instruction.

Another novice was sat on the sand, tightly holding onto the cord and moving the control, while listening attentively to her instructor. In turn, he was holding onto her harness to ensure she didn’t take off!

The wind often blows strongly off the Atlantic, but today it is just breezy, we are so lucky to be here experiencing what the locals do in their spare time!

Well, we did say that our final destination of our time in Morocco would be a more relaxing time as there isn’t the list of architecture to see.  So, we are now sat in a beachfront bar on bright yellow and cream striped deckchairs watching the world go by.  And we have beers!

This is only the second time that we have been offered beers.  Ah, perhaps not, in Fez there were a few places that offered alcohol.  But, one had to eat their meal sat in a gloomy room at the back of the eatery, out of view as apparently, although it is legal, it is frowned upon. So, we didn’t bother, preferring to eat our meals where we could watch the world go by.  But here, beers along with other alcoholic beverages are actually on the menu.

This bar has everything!  Apart from the interesting view, it has clean toilets with loo roll, soap, and paper towels!!

Later, we slowly wandered back along the beach, once more watching all the activities.

The group that had been playing the game with the plastic cup were now seated quietly in a large circle on the sand.

One of the young ladies was speaking to the group and periodically the rest of the group were applauding her.

Sat in another beach front cafe, we ate a late lunch, a cheese Panini for me and a seafood pasta for Dave, accompanied with a half bottle of rose wine that was produced and bottled in Meknes.

As we walked back towards the riad, the shops that were built into the ramparts were now open, their colourful products spilling out onto the pavements and displayed on the ramparts’ walls.  A shop caught our eye that sold carved wooden items and we purchased a Hand of  Fatima handcrafted from the endemic thuya wood.

Heading back out again about 6ish we explored a little more of the town, its large open square and alleyways with their numerous snack bars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The large group of young folk that we saw on the beach this morning were still together, they were singing and skipping and dancing to the beats of the bongo drums.  There were so many lovely smiling happy faces, what a fun day they were having.  I wondered if they meet up every Sunday or if they are perhaps on a day trip here.

There were lots of folk, ourselves included, gathering along the ramparts watching the sun set into the Atlantic Ocean. It was extremely blustery and noisy with the thousands of squawking sea gulls drowning out the couple of buskers that appeared to be miming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Starting to glance at some of the menus as we passed the many eateries; we tried to recall the words for each type of meat. A few days ago we had asked one of the guys who was trying to entice us inside his cafe what type of meat ‘dinde’ was.  “Chicken” he replied. No, no “poulet” is chicken I said.

He then tapped on his leg and said “poulet” then on his chest and said “dinde”.

Another guy had told us that it was turkey which we believe is correct. But we thought that we would ask again to be on the safe side, however, this time we were told “hamburger”, when we pointed to the word on the board that we knew to be hamburger, he guessed again, this time saying “lamb”.

Asking a similar question at another place, we were told chicken.  “Is it a big chicken?” Dave asked. “Yes” the young chap said and opened his arms to show how big it was.  It really was a big one!!  “Ah, we call it turkey” I said, in an attempt to help.

Now, we are sat in a lovely French restaurant.  Three locals have just walked in, shaking hands with the waiter, it’s a sure sign we are in for good food if the place is frequented by locals.

Like ourselves, the local men sat in a small enclosed dining area at the back of the eatery which is traditionally decorated; it has an impressive cedarwood ceiling and patterned stucco on the walls.

Dave and I both ordered escalope of ‘big chicken’ served with a mustard sauce.  The ‘dinde’ was also available with an Anglaise sauce, although English, we have no idea what this sauce is, “unless it’s tomato sauce” I quipped.  The waiter did try to enlighten us but we didn’t understand his explanation.

A framed poster on a wall stated that the place was ‘Routard’ recommended; the French travel guide is generally highly regarded and does not give its approval lightly.

Our meal was delicious, served with our usual soft drinks order of a coke and a tonic, in this mainly non alcoholic country.  The bill’s total was 92 MAD, at today’s rate 9.20 euro, probably the best value meal we have had in Morocco.

Heading back to the riad, we wandered slowly returning by a different route.

 

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