Monday 9th March 2020

Essaouira – Sidi Kaouki

Today we have decided to go to Sidi Kaouki, a small place about 22 kilometers away.  According to an article we read if one takes the road out of the village and reaches the river, one can often see wild flamingos during the winter months.  Well, it is winter, so we thought we would give it a try.  Neither of us has seen wild flamingos before.

While finishing our tasty and filling Moroccan breakfast and simultaneously enjoying the view of the crashing waves below, I looked at my watch and realised that we had time to go for the 9.15am bus instead of the later one as originally planned.

So, we set off and walked down to Bab Doukkala, one of the city’s historic landmarks.  Just outside the imposing gate is the bus terminal.  There were a few buses but not the No. 2 which we needed.

A grand taxi driver was waving frantically at us attempting to catch our attention so we wandered over and told him that we didn’t need a taxi as we were getting the bus.  “No, no” he said shaking his head, he said that the buses to our required destination no longer left from the terminus and that we would have to go somewhere else to catch it and that the next one wasn’t until 12.30pm.  “Ok”, we responded walking away and laughing, we knew he was just trying to get a fare.

Checking my notes, I had written that the bus actually departed at 9am so we then assumed that we had missed the bus and decided to walk to the Supratours office to purchase the tickets for our onward journey tomorrow.

Dave suggested that we walk outside the medina, alongside the walls for a change, well, I’m glad he did.   Seeing another bus, I joked “Maybe this is the No.2”; Dave looked and said “Guess what, it is!”

It soon became apparent that the bus was late departing due to a mechanic being required as the rear door wouldn’t close.  “So, the taxi driver was a fibbing touareg, just as we thought”, we laughed.

Boarding the almost full bus and paying a small fraction of the cost that the taxi guy had quoted us, we managed to find two seats at the rear of the bus.  The seats were covered with cardboard which I removed as the seats themselves were a little cleaner, although cracked and holey.  I hoped we didn’t fall through them!

We were hoping to see goats climbing in the argan trees and of course wild flamingos at Sidi Kaouki.

A busker got on the bus and played his tambourine for a couple of minutes, unfortunately no one donated any cash.  Dave must have thought he was really bad as usually he gives to buskers but he wouldn’t part with the coins that I knew he had in his pocket!

A young guy seated directly in front of us had been reserving the seat next to him with two bags.  He moved the bags as a young woman joined him and they leaked blood onto the seat and between the seats dripping onto Dave’s sock and shoe, ugh!

“I hope it’s just meat in there and not a human limb” I whispered to Dave.  The female seemed unfazed, almost as if it was a daily occurrence, wiping the blood off her skirt and tossing the bloodied tissues onto the floor of the bus.

Starting to laugh at the incident, the folk in the adjacent seats started to laugh too, and nodded and smiled at us, some revealing big toothless grins. They are such lovely friendly folk.  Another couple of tourists were sat at the front of the bus, missing the fun and the interaction with the locals.

Later in the day, we saw the couple in a small cafe where we stopped for coffee, the woman was making tiny meatballs (no doubt from the dripping meat) and the young man was serving and running errands.

By the time the bus departed, it was heaving. Lots of folk got on at the last minute, they must have been waiting on the pavement till the door was fixed instead of sitting on the uncomfortable vibrating bus.

Another toothless chap got on the bus, greeted the guy across the aisle from us and perched on the edge of his seat; his acquaintance put his arm around him holding him on.  A young chap somehow managed to squeeze on with his kite surf, Sidi Kaouki is known for good surfing as is Essaouira.

Heading out of town, the bus passed the beach which was very quiet.  Clearly, yesterday had been the best day for us to experience all the fun the locals enjoyed on their day off.

A few minutes later, a guy got on, together with a large bucket and spade.  Later, he descended from the bus close to a sign which pointed to, ‘A Drinking Water Site’.  We watched him walk down the long, hot and dusty road carrying his implements.

There were wind turbines along the journey, the first ones that we have noticed during our travels here in Morocco.  Solar panels have been few and far between too which has surprised us in a country with so much sunshine.

As soon as we arrived in Sidi Kaouki we noticed the building on the beach which is a mausoleum for a marabout (holy man).

The small town is named after the marabout and pilgrims still visit the site today.

Dave climbed the stairs to the first floor terrace but its wooden door was locked.

Walking out of the village to find the river, we passed some modern holiday homes and apartotels.  Modern new residences overlooked the beautiful long and wide beach.  Horses and camels were being led on to the sand but there were only a handful of people about.

The windswept town is popular with surfers; we passed a couple of camping sites, and quite a few camper vans.

‘Surf Hut’ was the name of a huge truck that is a mobile hotel used no doubt to chase the surf.  An ingenious idea, the top of the vehicle appeared to be a sleeping area and extended outwards, the lower part had a lounge area and an area for storing boards and equipment

Well, we walked quite a considerable way and didn’t come across any sign of a river, stream, lake or any other body of water apart from the ocean of course.  And the only birds we saw were the seagulls.

A chap we had chatted to earlier who was walking along the coast back to Essaouira and knew the area quite well, said he wasn’t aware of any river for at least 25 kilometers in the southerly direction.

It seems like the information was incorrect.  Unfortunately, we have come across quite a few errors in our guidebook, incorrect maps, incorrect titles next to photos etc. I have a list of the errors and will notify the company on our return.  This is a well known guide book which we have always purchased for our travels but perhaps it is time to change.

Retracing our steps, this time walking along the beautiful deserted beach, we enjoyed the sound of the waves and the remoteness.

After having a coffee we returned to the bus stop.  A taxi stopped after just a few minutes and offered us a lift for the same price as the bus fare!  Naturally, we agreed.

The vehicle was actually a private hire travel car, excursion brochures and his meet and greet board for meeting clients at the airport were on the back seat.

At one of the many police checkpoints that exist along the roads, we were flagged down by the ‘Royal Gendarmie’ and the driver had to produce his documents.  All vehicles must slow down when approaching the checkpoints and wait to be waved through.  One of the lanes had spikes across the road to puncture the tyres of any vehicle that attempted to move forward without authorisation.

Arriving back in Essaouira, we walked the long way around to reach the Supratours office to purchase the tickets for our bus journey to Marrakech tomorrow.

Sat in the sunny square for a bit of lunch, a mushroom omelette for me and chicken (poulet!) and chips for Dave, we can hear a busker. He is singing the same three songs over and over; one of them is ‘Shallow’ from the remake of ‘A Star is Born’.  Perhaps, these are the only songs in his repertoire.

There are quite a few beggars around, one blind and deaf man tentatively walking with his red and white stick and carrying a tray of paper tissues to sell.  A lad of around eleven is also attempting to sell the same product.  An amputee, who we gave some cash to last night is pushing himself in his wheelchair. It is quite a sad scene.

Suddenly a guy wearing a bright red hat that looks like it is knotted at the crown of his head appears.  Starting to bellow at the top of his voice, he breaks into a jig bending his knees rapidly and twirling around erratically.  The ‘three song repertoire’ busker has stopped singing and is riveted by the performance of his competitor. The red hatted man has now run out of steam and the singer continues, once more with ‘Shallow’.

After lunch we wandered slowly through the alleys and souks.

The products were interesting and varied, but sadly the streets were deserted of potential customers.

Having promised ourselves a more upmarket restaurant this evening as it is a bit of an anniversary for us, we decided to check out the menu in an Italian Restaurant.  So following a Google map we walked along the ramparts and the promenade and then took a left into the small streets filled with various residences, hotels and businesses.

The restaurant was closed and there was no menu outside so we had to either return later or choose somewhere else.  Heading back to the riad through the alleys, we stopped to peruse one or two menus and made our choice. A couple of touts were stood outside other eateries, so we glanced at their menus too as they pushed their promotional leaflets into our hands.

As we returned to the riad, we took a couple of pictures of the Riad Mimouna’s entrance.

Later, we headed out again, admiring the architecture of the medina’s doorways as we meandered.  Dave took quite a few photographs.

After a coffee in the large square, we walked the short distance to the ramparts to watch the sunset.  A busker seated on a bench was singing ‘Strawberry Fair’.

Joining the throngs of people close to the sea walls we stood and watched the sun go down until it dipped into the Atlantic Ocean.

Le Licerne is the name of the restaurant that we chose for our final evening meal in Essaouira.  The menu was varied and included the typical tagines and some different ones like the one that caught my eye, beef with figs, plums and apricots.

However, I changed my mind as I thought that perhaps it would be a little sweet.  Dave ordered a harissa soup to start and beef fillet with a cream sauce and sauté potatoes for main.  I chose escalope of chicken with a mushroom and wine sauce which was served with rice. Also, we chose a gris wine, a very light rose wine which is made with red grapes and produced in Meknes.

The decor of the restaurant was lovely with heavy dark wooden furniture and traditional lamps giving a subdued lighting.  The walls were covered with an array of fabulous artwork; the paintings portrayed wild animals, a belly dancer and an acrobat that looked like she was really moving.

Well, we thoroughly enjoyed the food and the ambience of the restaurant so if ever you find yourself in Essaouira, give it a whirl!

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