The port town of Essaouira, originally Mogador, is well worth a visit, if only to get a break from the big cities and persistent vendors. One of the main roads towards the center of town travels along the coastline and beachfront. Rolling aqua blue waves crash against the white, sandy beach and camels line up a few yards from the surf, ready to take tourists for a ride. That’s right, camels! I heard a few locals refer to them as “city camels” because they’ve never been to the desert.
Beach front restaurants also dot the boardwalk, placing chairs and colorful umbrellas out to entice passersby with fresh fish of the day.
While you can not drive in to the city center, the medina, you can drive alongside it to get to the old fort and fish market. Some Game of Thrones fans will recognize parts of the fort, Borj El Barmil, from various scenes in the series.
If you are willing to wake up a little early, check out the fish market! It’s hard to describe the smell of the market, some combination of rotting vegetation and avian droppings may be the closest, but the activity and sights are wondrous. Fisherman drift in with their fresh catch of the day, dividing out the fish spoken for, restaurants and families, from the fish for purchase on ice. The old, wooden fishing boats, a vibrant blue, pop against the grey backdrop.
Of course, if you don’t want the hassle of haggling over price and cooking your own fish, there are stalls within the medina walls, loaded with fresh fish you can pick from and they will cook it for you!
The assortment of items for sale was a little different than the other medinas I visited; here I saw a ton of colorful, wool knit caps and lots of artisan galleries. I also bought my very first kaftan! Cities like Marrakesh will have a larger selection of kaftans and sometimes lower prices, but I enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere of Essaouira; I was able to look at items on display without someone appearing from nowhere and insisting that I buy it right there, best price in the medina, etc etc.
In addition, Essaouira is known for its Gnaoua (or Gnawa) music and the Gnaoua Music Festival held there each year. Brought to Morocco by enslaved West Africans, the Gnaoua music is made up of a combination of guembri (3-stringed sort of bass), hand claps, cymbal-like castanets, and drums. The music is believed to have healing powers; it was originally used in ceremonies to heal a sick person. Now, the music is predominantly for entertainment, and is even mixed with other musical styles to create new sounds.
I also had my most interesting, and at the time, alarming, interactions in Essaouira walking back to my hotel after dinner one evening. I was accompanied by two other ladies, and we were headed to a Mediterranean themed restaurant two blocks from the hotel. It was still early in the evening, and quite light outside. But that did not stop one of the local fellas from walking with us up the street. He was saying something to us, I have no idea what; But I’m sure I could guess, as he continued a sort of running commentary. At some point further up the street our running commentator must have caught sight of a friend, calling out to him and together they merged, continuing the commentary. Thankfully, we were steps away from the restaurant, and were able to escape our trailing “admirers.” Mind you, we were all very conservatively dressed; no snug fitting clothes, tunic style shirts that covered our backside, legs and arms covered, and scarves wrapped around our necks. Trust me, there was nothing to see!
On our way back to the hotel after dinner, we barely made it past the restaurant’s threshold before a man across the street spotted us and made a beeline in our direction. We quickened our pace and he followed behind us, slurring his words and singing jubilantly. Fortunately, once we made it to the end of the block, he trailed off. While I now realize he was probably just a harmless, drunken man, serenading anyone within earshot, it didn’t feel like that in the moment. After all, what could make you feel safer than a man following you down the street, shouting to you in a foreign tongue? It was kind of surprising as well; I’ve heard about women being followed by local men in the cities, but not so much in smaller towns like Essaouira.