Essaouira

After returning the car to the agent in Tiznit, Yves and I headed to the dreaded Grand Taxi rank to find a shared ride to Agadir. From there we would find another grand taxi going to Essaouira. Yves only wanted to go half way to Essaouira (say Esweera), because his hike would take him along the Atlantic coast the rest of the way to that tourist hot spot. I was going all the way. We quickly hopped in the front seat in order to have a bit more space than when crammed into the back seat. Remember, these so-called Grand Taxis leave when they have six passengers - two in the front and four in the back, in a car that is really meant to hold a maximum of 4 passengers. You can forget about seat belts and window cranks, which have been removed in order to create a little more room for passengers. The driver has one which gets passed around according to the needs of the passengers.

So, it was somewhere along the highway between Agadir and Essaouira that Yves and I parted company, agreeing to keep in touch, and possibly meet up in Essaouira, where he expected to arrive in 3 or 4 days. He had an 8 km walk down a side road to get to the coast, and just missed a ride going that way, which the taxi driver tried in vain to flag down for him. The sky was looking variable with dark clouds and sunny breaks…

About another hour with the front seat to myself (luxury!) put me in Essaouira, and as expected I was immediately approached by someone offering accommodation. As usual “tranquille” was the operative descriptor. Since I had no reservation, I agreed to have a look at it, on my way to one of the hotels suggested in the Lonely Planet. Once again the medina seemed impossible to navigate and I had no idea where I was when we got to the riad. It was swell enough and not too expensive so I decided that I would settle in for a few days. Then off I went to get lost and explore the medina.

There is a section in fortification walls separating the medina from the sea where there is a wide ramp up to the ramparts. If you have seen the Orson Wells film version of Othello, you will know this spot because he used it in the opening scene for a panoramic shot where Iago is suspended in a cage above the rocks and sea. It really is a spot with tons of style, and I can imagine how Mr Wells would see it as a perfect location. Not having seen the movie myself yet, I am now determined to when I have access to a dvd player again. While he was in the vicinity he filmed another scene in the town north of here, called El-Jadida, which I went to a few days later.

Essaouira is another surfer destination, although technically speaking the waves aren’t all that good, I guess. There are beaches nearby which offer better quality waves. There are tons of tourists here, most of whom certainly don’t look like surfers though. Mind you the water was very turbulent and full of stirred up mud, perhaps a seasonal condition that improves later in the year. The beach is very, very wide with not too much of a slope, and serves the local lads as multiple soccer pitches at low tide. Sunday seemed to be league soccer day, as there must have been at least 20 games in progress, with what seemed to me a high degree of expertise in ball handling skills. Soccer is played everywhere in Morocco, and rarely with the advantage of a proper pitch or even a proper soccer ball. Kids are always at it, sometimes even the young girls get to take part, down any street or alleyway, with whatever substitutes for a ball. And of course, the t.v. stations are always tuned to the game, if not the imam.

There are thousands of small shops offering all manner of Moroccan handicrafts. There isn’t too much hassling from the vendors, but there are always a same few who can’t resist pestering tourists. A lot of what is for sale is of fairly high quality, and there seems to be a lot of variety of styles and colours in any given item. Leather goods, wood furniture, metal work, clothing, et cetera.

There are a lot of restaurants as well, all offering the exact same fare that is offered all over Morocco, no better/no worse. It’s the standard couscous, tagine, kefta, rotisserie chicken, salads, fried fish, and often hamburgers for those who crave. Frankly, it’s all pretty boring food, and I have only eaten one couscous that I found to be tasty and well prepared. Mostly, tagines and couscous consist of overcooked vegetables and/or meat with very little spicing. I’ve had ‘way better at home with certain friends (you know who you are!). And the harira (Moroccan soup) is awful. Cheap but awful. Every single bowl that I have had is exactly the

same as the last. I have a much better recipe! Bread is served with everything and is the sold everywhere. And every morning there are piles of day old bread torn up and lying on the sidewalk in a heap. Can someone explain this to me?

Some of the my best bets for food have been salads and fruit smoothies which at least have no starch and provide some minerals and vitamins. The tea is variable, but always sweet, and coffee is generally good.

I was starting to weary of Morocco by the time I reached Essaouira, and after finally having some decent internet chats with my daughter about meeting up in Turkey in May, I decided that it was time for me to head to that country well in advance of her tentative rendezvous with me.

I had pretty much seen what I came to see, and so since I had found a cyber café with a reasonably reliable internet connection, I took advantage of that to search out and book a flight. After a few sessions, I had it figured out - I would fly from Casablanca to Istanbul on March 18/19. With that date now fixed, I planned the remaining days of my time in Morocco to wind up in Casablanca for a couple of days before flying east.