11-12 April 2025
We close the door on our comfortable stay at Dar al Hossoun in Taroudant. Leaving the cats and peacock behind, we continue our progress westward.
For the past few months, I have followed an online Moroccan travel group in order to gather tips about travel within Morocco. Consistently, I see the same towns or regions mentioned: Essaouira is one.
I most often note reasons for their visits include spas, medina, and beach. I’m hoping there are other reasons to attract visitors.
Note: Spellcheck insists in correcting my spelling for this city. I struggle to convince that unknown entity to leave my spelling alone. I am constantly correcting spell-check. Essaouira suffers from this schizophrenic confusion. Forgive me if I haven’t caught all the erroneous spellcheck errors.
Scenic Coastal Drive
We travel along the western part of the High Atlas Mountains through miles of brown with the occasional relief of a green oasis or grove. So many tree varieties.
In 2001: A Space Odyssey, David Bowman says, “my God! —it’s full of stars!” Here, I refer to trees instead. There appears to be an endless variety of them; remove the rocks, plant a tree, add water and boom – a green oasis of trees. Oranges, olives, nuts, roses, Argan, pomegranate, apricot…. Bowman’s words seem fittingly profound here in the Atlas Mountains. “My God! —it’s full of trees!”
Our destination across some 55 miles of barren road is Agadir, another city I often see mentioned by Moroccan tourists.
I am greeted by the blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. Also surrounding me are modern white high-rises, golf courses, resorts, restaurants and shopping malls. After spectacular topographical terrain and traditional Moroccan villages, this is a Big Ugh!
We stop at one of the many beachside restaurants for food. Service may be slow but the resident cats are fast on the paw. They enjoy our fish dinner. The warm ocean breeze is welcome.
Across the broad promenade and expanse of sandy beach, sunlight sparkles on the blue Atlantic as its waves crash the shore.
Following lunch, we head north along the coastal road for over 100 miles to reach the small port town of Essaouira where we lodge for two nights. Facing the Atlantic, Essaouira offers so much more than sand and surf.
Coastline and Wildflowers
The coastline of Morocco features wide sandy beaches and rugged cliffs. Waves look as though they are good for surfing. Wind comes out of the southwest about 16 mph with gusts around 26 mph. Good for windsurfing.
Once away from the coast, the hills turn golden, reminiscent of the California coastline. Just replace the oak tree with the Argan tree. No goats here to decorate them. But there is a proliferation of yellow wildflowers with pallets here and there of purple, pink and whites.
Morocco claims over 20 million Argan tree. The government protects the tree and the tree cannot be harmed or cut down. On many, I see the yellow fruit within which is the prized nut of Argan.
Fortress on the Sea
Essaouira is a breezy coastal town where crashing Atlantic waves meet Portuguese ramparts and noisy seagulls circle above. Hundreds of vibrant blue fishing boats crowd a colorful harbor. I am told this city offers some of the best seafood in all of Morocco! Hope that signifies something other than fish.
The busy port is vibrant with blue boats, flags, industrious fishermen bringing in their catch of the day, and opportunistic gulls. The smell is strong, the yelling loud, and the seafood begs to be grilled and on a plate with a chilled glass of wine.
Practically all of Essaouira enjoys a spectacular view of the ocean and its historic city walls and fortresses. However, by far the best views are from atop the old walls. Below, waves angrily crash into the rocks. Cannon at the ready, one can imagine these walls and fortifications were formidable.
These ramparts date to the 16th century when the Portuguese briefly occupied the area, then called Mogador. The main remnants of their presence include the Castelo Real de Mogador, a fortress built in 1506 but abandoned a few years later due to local resistance. Little remains today.
The Skala de la Ville, later expanded by the Alaouite Sultan Sidi Mohammed ben Abdallah in the 18th century, is a seafront bastion influenced by European, including Portuguese, military designs.
The Skala du Port is a fortified harbor area with cannons and ramparts, offering panoramic views of the ocean and the Medina. While Essaouira’s fortifications were mainly shaped by Moroccan rulers and French architects, traces of its Portuguese history remain in its strategic coastal defenses.
Port to Medina to Seafood Grills
No Moroccan town exists without its old Medina. Enclosed by Essaouira’s sturdy ramparts, it features winding streets lined with whitewashed buildings. Bright blue doors and shutters accent the shops. Sea breezes keep temperatures moderate. Of course, there are the artisans who craft woodwork, jewelry, and textiles. Endless shopping opportunities!
Medina offers large sections of fresh products, meats, clothing, crafts, everything one could imagine needing. You just have to find the right alley. Or hope a vender brings his wares to you. The strawberries were ripe and fragrant.
Unlike the chaotic Medinas of larger cities, Essaouira’s appears more relaxed, offering a laid-back bohemian charm with a mix of Moroccan, European, and African influences. It also supports healthy cats.
Our guide informs me this was a favorite spot for the writer/actor, Orson Welles. who spent time in Essaouira while filming his 1951 adaptation of Othello (Welles is probably better known for Citizen Kane).
He shot several scenes here in the medina and along the fortified ramparts. The city later honored him by naming a square after him, Place Orson Welles, and erecting a bust in his memory.
All I could see were high weeds. The Bar Orson Welles remains. He especially enjoyed the seafood, which might explain his subsequent girth.
My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless there are three other people.
Orson Welles
Artisans of Silver and Thuya Wood
Shop known for silver and creation of traditional filigree. Shops are deceiving as there is always a very large room filled with objects to purchase. We do learn how it is accomplished, the creation not the sales.
Thuya wood comes from the Tetraclinis articulata tree, native to Morocco, particularly the Atlas Mountains and Essaouira region. Moroccan artisans have carved it for centuries.
It is a dense, richly grained wood known for its fragrant scent and striking burl patterns. The root is used as is the trunk, each with its own tone and grains. Thuya wood is highly valued for crafting furniture, decorative boxes, and intricate designs.
We visit a local cooperative which specializes in the crafting of thuya wood. Prices vary depending on the item, craftsmanship, and quality of the wood. Small souvenirs like trinket boxes or keychains can cost around $10 to $50, while larger items can range in the hundreds. Prices are generally negotiable in Moroccan markets, especially in Essaouira, where craftsmanship is a specialty.
Of course, after demonstrations and information, we earn a valuable shopping opportunity. Their crafts shop is small, their showroom is huge and chock-a-block crammed with items. They ship. I note prices in the showroom begin considerably higher than those in medina passageways.
Happy Hour or Two
The scent of grilled seafood fills the air. With the bustling harbor and fishermen hauling in their daily catch, it would be a crime not to see some of this on a plater for lunch or dinner.
And, indeed, we are served a large platter of seafood: calamari, shrimp, various fish, sardines and a couple “not sure” pieces. Good prep and taste.
Temperatures are warm, breezes off the Atlantic fresh and cooling. I walk back to the hotel, passing countless cafés along the beaches. Kites soar over the waters and many sunbathers hope for a tan and not a severe burn. My money is on the latter as the sky is clear and the sun bright.
Our lodging’s name, Atlas Essaouira Riad Resort, says it all for this luxurious beachside hotel. I have the afternoon to kick back. I contemplate the views which, most likely, have not changed much since Orson drank and ate here.
If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.
Orson Welles
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