We're on the road to Essaouira
(pronounced Ess-uh-wee-ruh, you have no idea how long it took me to get that
right), a beautiful port city roughly 3 hours drive from Marrakech. Of the
multitude of interesting factoids I’ve heard about Essaouira, the most
important is that several Game of Thrones episodes were filmed there. GAME OF
THRONES!!!
Ok, fan girl moment over. Because of its position along the coast and
relative to Marrakech, it’s been an important port to all manner of kings and
conquerors since its founding, and thus has been kept in relatively good shape.
The route to Essaouira is mostly relatively lifeless desert, but every now and
then you see something cool…
GOATS IN TREES!
So, while we’re
trapped in the car, let me introduce you to someone new:
This seemingly
adorable canine is actually the most annoying creature you’ll ever meet. Imagine
an ADHD inflicted rabbit on speed and you have a less irritatingly energetic
animal than Y. Yes he’s cute, but trust me the cute wears off when he’s been
trying to hump your leg for 3 hours, has bitten you once and has peed on you
twice. At this point in the trip, he was still cute. It was when he tried
to fight a camel that we realized he was truly insane.
After briefly surveilling
the city from above, we retired to the beach, where we enjoyed several hours of
relaxation and delightful conversation with a lovely Canadian teacher, with
brief bouts of saving Y from drowning.
Roughly 3 hours in to
the experience we realized that we had forgotten one crucial element: Sun block.
Thus began the worst sun burn of my adult life. Dazed and groggy from the sun
and the incredible length of time since our last meal, we set off in search of
food, shade and possibly some aspirin. But H had other ideas. Apparently it was
imperative that we see Essaouira’s famous fish market.
So we staggered onward bitching and moaning, following H as he sped frantically through the market, heatedly
bargaining and buying large quantities of every edible (and a few possibly
inedible) fish known to man. Occasionally we held back to step in pools of
rancid fish guts, complain and day dream about fish-free food. But those dreams
would have to wait, because as we were just about to slip into tantrum mode, we
were confronted by a grinning H holding 3 enormous plastic bags, full to the brim
with various unappetizing fish, that we were informed would be our lunch. BUT
FIRST…we had to find someone to cook them.
Fast forward to me and A holding the
impressively heavy, now leaking bags of fish parts as H runs off to find the car
and iceboxes to transport them home. Imagine our horror as H plops each fish
between layers of dirty ice, stopping occasionally to pick fallen specimens
from the sidewalk (where people walk and spit and frequently defecate) and place
them snugly with the others. Now imagine our embarrassment as tourists stop to
watch and take pictures.
Hunger overcomes
mortification and we’re finally on our way food-wards through the medina, to knock
on a little door in an alley that I wouldn’t have otherwise noticed. We’re now
hungry enough that we feel slightly ill, but all there is left to do is hand
over the fish and wait. Which is what we did.
Skepticism aside, the food was
quite tasty and it fortified us for our continued exploration of the city.
Essaouira is charming
and inviting and utterly different from Marrakech. The ocean breeze is
refreshing after the oppressive heat of the city (the rancid fish smell that
permeates everything even reminds me a bit of fisherman’s wharf). The streets
are just as crowded but less frenzied. People yell, trying to sell their goods
but no one touches you or follows you. The ancient walls are crumbling and the
streets are maze but somehow the city feels inviting. The nooks and crannies
give it charm and make it wonderful to photograph.
The view of the sunset from
the ramparts was romantic even to cynic like myself. I sincerely hope to return.
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