My Day in Essaouria: An Essay by Scott Eisenhardt

As promised, today's entry is a guest entry from Scotty. We split up for a good portion of the day while in Essaouria, and you all should be grateful that you're getting Scotty's version of the day, since my sightseeing has now fully degenerated into petting stray cats and gazing at the ocean. Also, I bought stamps at the post office.


Anne and I spent about four days trying to figure out how to pronounce the name of this town, and by Wednesday, we were ready. Essaouira is a town of about 60,000 on the coast. It was a portuguese fortress and trading post through most of the 18th and 19th century, but dates back to the Phoenicians in 7th century BC who sourced purple dye from a mollusk, the murex. By the early 20th century it was reclaimed by the french and since then has been mostly a fishing village. The vestigial walls still give the town its unique charm. Tourism has started to take hold in the last few years, but for the most part it remains a laid back port with friendly locals -- juxtapose to the chaos of Marrakech. There are a lot of day tours here out of Marrakech, but for the most part these people stay to the square, main shopping streets, and a section of the ramparts, a broad wall that surrounds the city. Outside these areas, there are a maze of narrow streets and a fishing port, that is mostly locals and a few curious tourists.

View from our hotel at breakfast

Street in the medina

The day started by exploring the street paralleling the ocean wall. Smells of the ocean would waft in while perusing the paintings, rugs, bags, pottery. I bought another scarf, and for some reason I decided to buy another knitted hat -- even though I have five already. At 2 dollars, there really isn't a down side.


Most towns have a "picture". For Marrakech, it was the Djeema el-Fna square. In Chefchaouen, it's this one blue building. In Essaouira it's a picture of the fortress wall.

I brought my pipe, and smoked while watching a man fish, and three moroccans play with their ocean-soaked puppy. As anyone who has spent a significant time around lakes knows, there's something special about water. And it was nice to be by it again after our days land-locked.


The fisherman's wharf is at the end of a peninsula. Essaouira has always been been a big fishing port as well as a trading port, and the seagulls would agree that fishing is still a big industry here. 

Top of picture - boats. Bottom - seagull, one of 5000.

I got an impromptu tour in french of their boat building yards. The boat farthest left is for catching squid, the one in the middle is for sardines. One boat takes five people one year to build, and most of the materials used are domestic. 

My tour guide explained a lot of other assumably interesting things about the boat building process. As I don't speak any French, I don't know what they were, but an understanding sounding "oh" kept things going.


The main square connects the wharf and the medina (walled-in). It was hard to resist this overpriced restaurant with a view of the square. Order anything you want, but it must have seafood in it, or you're a fool. 

Fresh fish tangine, Flag!

And surprisingly for a muslim country, Morocco actually has a brewery. Flag, in Casablanca.


Essaouira, having been under the control of foreigners for such a long time, is a beautiful identity crisis. I like this picture because it shows the western and arab presence. Blue and white is a typical european/andalusian color scheme, whereas green is typical of the muslim world. 

Nothing is more beautiful than shody upkeep in an old city. Also, everything rusts in this ocean town. If you can't keep the frame of your bike from rusting, how is one to manage the chain?

Another thing I really like about moroccan building methods is that it seems very seat-of-the-pants. Walls are wherever the builder felt convenient, and I don't think that a chalk line, square, or level was ever used. And walkways may or may not be to code at only 5 feet tall. 

Touring the ramparts brought back the memories of an old time when cities had to protect themselves. These cannon's have been inactive for centuries, but who knows when things will change again? I'd really like it if my town would take the threat of attack more seriously, but the city councilmen in Milwaukee don't take proposals for cannons near the art museum seriously.

Next we're headed to Grenada. It will be especially interesting to see that side of the archetecture, since there has always been a push and pull between the arab world and european on both sides of Gibraltor. A lot of mixing goes on, and this can be seen in the design of buildings. The Alhambra is an example of arab-style archecture when the Moors occupied Spain.


Cheers, 
Scotty