November 4, 2018

November 4, 2018

Today we took an all day tour to the city of Essaouira. It is almost a three hour drive straight west. The terrain looks flat but it is hard to tell as fog covers our route most of the way. Eventually the fog burns off and we see dry rolling hills with scattered trees. At one point we pull off the road because a couple of the trees have goats in them. Looking around the dry environment there is precious little grass to eat and the goats improvise by climbing Argan trees to reach the fleshy fruit.

Nearby we stop at an Argan oil artisanal factory to learn more about this tree the goats climb. The Argan tree resembles an olive tree, but with slightly bigger fruit. In this factory women strip the pulp away, then crack the seed on a rock to reveal the kernel. These kernels are roasted and ground to release the Argan oil. This rare oil can be eaten but it is mostly used for cosmetics. We sample some. While tasty it is not worth the hefty price caused by the labor-intensive production process.

In Essaouira, we take an hour guided walk of this World Heritage city. While the inland cities are older and molded by their connection to the Sahara caravan routes, the coastal cities were strongly influenced by Europeans sailing around the coastline. Essaouira, originally called Mogador, was first used as a trading post by the Phoenicians and Romans who collected a tidal shellfish found in the local area. The colorant extracted gave name to the word ‘Purple’ and was used to dye the stripe of Roman Senator togas.

In 1506, the Portuguese built a fortress at the harbor to supply their voyages down the African coast. Essaouira, today is a fishing village with hundreds of small fisherman chasing sardines. All the small boats are painted blue so as not to scare the fish away. The defensive works have been used as a film location for another Game of Thrones city.

After the tour, Aimee and I explored the ‘old’ Medina. Some of the souk shops are tucked in niches in the fortress and between walls, but most are in the encircled village. It is not a maze like the ancient Medinas of Fez and Marrakech, but rather a well-planned street grid. The vendors are also nowhere near as persistent as their inland brethren. Aimee finds some fabric she can’t do without. We then have a late lunch on a terrace restaurant overlooking the city.

On the drive back we get lucky and stumble upon a Fantasia Exhibition. This is a Moroccan Festival that travels around the country. It features dozens of horsemen in traditional costume who roar across an arena en-masse firing very loud black-powder muskets at the end. This is what I envision an Arabic cavalry charge would have been like in the days of Lawrence of Arabia. We stop long enough to watch four 'skirmishes'.