The drive to Essouira on the coast was easy: good roads made for faster progress. The countryside here starts to show a more commercial side to the agriculture, more tractors, larger fields with crops intended to be sold, rather than kept for home consumption. There were still some very long stretches of dry barren ground though.
We eventually spied the sea – hooray - Essouira is a resort town, people on the beaches on holiday, camel rides on the beach, surfing etc. Many of the women still wear the traditional burkahs on the beach - they come in three types, Factor 30, 25, and 15. Many of the Muslim ladies sport 'Camel eyes' like 'Panda eyes' for skiers - but in negative.
On riding along the beach road, many of Essouira's beach hotels offer massage treatments; we were warned that in some of the cheaper establishments the so-called 'essential oils' are in fact low-grade engine lubricants. So those with sensitive skin or an aversion to being covered in petrochemical by-products should exercise caution.
We had a look around the town for a few hours- the fishing port is well worth a visit, full of life (apart from the fish). It makes a change to see Moroccans working and engaged in activity with some degree of urgency. Lots of different fish seem to being caught, I recognized large eels, a tuna, small sharks and a whole range of smaller fish. As you would expect the restaurants around the port sell mainly seafood, however, one large restaurant 'La Fruit de la Mare' (as the name suggests) sells just horsemeat.
Over the last two hundred years pirates have ransacked the port garrison on no less than sixty occasions, until it was decided to point the cannons out to sea. The cannons are still there- a reminder of the violent past.
On returning to the campsite we dropped in on the part of the beach that offered a range of water sports- surfboards and windsurfers for hire, quad bikes, horses to rent. Camels were being led up and down the beach with tourists perched on top – a bit like Blackpool but slightly more exotic. We plan to return tomorrow.
In the evening we returned to town, looking for a restaurant. Tony was feeling a bit 'off color' so we avoided the seafood and had a wander through the market area that surrounds the main square- much more vibrant than Marrakesh, the street vendors were less aggressive, it had an almost French beach resort vibe – I liked it.
In search of food and live music we were directed to a little restaurant, the three players restored our belief in Moroccan music, churning out a hypnotic beat with a drum, 'three string guitar' and a 'tinny castanet'- sounding definitely 'Africany' they played away while we ate our meal. We emerged from the restaurant at about nine-thirty and the street vendors were shutting up shop- not a late night then.
We looked out for a nightclub to try and catch the local dance performed– the 'Cutasucre' or 'The Cane Cutters dance'. It is an exuberant men's dance performed blindfolded, intoxicated and with machetes, it's complex rhythms clapped out by the dance leader with his one remaining hand, is accompanied by the 'Tubron' a local woodwind instrument producing a sound likened to water going down a narrow drain-hole. Both the 'Cutasucre' and the Tubron have failed to capture the imagination of the youth, and unfortunately this part of the Essouirans cultural heritage will be soon gone forever, as will the 24-hour 'drop in' reconstructive surgery theatres.
Without finding the dance club, we walked back to the quad to return to the truck- I liked the atmosphere here, definitely a tourist feel, but with an edge. The quality of goods on sale was much better, as were the prices. Tomorrow we surf.
*Note – In the interests of continuity and sanity of the writer some of the information given above may have been embellished or may even be 'slightly' false. This account should by no be means seen as the definitive guide to the region.
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