Essence of Essaouira

Salt-swept sun-soaked facades line the dirt paths of Essaouira. The wind at times whispers and at times whips through the streets. Against the white stripped walls are stark shades of blue, young and old, painted on every surface: doors, window panes, awnings, table cloths, chairs, gates, clothes.

Even before the eye falters from the blinding light, the nose takes over. Smells waft from alleyways. On Ave de l'Istiqlal, salty grilled seafood; Rue de la Skala, curries; Place Moulay Hassan, baked sweets. The scents linger like hawkers from the Souks pushing their wares, "Scarves? You like? Nice price. Come, look, see."

The wind dominates conversation, muting sounds other than its own. When the wind stops, the hush of heat reigns.

Essaouira is a beautiful, magical place. A city of cheap seafood, slowed pace of living, wind, and sea. Full of food for the senses. I am in love with the essence of Essaouira.