Solo 24 Horas #96.1 Marrakech
Solo 24 Horas #96.2 Marrakech (y valle de Ourika)
Solo 24 Horas #96.3 Essaouira
Solo 24 Horas #96.4 Marrakech Ciudad Imperial

[On the way from Marrakech to Essaouira, with deserts for moving landscapes whilst listening to my iPod in the car.]

Marrakech was a good break. Sometimes you just need something very different to jolt a shock into your system – your thoughts and your emotions. I am so thankful we have what we have in Singapore.

Listening to Desert Song while watching the landscapes of sand and more sand just roll by the passenger seat window brought a whole new depth to the song. It’s like the difference between looking at the horizon or focusing on the circumstances within a rocky boat in a storm.

By Dian Hasan | November 22, 2009

Hotels have long been known for their social roles, and for their ability to continually reinvent themselves to relevant for today’s lifestyle taste. After all, consumer taste seems to change faster than changing bed linens.

In line with the idea of making every inch of the hotel a profit center. First it was the Spa, a permanent fixture in fine hotels today. And now, all eyes are on the best underutilized space: the Rooftop Area!

Here’s a look at how rooftops are rejuvenating hotels across the world. Wether for lounging with cocktail in hand, or pools and spas, launch parties, cool events, film parties… all making their way to the top of the hotel… where it’s Hot, Hip & Happening! And the bright city lights and skyline make for a spectacular backdrop.

Non, Essaouira ne se situe pas dans les îles Canaries mais bien au Maroc à 220 milles (400 km) au sud de Mohammedia. Nous nous abstiendrons dorénavant de faire des pronostics sur nos futures escales. Rien de plus aléatoire, en effet, que l’itinéraire d’un voilier, surtout quand il est mis entre les mains de vagabonds comme nous… Le vent (oui toujours lui…) ne daignant pas souffler suffisamment fort, nous avons décidé de poursuivre nos sauts de puce le long des côtes marocaines. Remarquez qu’une petite brise portante et une mer calme ne sont pas toujours synonyme de lenteur. Avec un peu de magie, on peut même filer à un bon 6 nœuds de moyenne ! Et le tour de passe-passe se nomme ici Spinnaker (« Spi » pour les intimes).

Notre spinnaker gonflé à bloc!

Cet énorme cerf-volant de 65 mètres carrés (à titre de comparaison notre grand voile n’en fait que 18) constitue l’arme absolue par petit temps. Ne s’utilisant que sous allure portante et par faible houle, le spi veut aussi dire faible gîte et quasi absence de tangage. Le bonheur quoi !

Raph fait bronzette sur le passe avant à tête reposée et abritée par le spi.

Mais attention ! Ces petites vacances auront tôt fait de tourner au drame si les manœuvres ne sont pas scrupuleusement respectées, et ce, tout particulièrement au moment de lancer et d’affaler la voile. En effet, étant 5 fois plus fine que la GV, la toile du spi peut se déchirer en un rien de temps. Le surtoilage, qui doit à tout prix être évité en régle général, doit ici faire l’objet d’encore plus d’attention.

À la tombée de la nuit, ayant une certaine avance sur notre planning et préférant une arrivée de jour dans cette anse connue pour ses haut fonds, nous avons réduit la voilure et pousuivi notre route sous les étoiles en oscillant entre 3 et 4 nœuds.

es ist schon recht spät und eigentlich gibt’s nicht wirklich viel zu berichten. ich werd mich also kurz halten. abgesehen davon, dass ich mir auf den letzten drücker in marrakech noch ein netbook gekauft hab (mit frz./arab. tastatur!! ha! das soll mir mal wer nachmachen in österreich gg), damit ich nicht ständig die zwei jungs um an laptop betteln muss,… ist eigentlich nix passiert. jetzt bin ich wieder independent!

bis gestern waren wir in essaouira – bekannt für die surfer, bekannt für den wind. wind, den wir nach zwei stunden nicht mehr ausstehen konnten. sand: überall. kalt: am ganzen körper. duschen war voll der geldrausschmiss, weil nach 5 sek im freien warst wieder von oben bis unten, in jeder pore egal ob ober oder unter der kleidung, in jeder einzelnen haarsträne (ach gott war das kämmen angenehm): dreckig. staubig. sandig. that’s fun. ja, das war soooo lustig, dass wir genau zwei nächte blieben sind. zwei nächte, die noch dazu unerträglich laut waren. wohnmobile (wie traktoren, wenn sie fahren), wind (solche böen können ganz schön schlafraubend sein.. believe me!), katzen (die dummen viecher haben sich AUF das innenzelt gekrallt.. neeeeein, das macht das zelt überhaupt nicht kaputt…) und natürlich die obligatorischen kläffenden, streunenden hunde. die kreieren das tüpfelchen auf dem i.

der zweite tag in dieser wunderbaren stadt (also die city an sich ist ja echt süß, bitte nicht falsch verstehen!) wurde mit shoppen gefüllt. ABER es wurde erstens nur wenig gekauft und zweitens zeugsl, das kaum was wiegt wie meine echt-silber-mit-berber-symbol-versehenen-ohrringe oder meine aus plastik fabrizierte umhängetasche…, welche liebevoll „die mülltasche“ genannt wird.

heute ging’s dann weiter nach agadir, dort cocktailbar gesucht und nach ewigem spaziergang und umso kürzerer taxifahrt auch gefunden. tequila sunrise musste mal wieder her und bei 5 euro sag ich halt auch nicht nein :ppp.

agadir ist nur ein zwischenstopp, hier gibt’s, außer touristen, nicht allzu viel zu sehen… und wir müssen endlich in den süden – der daniel hat grad heut die letzten zehn tage autoversicherung abgeschlossen (bei axa), nach ablauf dieser frist müssen wir in mauretanien sein und ne neue abschließen (aber wird für ganz westafrika gültig sein…)

Quando si avvicina la stagione fredda non avete più tanta voglia di mangiare pesce?

Le orgie di orate, code di rospo, canocchie, calamari e cozze alla marinara di quest’ estate vi perseguitano negli incubi notturni, e non ne volete sapere fino alla primavera prossima?

Non fate così!!!

Per tutto c’è una soluzione, e non deve essere il solito baccalà alla vicentina, anche se, solo a pronunciarlo mi viene una fame…

Soprassediamo, e passiamo al dunque.

Vi assicuro che uno dei pesci più adatti alle giornate grigie, mentre fuori piove o nevica, è la Murena.

Al contrario di ciò che adesso vi verrà da pensare, le murene sono di facile reperibilità, e il vostro poissonnier di fiducia ve le procura in quattro e quattr’otto!

Se poi abitate vicino al mare, le trovate al mercato, come questa che ho visto ad Essaouira l’anno scorso:

Adesso che l’avete procurata, cosa ne facciamo?

Ah, dimenticavo, non prendetela troppo grossa, perchè come tutti i pesci carnivori, anche la murena, quando diventa grande tende ad accumulare Ciguatera…che se ingerita vi potrebbe causare una percezione opposta di caldo e freddo per alcuni mesi…(magari in inverno non è neanche male )

Ora dovete sbatterla ben forte tenendola per la testa, in questo modo le ossa, che sono mobili, andranno tutte verso la coda, che potrete poi tagliare via.

Adesso la potete tagliare a pezzi, diciamo larghi 10 cm, e prepararla secondo i vostri gusti.

Per esempio, in una casseruola, salata e pepata, con ginger, galanga, aglio, prezzemolo, uvetta, pinoli e mandorle.

Ovviamente è buona pure alla griglia…ma d’inverno…

In Portogallo viene venduta secca, al mercato:

Se la trovate così, dovete tagliarla a pezzetti, che friggerete in padella con aglio e spezie a piacere.

Ed ora per l’angolo della cultura una ricetta della Roma antica tramandata da Ilaria Gozzini in “A Taste Of Ancient Rome”:

Murena in salsa all’aceto
1 murena, pulita e affettata
1 cucchiaio di miele
2 cucchiai di aceto
1 cucchiaio di vino
2 cucchiai di Garum
1 cucchiao di olio d’oliva
2 cucchiai di pepe ed erbe aromatiche
1 cucchiao di farina

Ed una citazione da Orazio, Satire, secondo libro:

his mixtum ius est: oleo, quod prima Venafri
pressit cella; garo de sucis piscis Hiberi;
vino quinquenni, verum citra mare nato,
dum coquitur (cocto Chium sic convenit, ut non
hoc magis ullum aliud); pipere albo, non sine aceto,
quod Methymnaeam vitio mutaverit uvam.
erucas viridis, inulas ego primus amaras
monstravi incoquere. inlutos Curtillus echinos,
ut melius muria quod testa marina remittat.

Buon appetito!

Barcas en el puerto

Se llama Essaouira: Esauira en español, antiguamente Mogadur, la eterna perla del Atlántico, la Bella durmiente y para la UNESCO, Patrimonio de la Humanidad, una ciudad perdida en el tiempo en la puerta del Mediterráneo.

Esta ciudad blanca y azul está en la costa occidental del Atlántico en Marruecos, en la región de Marrakech-Tensift-El Haouz. Soplan vientos fuertes todo el año y se celebra un festival de música anual mejor conocido como el “Woodstock de Marruecos”. Se dice que Bob Marley y Jimmy Hendrix pasaron largas temporadas por aquí.

Ubicación del puerto Essaouira

El puerto de Essaouira, antaño gran centro de comercio y refugio de piratas, es rústico como buen puerto antiguo. Parece que el color oficial de las barcas es el azul, igual que el de los adornos contra el blanco puro de las casas y el azul del Atlántico africano.

Detalles del puerto

Essaouira

“Non dovresti conoscere la disperazione
se le stelle scintillano ogni notte;
se la rugiada scende silenziosa a sera
e il sole indora il mattino.

Non dovresti conoscere la disperazione, seppure
le lacrime scorrano a fiumi:
non sono gli anni più amati
per sempre presso il tuo cuore?

Piangono, tu piangi, così deve essere;
il vento sospira dei tuoi sospiri,
e dall’inverno cadono lacrime di neve
là dove giacciono le foglie d’autunno;

pure, presto rinascono, e il tuo destino
dal loro non può separarsi:
continua il tuo viaggio, se non con gioia,
pure, mai con disperazione!”

(Emily Brontë)

Un sorriso,

m.

E’ aperta la prima sezione dedicata alle Escursioni che ho fatto in Marocco.
Questa è l’ultima in ordine di tempo, di odore e sapore completamente diverso dalla più famosa Marrakech, Essaouira è una candida cittadina di mare dai colori bianchi e blu.

Sono state pessime le condizioni in cui l’organizzazione Valtur ci ha fatto fare quest’escursione, l’ho soprannominata per “podisti”, poiché è stato solo un perenne correre per arrivare nei luoghi/negozi in cui la guida aveva la provvigione.
Nonostante mi fossi messa alla fine della fila dietro a una ragazza che aveva problemi ad una gamba ed andava in giro con le stampelle, lo stesso correvi senza riuscire a fermarti un attimo per vedere cosa ti circondava, se poi ti permettevi nel tempo “libero” che ti avevano imposto di arrivare in ritardo all’appuntamento, perché finalmente stavi visitando per conto tuo un po’ la cittadina o cercando un bagno (visto che non c’è stata alcuna sosta durante tutto il viaggio di ritorno), come se non bastasse ti beccavi pure delle ramanzine infinite a microfono dalla guida che maleducatamente ti accusava di non essere dei bravi viaggiatori.
Qual è il decalogo del bravo viaggiatore secondo loro? “paghi l’escursione, paghi in tutti i negozi in cui prendiamo la provigione, corri e non ti fermi da nessuna parte durante il tragitto perché il tempo lo devi perdere nei negozi suddetti e i soldi anche, non vedi nulla, ubbidisci e stai zitto!”. Ti è piaciuta la gita? Sorridi sei in vacanza!

Quindi spero che comprendiate la difficoltà di fare foto a fuoco, poiché non si aveva il tempo prima di guardare e poi scattare, clikkavo a raffica e basta, oltre a godermi appieno solo ora per la prima volta con voi Essaouira.

Ma, nonostante l’organizzazione, ecco a voi tutte le foto di quei luoghi, ecco il perché andare in Marocco, ecco il perché ritornarci, ecco il perché innamorarsi di questi luoghi.

Essaouira

Yup, I don’t post for almost two weeks and now here I go with two posts in two days. Confusing, eh? But 1) I now have the time and 2) I have some inspiration for today’s post from The Accidental Mommy, whose “Too True Tuesday” assignment this week is to write about the worst gift you ever received.

The first gift that came to mind was a wedding gift. It was a pepper shaker. Just a pepper shaker. No matching salt shaker in the box. Just ONE. PEPPER. SHAKER. I mean, really? Who does that? Was that person really that cheap? Or did they just think that we were so inundated with salt shakers we couldn’t possibly need the match for the pepper? It couldn’t have cost more than $15-$20. I kind of felt like the giver was sending me some kind of message: “You are better off alone.” “You don’t need each other.”

But my all-time best, worst-gift story happened when I was traveling in Morocco with my best friend Renee in 2001 (See: My Life as Thelma for a better understanding of our crazy travel experiences). We had just spent an amazing week in the seaside town of Essaouira and were reluctantly pulling ourselves away from the magical place to continue on our journey. Renee, who had fallen in love with the most gorgeous man we had ever seen in our lives (we had nicknamed him “King Babe.” Who knew the most beautiful man in the world was living in Morocco?), was especially sad to be leaving.

So here we were, moping at a bus station, when two young Moroccan men started flirting with us. Even though we were not in the mood, they would not leave us alone. They wanted us to come back to their mother’s house so she could make us food – not an unusual invitation in this part of the world. When we kept refusing, they finally offered us some gifts to remember them by. The build-up was intense. They talked about the gifts like they were a family heirloom or a gift from King Mohammed VI  himself. The men brought us to where their bags were, dug around inside, and then told us to hold out our hands and close our eyes. When we opened our eyes, this is what we saw sitting in the palm of our hands: a cheap silver bracelet and, best of all, gold-colored toe-nail clippers. TOENAIL CLIPPERS!

Renee and I took one look at was lying in our hands, and then each other, and tried our best to suppress the laughter that was bubbling up inside us. Were they really serious? we wondered. One look and we knew – yes, they most definitely were.

We never went back to the boys’ house, but man, those toenail clippers provided us with countless hours of laughter. Like a garden gnome, we took photos of those clippers at every new destination – with us at the ferry stop in Tangier, sitting in a cafe in Barcelona, at a beach in Tunisia.

And you know what? I still have them. And the bracelet. And the pepper shaker. Every time I look at any one of them, I have a good laugh. So maybe they weren’t that bad of gifts after all.

When it comes to holiday in Morocco, we immediately think of Marrakech, riads and nightlife, Fez medina and its culture, Agadir’s beach and golf, and of course Chigaga Merzouga, large sand dunes.

But there are many other things to discover in Morocco, many other protected areas, outside major tourist routes.

Do you by example El Jadida? A small port city, 100 miles from Casablanca, Essaouira along with, like Essaouira, a Portuguese fort, a blue and white medina, and beautiful beaches? And an architectural marvel, the Portuguese cistern, a former tank?

Do you Goulmima, Oasis ponds, the Ksar Amazigh the confines of the Ziz Valley, whose inhabitants maintain cultures and traditions alive and well?

Have you Jebel Zireg a mountain of black shale-covered red sand in the desert, a few kilometers from Algeria? Berber nomads to raise goats and camels, and you can bivouac, far from all, in a setting worthy of the novel “Dune”?

Have you near Ouarzazate, the small village of Demnate at the foothills of the Atlas? It is made films, and Hillary Clinton is spent on the trail of his ancestors.

We can also do many things. An active tourism is growing more and more, which, beyond the pleasures of the beach, sports or simply visiting, offers various activities.
Learn pottery and oriental dance, learn the charms and the intricacies of Moroccan cuisine, participate in environmental actions, replanting in the desert during a ride, do an internship in photography are few opportunities to you. And if you’re sporty, you can leave with a caving club or hang-gliding from the top of the Tizi n’Test –

To really experience the real Morocco, we must move away from major tourist routes. Take time to wander a bit, get lost in small roads and trails that go “elsewhere”. Here you can find an authentic contact with people whose sense of hospitality has not been transformed by the hotel industry. Here one can spend an unforgettable holiday –

Quando sedete comodamente avvolti dalla vostra poltrona preferita, sorseggiando una tazza di Kopi Luwak, non vi è mai venuto in mente questo accostamento?

Non che le due cose abbiano da essere consumate assieme, nè in sequenza, è solo un’associazione di idee, che sicuramente vi ha già fatto riflettere sulle mirabilie dell’ingegno umano.

Il Kopi Luwak, indubbiamente il miglior caffè al mondo,  viene infatti prodotto senza la faticosa raccolta delle bacche comprese di frutti, che dovrebbero quindi essere asportati, per permettere la tostatura dei chicchi.

Gran parte del lavoro è infatti eseguito da solerti ed affamati Paradoxurus hermaphroditus, ovvero zibetti delle palme comuni.

Questi simpatici mammiferi mangiano e digeriscono le bacche di caffè, corrodendo parzialmente il chicco con i loro succhi gastrici.Il tutto passa poi per il tratto intestinale, conferendo al chicco il suo unico e inconfondibile aroma.

Essendo abitudinari di carattere, è dunque poi facile raccogliere il frutto di questa lavorazione nei loro luoghi di deiezione.

Ora il prezioso chicco è pronto per una leggera tostatura, e diviene ciò che l’attore John Cleese ha definito brillantemente: “un caffè terroso, marcio, leggero, sciropposo, sostanzioso e con sottotoni di giungla e cioccolato.

A proposito di attori, anche Jack Nicholson non può che esaltare le qualità del Kopi Luwak in questa celebre sequenza:

Cosa c’entra tutto questo con l’olio di Argan?

Probabilmente quello che avete a casa per cucinare la Tajine, o per massaggiarvi le stanche membra, comperato l’ultima volta che siete passati per Essaouira, non sarà stato prodotto secondo l’antica procedura, ma pare ci siano ancora piccoli paesi dove viene onorata la tradizione.

Questa vuole infatti, che i frutti di Argan, situati su spinosissimi alberi, vengano mangiati dalle capre al pascolo, che ne sono ghiotte.

Per arrivarci, si arrampicano pure sulle ostiche piante, come ho cercato di documentare in questa foto.

La procedura è poi la stessa del Kopi Luwak. La parte commestibile del frutto spetta alle capre, il seme, bell’e che pulito, pronto per l’estrazione del salubre olio, basta raccattarlo dietro alle stesse.

]]> http://deftcraft.wordpress.com/2009/09/28/travel-to-morocco-off-the-beaten-path/ Mon, 28 Sep 2009 00:08:24 +0000 deftcraft http://deftcraft.wordpress.com/2009/09/28/travel-to-morocco-off-the-beaten-path/

When it comes to holiday in Morocco, we immediately think of Marrakech, riads and nightlife, Fez medina and its culture, Agadir’s beach and golf, and of course Chigaga Merzouga, large sand dunes.

But there are many other things to discover in Morocco, many other protected areas, outside major tourist routes.

Do you by example El Jadida? A small port city, 100 miles from Casablanca, Essaouira along with, like Essaouira, a Portuguese fort, a blue and white medina, and beautiful beaches? And an architectural marvel, the Portuguese cistern, a former tank?

Do you Goulmima, Oasis ponds, the Ksar Amazigh the confines of the Ziz Valley, whose inhabitants maintain cultures and traditions alive and well?

Have you Jebel Zireg a mountain of black shale-covered red sand in the desert, a few kilometers from Algeria? Berber nomads to raise goats and camels, and you can bivouac, far from all, in a setting worthy of the novel “Dune”?

Have you near Ouarzazate, the small village of Demnate at the foothills of the Atlas? It is made films, and Hillary Clinton is spent on the trail of his ancestors.

We can also do many things. An active tourism is growing more and more, which, beyond the pleasures of the beach, sports or simply visiting, offers various activities.
Learn pottery and oriental dance, learn the charms and the intricacies of Moroccan cuisine, participate in environmental actions, replanting in the desert during a ride, do an internship in photography are few opportunities to you. And if you’re sporty, you can leave with a caving club or hang-gliding from the top of the Tizi n’Test –

To really experience the real Morocco, we must move away from major tourist routes. Take time to wander a bit, get lost in small roads and trails that go “elsewhere”. Here you can find an authentic contact with people whose sense of hospitality has not been transformed by the hotel industry. Here one can spend an unforgettable holiday –

When it comes to holiday in Morocco, we immediately think of Marrakech, riads and nightlife, Fez medina and its culture, Agadir’s beach and golf, and of course Chigaga Merzouga, large sand dunes.

But there are many other things to discover in Morocco, many other protected areas, outside major tourist routes.

Do you by example El Jadida? A small port city, 100 miles from Casablanca, Essaouira along with, like Essaouira, a Portuguese fort, a blue and white medina, and beautiful beaches? And an architectural marvel, the Portuguese cistern, a former tank?

Do you Goulmima, Oasis ponds, the Ksar Amazigh the confines of the Ziz Valley, whose inhabitants maintain cultures and traditions alive and well?

Have you Jebel Zireg a mountain of black shale-covered red sand in the desert, a few kilometers from Algeria? Berber nomads to raise goats and camels, and you can bivouac, far from all, in a setting worthy of the novel “Dune”?

Have you near Ouarzazate, the small village of Demnate at the foothills of the Atlas? It is made films, and Hillary Clinton is spent on the trail of his ancestors.

We can also do many things. An active tourism is growing more and more, which, beyond the pleasures of the beach, sports or simply visiting, offers various activities.
Learn pottery and oriental dance, learn the charms and the intricacies of Moroccan cuisine, participate in environmental actions, replanting in the desert during a ride, do an internship in photography are few opportunities to you. And if you’re sporty, you can leave with a caving club or hang-gliding from the top of the Tizi n’Test –

To really experience the real Morocco, we must move away from major tourist routes. Take time to wander a bit, get lost in small roads and trails that go “elsewhere”. Here you can find an authentic contact with people whose sense of hospitality has not been transformed by the hotel industry. Here one can spend an unforgettable holiday –

I came across the photo collection of Buschinho in a website called Tabblo. I had never heard of this website, but it seems to be rather lavish and swanky for those of you who are into photography, whether creating them or watching them. Beautiful images of all kinds, you should check it out.

Buschinho has a “tabblo” (simply, an album) called La beauté du Maroc—Essaouira; you can imagine I wasn’t going to pass on that. I looked at the pictures over and over. I took in the faces, the colors, the way they depict life in Essaouira. They carried me back, to the same exact places that I saw with AK.

I enjoyed them so very much.

Forget Venetian gondolas. I think there can’t a more beautiful or charming way to navigate the waters than in these blue boats.

Essaouira is a city of fishermen and Essaouira’s port is world famous. The port is not used for commercial traffic and fishing is done only for local distribution. This plays a significant role in the overall atmosphere and lure of the port and has enabled it to retain its authenticity and breathtaking charm. The docks literally come alive with the movement and noise of local fishermen enticing passersby to purchase their shellfish, sardines, or other fresh catches. The jovial chatter of fishermen repairing their nets and selling fish while trying to discourage hungry gulls is a sight to behold, and it makes the port a really lovely place. But the best decoration is the rows of these colorful boats, which are made from eucalyptus and teak wood. These boats adorn the waters of the Atlantic with their magnificent blue.

It was right here, in Essaouira’s main square, that I sat for my first Kaab el ghzal. I wrote about that experience already, you can read all about it here.

Right across from that tree, there’s a place called Chez Mustapha. It was there that AK and I sat every night during our time in Essaouira, where we shamelessly killed the hours, listening to everything from Bob Marley to Gnawa to The Beatles, looking at people walk by, or looking at each other.

An alley in Essaouira. One of those alleys that I love walking through.

Essaouira’s blue. If a place is ever remembered by its color, then Essaouira should always be remember as a town of vivid blue skin.

But not everything is blue, of course. There are no blue pills; it’s Viagra Touareg in Essaouira’s authentic pharmacies.

Graine pour sourir – seed to smile. What could be better than that?

One of my favorite things about Essaouira are all the stunning scarves, given that I am an avid scarf collector. The colors, the lines, the way they shine in the sunlight, the artistic way in which they are arranged.

AK and I had a our first little fight over scarves. We were walking along an alley in the center of the medina, and I saw the most beaituful scarves in shades of red and orange. I wanted to stop, but AK wanted to get a haircut. He told me that we were going to come back, but after he cut his hair, we went back to the apartment. By the time he brought me back, it was dark and I couldn’t see the colors well. I was upset; if I buy only one thing when I travel, it has to be a scarf. But, after whining a little because he didn’t take me to the shop during the day, I bought 3 scarves in shades of purple, fuschia, and silver. They adorn my winter days in a very Essaouiran way.

Anyone would be inspired to cook a good meal if the spices are presented so beautifully. This is not just in Essaouira, though. All shops in Morocco display their spices like this, and I find it strikingly pretty.

Normal life in Essaouira. Mothers talking. Children playing.

The doors of Essaouira. There isn’t an alley in Essaouira that’s not festooned by one of these blue doors. They are everywhere, all of them beautiful. Should be especially nice coming back home if you get to open one of these doors.

*** All these photos are by German photographer Buschinho, his name in Tabblo. He seems to have fallen under the spell of Morocco over last summer and has some very lovely photos of Essaouira, Marrakseh, and Maroc! You can see all his work here.

Taking a break from the San Francisco chronicles posted in the last few weeks, I am posting from my file photos a series of shots I took of traditional doors in Marrakesh and Essaouira in Morocco last December 2007.

In a previous blog I posted photos with the colour blue.  Doors is the theme for this blog. The subject of doors (old, closed, open, falling apart, etc.) took my attention while wandering through the narrow streets of Essaouira, a charming coastal city near Marrakesh.

Most of the photos here are from Essaouira, and for readers who are fervent travellers, don’t miss this often ignored Moroccan city as it has a lot to offer in terms of local colour, art, Medieval forts and handicrafts. In Essaouira,  I simply and happily pressed the shutter every time a door, literally, opens and offers the opportunity.

I only made a few selection here. Perhaps, I should one day make good prints of these photos and collect them in an album.

There is no need for detailed captions as these door photos should speak for itself. And as the cliche goes, when one door closes, another one opens. Or is it a ‘window’ (of opportunity)? Ach! Anyway, enjoy the doors of Morocco.

Essaouira (translates as: “The well drawn”…Thanks to French Arquitect Theodore Cornut)

By Isaure Cointreau

If the title makes your eye brow illustrate your surprise don’t look for a bad joke, the truth is as incredible as I just said. This place is magical and although it is a smooth and gentle introduction to the Maghrebian world your stay there may be the most memorable of your trip to Morocco, though at times you may feel as if you were on the French northern coast. Just like in Bretagne although the sun is pounding during the day  don’t forget your jumpers as with the breeze comes the chills.

The wind blows endlessly and at high speed therefore it is no wonder this place is a paradise for all water sports lovers. Surfers of any kind know this spot as a reference, along competing with the waves of Australia, South Africa and the French coast.  If you are just staying for a few days don’t bother taking your stuff with you as along the beach you’ll find top equipment for a fair price.

Essauouira is a magical place I already said that didn’t I? It is a city by the coast where the sun, the sand and the seagulls are your best friends along with mint tea, spicy scents and the lively spirit of the locals. Always with a smile when you engage conversation, whether you ask for a loaf of bread at the market or try to get some anecdotes about the Tunisian/ Moroccan relationship around Tajine. We certainly noticed that respect is the key to a good interaction. Show them that you enjoy their culture and country; they will open up and try to share with you the wonders of their world.

Arriving from Marrakech after a three hour rollercoaster ride, in a bus wich condition made you wonder how the hell can it still be driven from one place to another without dismantling itself, we arrived.

When we got off the bus people went crazy over us with offers about rooms to be let at a good price, of course we got a little skeptical on the subject. However because we took it as a joke bargaining prices for fun we got a good offer and it would have been foolish to leave it at that. We then followed the renters with a grin and were surprised to find a clean and comfortable flat to be shared with other backpackers. It was somewhat luxurious for what we expected for that price. We would share a double bed for three, and the other one would be cozy and alone on the other one. Although sometimes one would prefer the floor than to be squashed by the other two, it went pretty smoothly. Every morning one would pay rent and go to the market to get breakfast. What a delightful stay!

The café de France was one of our favorite stop for a nice coffee. However if you are looking for a little bit of fun with lively music and an incredible view try to get to the Taros roof top bar. The city is full of nice places to grab a bite whether you want grilled fish, superb tajines in a typical décor, or a simple snacking restaurant. The choice is yours and directions are multiple depending on it. So what will it be: the Harbor, the city center or the beach?

The rhythm of your stay will be all about taking your time and enjoying the present. Sunbathing, walks around the town to visit the main sites, swimming for those who are brave enough (water is very…refreshing), and shopping at the local market for oil, spices and wooden work.

Here it is all about holidays. However don’t miss out on the Medina, the Kasbah, and the Mellah, the souk, the Judeo-Christian cemetery and the not so expected church. To be fair there isn’t much to visit though the city walls are quite impressive, and the picturesque harbor is worth a photo shoot. Therefore, after having had a stroll about these different spots feel free to enjoy the sun and the sand. Holidays are in the air of Essaouira, so cheers!

Port d’essaouira, ville heureuse de toujours vous accueillir pour vous faire découvrir la culture marocaine à travers sa Médina, son port et ses ruelles.

Trilho salama

We are a young team with spirit of initiative and creativity.

We hug the wish of taking travelers to try such a rich country in culture, gastronomy, music, sceneries and of heart totally opened for his visitors.

We created in order that supplied some specific circuits that include the visit to several regions of north to south.

Essaouira sunset, con tanta invidia per davebeere

Per il matrimonio abbiamo deciso di farci il nostro regalo preferito, un bel viaggio. Meta di quest’anno il Marocco tanto a lungo sognato. Dopo un mese di indecisione ci siamo decisi, Marrakech e la costa atlantica, viaggio faidate come al solito ma questa volta un po’ meno, se riusciamo vorremmo provare una mini escursione fra gli alberi di argan , le palmerie e i banchetti di pesce di Essaouira organizzata da un gruppo di operatori di turismo responsabile Yallaz . Abbiamo scoperto solo in questi giorni questa forma di viaggio ma la trovo fantastica, gli itinerari sono originali, interessanti, poco da turismo di massa e molto attenti a natura, cultura e tradizioni. Avevamo scartato molti tour proprio per lo scarso contatto con la cultura locale e le persone che forse sono il motivo per cui ci addentriamo in questo mondo. Intanto aspettiamo di sapere se ci sono date compatibili con il nostro soggiorno diversamente… stesso itinerario ma all’avventura provando a non farci mangiare da capre e cammelli

One thing is true: It’s easy to be charmed by the aesthetics of Essaouira. Its sublime atmosphere. Its laid-back character. Its local color.

It’s bohemian. It’s healthy. It maintains its identity.  

And it’s a medina of winding alleys that keep a certain mystery; you never know what awaits around the corner. Walking through Essaouira’s alleys feels like an adventure, filled with beauty and serenity.

Ah! Moroccan blue. It’s not just the walls, the doors and the windows. It’s also the tires. Essaouira is a town of artists with peculiar ideas, you see?

People stroll about always in silence. Everything is quiet here.

And sometimes you arrive at a junction of magical alleys, and you wonder which one you should follow. And you realize you’ve lost all sense of place and you are lost in the insides of the medina. And you give in; you don’t even try to stop it.

And the medina’s walls double as shopping windows. And you admire the stock, and wonder about the secrets concealed behind the shut windows.

And unexpectedly, you will come across a little detail that will make an alley different from the next.

And there are stores! Unbelievable, whimsical stores!

And they sell eccentric treasures. I mean, I would have killed for that dress, but AK didn’t appear interested in shopping. To him, that’s not impressive…

And if you are lucky, you will encounter something that will stick with you… I remember these boys; they were fighting over what seemed to me like a coin. And they didn’t see us coming, and when we got close…

… they posed for AK, and then they ran away and vanished… into one of Essaouira’s alleys. I wish we had asked their names. I wonder if I will ever see them again.

The allure of Essaouira comes from it’s tranquility. This medina doesn’t try, it just is.

***All photos are AK’s.

Essaouira, la antigua fortaleza portuguesa de Mogador, el último bastión y refugio de piratas del siglo XV.

Sus cañones con inscripciones heraldicas españolas, siempre apuntando al traicionero océano, este lugar, que en otro tiempo fue un sitio de guerra, de pólvora y de sangre, hoy es un lugar donde las parejas de enamorados pasean y comparten sus sueños.

Pero también Essaouira fue el último reducto hippy de los 70, ya que en sus laberinticas callejuelas, y en sus bohemias esquinas, quedaron atrapadas para siempre las almas de Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, Jim Morrison, Cat Stevens, este último después se convirtió al Islam, y de un sin fin de personas de lo más variopinto, que lo visitan cada año para disfrutar de sus festivales musicales y culturales.

Essaouira tiene una personalidad única, es una ciudad limpia y segura, tiene una impresionante playa, se come bien, y tiene múltiples opciones de alojamiento. Por sus calles no circula ningún coche, es una ciudad completamente peatonal.

Bazares y salas de arte adornan sus calles, y gatos dormitando por todas partes, son sagrados.

Hoy Essaouira es un lugar donde veranea lo más selecto de la sociedad de Marruecos, y últimamente también europea, y no es difícil ver por sus laberínticas calles a poetas, escritores, pintores, ciudadanos europeos disfrutando de su segunda juventud, y a jovenes con diversidad de colores y aspectos, pensando, recapacitando, meditando, inmersos en sus pensamientos, y volando no se sabe bien a que mundo lejano y apartado. Aquí Orson Welles durante tres años rodó Otelo, también Ridley Scott realizó el rodaje de El reino de los cielos

Essaouira significa -bien nacida-, pero en bereber significa -poseída por el viento-, y esta ciudad que su nombre se extiende cada vez más y más, tiene un mágico encanto que no durara para siempre.

During our honeymoon in Morocco, Jim and I spent a few days in the seaside town of Essaouira. We strolled the narrow stone streets overlooking the ocean and relaxed on the beach, breathing in the salt air with each step. One hot, sunny day at lunchtime, we walked down to the port and seated ourselves at one of the myriad fish stands right by the water. Seagulls swarmed overhead, swooping down every so often to investigate the fresh seafood that local fishermen unloaded from their boats.

At the time, Jim and I didn’t eat fish often. But there was no way we could avoid it in Essaouira, and neither did we want to. Maybe we were still giddy from our wedding or something, I’m not sure. Anyway, we ordered a big platter of straight-from-the-sea, grilled sardines for lunch. Using our hands, we picked our way past the charred, salty skin and spindly bones to the cleanest, freshest meat we had ever tasted. Four years later, we still talk about about that lunch and its effect on us.

This past weekend we tried to recreate that meal—or at least the spirit of it—in a very different setting. We pulled our grill pan out from under the sink, heated it through, and grilled 2 pounds of barely seasoned sardines for dinner. A Brooklyn apartment might seem a shabby substitute for an exotic African port, but it didn’t hinder us at all. After cooking for just a couple of minutes on each side, the skin of the shimmery fish was transformed into a crackly coating, and our apartment was quickly infused with salty scents of the sea. (That’s my nice way of saying it smelled like fish.)

I don’t know why it took us four years to cook sardines at home, especially when there are so many benefits to eating them. Sardines are a highly sustainable fish source, which at least puts my mind at ease in terms of purchasing and eating them. And in addition to being a great source of omega-3s, they are low in all those scary contaminants I keep reading about. These small, oily fish surprisingly pack a big nutritional punch.

But let’s not forget how good they taste. I served ours atop a bed of rice, with some fresh lemon wedges on the side. The crisp skin was a perfect foil to the fresh, flaky meat hidden within. Even though we were miles away from Morocco, Jim and I were transported there for just a moment, as we once again used our hands to pick past the tiny bones towards the light, clean flesh of the sardines. Fishy apartment aside, it was a great trip.

Recipe for Indoor Grilled Sardines (adapted from Martha Rose Shulman’s recipe in the Recipes for Health section of the New York Times)

• 2 pounds of cleaned sardines
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• sea salt
• pepper
• lemon wedges

Heat a grill pan over medium heat, until it is very hot. While the pan is heating, rinse the sardines, and dry them with paper towels. Toss with olive oil, and season them generously with salt and pepper.

When the grill is ready, place the sardines on it. Grill for 1 to 2 minutes on each side. Transfer to a platter using tongs and serve with lemon wedges. Serves 2. Enjoy!