The time in singing Essaouira passed by very quickly. We were delaying the day of our departure, but finally it had to come and we left the winding, white streets, where groups of young people used to play instruments, sing and dance. It was high time to leave the city full of nice hippies and rastas, where package tourists where just a minority.
One of our Moroccan friends living with us in Essaouira left to Marrakesh and the rest (8 Moroccans and me) left to a secret fishing village that is not mentioned in any guidebook. I won't reveal the name of the village to keep it secret and untouched by mass tourism. The village, let's call it MS, is situated by the ocean and any newcomer always attracts everyone's attention. The place is known only by few people, mainly by Moroccans, surfers and those who know how to listen carefully. Because you can discover the village only when you listen to the stories of those who visited it.
The way from Essaouira to MS leads through winding road around the mountains, along the argan fields (the plant grows only in Morocco, in this area, and argan oil is a magic cosmetic and a healthy spice), above a cannion and deep water. You can reach MS only by car or a big taxi from Essaouira.
MS is a fish kingdom. The local bars sell fish and seafood and the main source of income is fishery. The small harbour is a home of hundreds of blue boats that set off for fishing every evening. Someone is always working here, sorting out fish or preparing small fish as a bait for huge species. Next to the harbour there's a special fish market, where a lot of men come twice per week to buy the best species on auction. Some little shops, cafes and bars, internet cafe with old computers and small surfing resort – that's the centre of the village. People here are very nice, although the sellers always demand higher prices when they meet newcomers, even if they are from Morocco. The village highlight is also an empty sandy beach and... small electrical cars. A kind of fun fair attraction, merged into the village landscape. In the evening the area with the cars becomes the main attraction and the only illuminated place in the village (at night the streets are totally dark and all lanterns are switched off). The locals (mainly kids and men) keep on watching the little electrical cars for hours. Those who can afford it (5 dhm for 10 minutes) join the car madness and soon become addicted to it. From late afternoon to late night hours the car platform produces loud strange music and slightly destroys the peace in the village.
Somehow we also became a part of this madness. That's what happens if you travel with 8 young crazy Moroccans that can even convince the owner of the cars to open the attractions for us only in the middle of the night and switch on the highest speed...
In the village we could also watch how a tradition Berber bread is prepared. Walking along the village streets late in the evening (about 11 p.m. everyone notices that it is high time to cook and eat something, so the big hunt for food begins), we discovered a dark little street lighten by low light. It turned out that the light comes from a Berber oven, outside a house full of women preparing round pieces of bread. One of the women was sitting in front of the oven, baking bread in a very short time. My Moroccan friends started to sing and play guitar for the women, making them come out of the house and laugh. We bought 10 pieces of bread for our late supper and left to cook a hot meal.
The few days we spend in the village were enough for the locals to recognize us anywhere we went – whether we were driving crazy cars, or playing and singing, or photographing the village with huge lens or just talking to fishermen. We decided to visit the village every year and spend there definitely more time. Unfortunately, our group soon had to split – 2 guys were coming back to Marrakesh for their flight back to France and Germany, another one was coming back to his work in Marrkesh, Yassine and me had to attend a wedding next day in Marrakesh and the rest just stayed there to enjoy the peaceful paradise.
So now we're in hot Marrakesh again (on the way back we went to Agadir also, but just to see that there's nothing to see, just an annoying tourist resort, invaded by commercialism) and we are preparing to attend a Moroccan wedding. It's always very long and pompous. Before a wedding all the women are recommended to go to a hairdresser, even if they don't really need it. I was also sent to a hairdresser, even though I kept on repeating there's nothing you can do with my hair. Anyway, the tradition has to be respected, so soon we are leaving for a big makeover.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment