Essaouira

Bronze cannon stand in a row facing the sea. Waves strike the wall and the spray comes up over the guns.

Hundreds of wooden boats painted the same blue lie tied at the quay. When the boats return in the afternoon the gulls arrive all at once.

The streets follow a grid, unlike any other Moroccan city. A French engineer drew the plan, so nobody gets lost in these lanes.

Steady wind on the long strand draws people learning to surf under a kite. Sand blows hard, so the eyes need covering when it gusts.

Woodworking shops line the arches inside the rampart. Thuya wood is turned into boxes and chess boards and the scent hangs in the passage.

Falcons nest on the uninhabited islands offshore, so landing is not allowed. A boat circles them and the birds are watched on the cliffs.

Women crack argan nuts by striking them with a stone and press the oil. Machines are said to change the scent, so the work stays manual.

Iron castanets and a three string lute carry a music that runs through the night. At the June festival it is played in the squares without charge.

Camels carry riders along the sand to the dunes in the south. The wind wipes the tracks away almost as they are made.

Goats climb argan trees to reach the fruit and are seen up in the branches. Some by the roadside are placed there on purpose, so a second look is worth taking.

The open square between medina and port; step through the sea gate and the fishing quay begins. People sit on café terraces around it to watch the gulls and the sunset over the water. Gusts sweep across, so even terrace seats call for a jacket.

An 18th-century harbour bastion; a ticket gets you up the tower. From the top the blue fishing boats, the medina walls and the Mogador Islands fit into one frame. Near sunset the walls glow red, which is when to climb.

A restored mansion near the old Jewish quarter, opened in 2020 as a house of memory telling, through photographs and objects, how Muslims and Jews lived together here. It contains the restored Slat Attia synagogue. An hour covers it.

In a covered market block deep in the medina, the day's catch is laid out on slabs. Buy something and carry it to a grill nearby; they cook it for a small fee. Mornings offer the widest choice.

The ruin of an old fort half buried in sand off Diabat, past the far southern end of the town beach; at ebb tide you can wade close. A story links it to a famous song, but nothing confirms it. Walk along the sand or go on horseback.

A long beach that Essaouira drivers reach in 30 minutes heading south, with wind and swell good enough for surf schools. On the rocks at one end sits a white shrine. Shops there are few, so buy drinking water and snacks before you go.

A tiny village on the shore north of Essaouira, where the wind blows hard and steady and draws windsurfers and kitesurfers. Apart from a few guesthouses and a shrine there is little else. The water suits experienced riders more than beginners.