Essaouira - Chapter One

The Enchanted Gateway

If our home here is from the Arabian Nights and the world just beyond our garden wall is an Advent calender, then Essaioura is a whole volume of Fairy Tales - a source of endless wonder and delight! And I have just begun to turn the pages..!

Once upon a time, about three thousand years ago, there was a small fishing village on the coast of Morocco. It took its name from the island that protected it against the strong marine winds - Mogador. In the 5th century BC, the Carthaginian navigator, Hanno, established Mogador as an important trading post, and, over time, the peaceful harbour became a powerful strategic stronghold. Over centuries, then, many nations would do battle over our small fishing village that would become a mighty sea port.

In 1506, the King of Portugal, Manuel I, ordered a fortress to be built there, the Castello Real de Mogador, as part of his ambition to establish numerous settlements in Morocco. Only 4 years later, his grand fortress fell to the local resistance fraternity, the Regraga. During the following 100 years, Spain, England, the Netherlands and, then, in 1629, France, under Cardinal Richelieu, all made attempts to make our little-village-made-big, their own. 


And while they fought, the sea pirates and traders in sugar and molasses continued to take advantage of its safe harbour. Until in the 18th century, King Mohammed III, decided that he too would like to make his bid in an effort to reorient his trading routes towards the Atlantic for increased sea trade with the European powers.

Envisioning great things for our still small harbour town, he directed the construction of a beautiful fortress built on modern lines, by the foremost European architects and engineers of the day. Originally called ‘Souira ‘, ‘The Small Fortress’, its name became, ‘Es-Saouira’, ‘The Beautifully Designed’.

So now our little fishing village had The King on its side. and that is when the magic really began. Southern trade was re-directed from Agadir to Essaouira and new areas were built, fashioned for Christian and Jewish merchants and diplomats. For over 150 years, the sheltered harbour served as Morocco's principal port, offering goods of the caravan trade - silk, salt, gold, ivory, pottery and exotic Indian spices.  And so wares from sub-Saharan Africa which were brought over the Atlas mountains, into Marrakesh were from thence exported across the wide world.

Essaouria, “The Beautifully Designed” - how apt the royal name remains. As we crossed through the magnificent outer gateway into the labyrinthine streets and alleyways of King Mohammed’s medina, past, present, reality and faiytale were made one. Dazzling shafts of sunlight played amongst the shadows, shooting down between the close set rooftops and making jewels; cobalt, emerald, ruby; of the painted shop fronts, carts and stalls. As we passed deeper into its heart, I had the

The Princess and The Shoe Maker

curious sense that, once entered, this was a world one could never leave, such was the aura of enchantment that drew one through the endless warren of intricately-paved passageways. How unexpected to find exquisite marquetry and hand-tooled leather work, timeless examples of craftsmanship and artistry, interspersed with

glitzy, fake designer wares, designed to net all manner of tourist ‘magpies’. What fun to peer through grime-blackend windows and

Pages of Enchantment still to be turned...

speculate as to what might lie inside, whilst just next door the exuberant art gallery throws without its vibrant canvases for all to see.

The senses reel still further at the potant brew of scents. Glorious flower oils and pungent spices blend with the smokey inklings that lunch is on its way. And, just as it has done since the beginning of time, the thunderous roar of the ocean provides a continual soundtrack to all... 

But wait! Lunch! And we had still not had breakfast! Lured by our tummies to request of the Enchanted Gateway that we are released into the elegant, wide boulevard of the town outside, we step out into the sun,

vowing to return just as soon as I am strong enough.

But for now we leave the bookmark here to mark our place. And dream of Kings and castles, fishing boats and camel trains and, binding all, the mighty roaring of the sea... 
Magical!