Color Me Blue, Not. Port Of Timbuctu,Essaouira, Morocco, Dec 2013
You say Van Gogh, I say Orson Welles,
I say Coke is red, you say it’s blue,
I call it Mogador, but you prefer Astapor,
I pick the ramparts, you go to the fishing port
So if you order oysters and cancel the grilled fish?
"Let’s call the whole thing off.”
Said no one, ever, of time spent in Essaouira. Because all of these are true and there’s really no argument. You want to do all of it and soak in the romance of the place. The best of doing and being.
I’m glad I’ve saved this as my last port of call in a grand tour of Morocco. They say it’s windswept, and they would be correct. Every brilliant sunrise I dutifully photograph, but my long hair won’t be tangle-free for days afterward. The white walls and blue doors of the medina are dreamy, but that’s a tale for another time.
Today, I insist on spending one of the last sunsets of the year at the marina, my legs hanging down over the water, watching the blue fishing boats - all tied together and swaying with the waves in hypnotic rhythm - while the seagulls scream “mine, mine, mine”. Did you know that the boats are all painted blue so as not to scare the fish? No, really.
Don’t Miss: Beyond the boats, on a little jetty, past hundreds of seagulls, overlooking the water, sits a wonderful fish restaurant called Chez Sam.
Original photos and content by VJ Singh / far-and-back. All Rights Reserved.