Essauira’s Salt Marsh Madness: A Photographer’s Lunatic Love Letter

i woke up to the sound of my camera gear rattling against my backpack. 3348303 steps since i first arrived here, i think? or was that during my first airport transfer? maybe it was 1024249088? doesn’t matter. today started like a scene from a bad horror movie where the power dies and the only light is from the sun. or maybe it was the other way around. who knows.

esauira feels like it was designed by someone who forgot how to speak english. the streets are these labyrinths of red tile that smell like burnt spices and sudden nostalgia. i took a wrong turn once and ended up at this cave where a guy was teaching his kids to fish. he looked like he’d just survived a bad life decision, but he was laughing. i asked him for directions and he just pointed at this really old lighthouse. it was probably the kind where they stopped working in the 80s. you know, the kind with creepy windows.

btw i just checked and it’s 24.25 degrees right now. feels like 24.27. TODO: someone explain why the feels_like number is always 0.02 higher. it’s not a big deal, but it’s like this constant reminder that life is mathematically dishonest. anyway, i went to this spot called the salt marshes. literally walking through a field of dead grass that looks like someone unplugged a bunch of toxic lights. i took like 200 photos here. most of them were blurry because my lens fogged up or i tripped. one of them might’ve actually worked. maybe.

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> "i saw a guy with a parrot on his shoulder last week, but he was like 70 and smelled like almonds. don’t ask. just avoid smelling almonds near the market", i heard someone say at the bar last night. it was a random drunk guy in a sarong, but it sounded official. like a tourist warning. i’m gonna keep that in mind next time i’m thirsty for a drink.

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the neighbors here are… questionable. not in like, creepy neighbor haunted house vibes. more like, ‘sure, why not’ vibes. one family next door has a dont nova setup in their courtyard. every evening at 8pm exactly, they blast that stupid electronic music. i don’t know what kind of dance they do, but it’s probably sync to a metronome. if you’re sweating through your work pants, casablanca is just a short drive up. totally worth it if you want to gamble on a boat made of palm trees.

someone told me at a café that the locals believe the lighthouse is haunted. not like, ghostly lighthouse. more like, the wind changes direction when there’s a storm because the spirits are annoyed. i don’t buy it, but then again, i’m not the one who got chased by a goat last week near the medina. that goat stole my sandwich. i still have the receipt.

i stopped by yelp to read reviews of a seafood stall called le poisson fou. it had 4.3 stars but one review said, "the octopus tasted like guilt and seawater." another said, "best arancini in town if you like drowning your soul in garlic." i didn’t even look at the arancini. i just ordered the octopus. i regret nothing.

i found this thing on tripadvisor: "visit the plaza at noon and you’ll see a guy in a turban arguing with a sand sculpture. it’s normal here." that’s definitely happened. the sand sculpture was a crying man holding a wrong number sign. the turban guy was paid $20 to make it stop crying. he didn’t.

then i went to this weird market where everyone’s selling things that smell like 2am memories. there’s a stall with preserved lemons, and another one selling used passport photos taped to mirrors. the mirror stallkeeper told me, "you take a good selfie here, i’ll give you a free photo of a seagull wearing glasses." i didn’t take it. i was too busy trying to photograph a cactus that looked like it had a tiny pirate hat.

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> "the coffee here is cursed, they put lizard spit in it," i heard a tourist mutter. she was holding a cup of strong espresso and shaking like a leaf. i disagreed. i think it’s just the altitude messing with us. we all do. at least it doesn’t taste like regret like the seattle latte from three years ago.

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i ended up at this cliffside spot that barely made sense on the map. google said it was a ‘hidden beach’ but it was just a rock with sand next to it. i took this photo while climbing up a stupid ladder made of driftwood. the wind knocked it over halfway, but i kept going. bravery, i guess. here’s the shot:

i also saw a guy doing yoga on a literal beach dune. like, full lotus position in the sand. he had a mat but it was folded up like it had a personality. i asked him why and he just said, "gravity is a myth." i walked past his mat later and it had a coffee stain. i think he spilt his latte. we all do.

the weirdest thing was the fog. i just checked and it’s 24.25 degrees again. not a typo. it’s like this place holds onto that exact temperature and forces it to be the truth. maybe it’s trying to tell us something. i’m too tired to figure it out.

at night, i went to this place called la nuit de l’oiseau (literally night of the bird). it’s a rooftop bar with string lights and a menu that only has drinks named after sea creatures. i got a rum and a lot of calamari. the calamari was good. real good. the bartender told me, "you’re gonna love the city after dark. the streets are magic then." he was serious. i think he works at a magic shop by day.

the neighbors here don’t care if you’re loud. i played my ukulele at 10pm and everyone just waved. it was like a music festival in a small town. someone even joined in with a harmonica. i don’t know how they knew the song, but they did. we kept playing until i passed out. probably at 2am. this is often.


if you want to leave, the next city isn’t far. you just have to drive through a tunnel that smells like old fishing nets. i did that twice. once to go to cap oidi and once because i wanted to see if the smell went away. it never does. so yeah, if you get bored, [casablanca] is just a short drive away. totally worth skipping just to people-watch in a mall parking lot.

someone warned me to avoid the train station at 9pm because there’s this guy there who sells fake wristwatches shaped like keys. i didn’t believe him. i bought one anyway. it didn’t work. the strap broke. turns out i’m not the first victim. this is a thing that happens every year.

i’m writing this with my phone’s flashlight on. the screen is half-drunk in color because of all the sunset shots. it’s a good problem to have. i should probably charge it. or sleep. or both.

p.s. if you google this place later, you’ll see a review saying, "best beard oil in essauira." that’s 100% fake. i made it up to annoy my ex. she just dubbed it a fact now.

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