索维拉一日

The road west crosses the Chiadma plain, argan trees with goats in them, and drops to the Atlantic in a little under three hours. Essaouira is walled, low and white, and the wind does not stop.

You walk the ramparts and the Skala with its row of bronze cannon, then the mellah, then the port at the hour the boats come in. Lunch is whatever was landed that morning, grilled over charcoal at the quay, or a longer table at Madada if you would rather sit down properly.

The afternoon is the medina: thuya wood workshops, a gallery or two, coffee on Place Moulay Hassan. You leave by five and are back for dinner in Marrakech. It suits travelers who want sea air and a day out of the heat.