Dear Denny,
I am glad to know that you noticed our absence in the blogoshpere, since at times I am convinced that you have forgotten me completely. We returned yesterday from yet another beach vacation, this time to Essaouira. Essaouira is a lovely beach town that was a haven for the export of sugar molasses and the anchoring of pirates during the 16th century. Jimi Hendrix also visited, which is a real point of pride for the city. We decided to go with some friends that work at (okay, own) a restaurant down the street from us. On our way, we drove directly into a storm, and could not see one foot in any direction. I almost threw up from fear and Julia almost threw up from car sickness. When we arrived, several terrifying hours later, at our little beach side hotel we had a nice meal of fresh fish (prepared over a fire right in front of us), salads and wine. Then the four french people we were with smoked 500,000 cigarettes and we all went to bed.
The next day we rented four runners (really not sure if that's what they are called), and raced around the beach and through the sand dunes. Had I not been so utterly scared the day before in the car, this may have been the most frightening part about the weekend for me. Then we went to a little shack on the water where there were tons of stray dogs, one little puppy and several attractive Europeans getting stoned and eating seafood. We (not Julia and I) picked out the fish and crabs that we wanted killed for our feast. Julia went swimming in the ocean and I played with the puppy and a couple of camels. Since we stayed about twenty minutes away from Essaouira, we didn't really get to see much of the city. We went in only on our way back to Marrakech, but for our new European friends, visiting a city means only entering, finding the first nice food establishment and ordering more food and wine while exploring the city from the rooftop.
But since the actual town is supposed to be rather charming, I think we will return in a few weekends.
Love,
Megan Marion
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1 comment:
Your excursion sounds only too darling. Perhaps, I can coerce "interested parties" into touring the more charm-soaked locales of the fair state of CT. Said "parties" owe me as much.
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