We entered the walled town through the very impressive archway of the South Bastion and weaved our way through the grid of wide streets (an unusual contrast to the typical maze of Moroccan alleyways). We stumbled across small enclosed courtyards by narrow passageways, finding interesting market areas or spots where local men gathered to play backgammon, smoke, or just discuss the weighty issues of the day. Women folk, in their yashmaks, passed us in the shopping areas, and many children, as seems to be customary in a country where education is an expensive luxury, help in the family trade of metalwork or polishing the wood of treenware.

We walked through a series of tunnels to find ourselves on the ascent to the ramparts of Skala du Port, past a number of small workshops and trading stalls set in the fortress arches. At the top we saw a row of cannons lined up and pointing out to the fierce sea with waves breaking on the stony outcrops. As Essaouira (known as Magador to the Portuguese) was an important gateway to Europe and a centre of trade to northern Africa, it is really not surprising that they had built sturdy and well-defended fortifications. Down below we see the harbour and the wide sandy beach, which we saw the full extent of when we drove out of Essaouira. Certainly it’s easy to understand why this resort is so popular with windsurfers.

Walking down to the harbour, we enjoyed looking in the numerous shops, being pleased that we’d bought our treenware at the Agadir Souk (which had much cheaper prices than those in Essaouira) and rising to the challenge of a small corner stall trading in Berber hats. Just the job, I think, for the long cold days back in Nottingham, as I do my bargaining with the stallholder. He pulls various faces to signify his unhappiness, but finally, we agree a price to my benefit. I just can’t understand why my wife thought it odd that I would want to wear my newly purchased trophy in the heat of the Moroccan day.

There’s a lot of restoration going on in Essaouira, a sign, we guessed, of the wealth bought by tourism, but even so, most tradesmen seemed to prefer horse-drawn transport. Talk about going back in time!

The harbour was rammed with blue fishing boats, and canopied restaurants packed the waterside. Once you get used to the smell, you’ll be able to enjoy the taste of freshly grilled sardines.

On the road to Agadir, keep an eye out for the goats that feed off the trees. It’s a fascinating sight to see these agile animals climbing the trees to feed off the vegetation. Have your camera ready, but don’t be surprised to see the outstretched hand of the goat herder!