ESSAOUIRA

Essaouira isn’t the kind of place that demands to be seen—it simply lingers in the imagination, waiting for you to return. Or, if you haven’t yet been, to finally give in to its quiet pull. Perched on Morocco’s Atlantic coast, this breezy, sun-washed town is a photographer’s dream, a tangle of whitewashed walls, cerulean shutters, and the golden glow of late-afternoon light.

Unlike Marrakech, with its feverish intensity, Essaouira hums at its own unhurried pace. The medina, designated by the UNESCO a World Heritage Site in 2001, is full of life: fishermen hauling in their catch, Berber traders offering handwoven rugs, and the occasional lazy cat napping on a sun-drenched stoop. Every turn creates a new impression, a scene that seems naturally composed for the lens.

The harbour is where the city’s pulse is strongest. Seagulls wheel overhead, their cries punctuating the salty air, while the scent of grilling sardines drifts from makeshift stalls.

Then, of course, there’s the light. That famed North African sun, softened by ocean mist, lends every moment a painterly glow. Golden hour here is not just an hour—it’s an event, stretching languidly over the ramparts, tinting the waves, and making even the most ordinary street corner look cinematic. Whether it’s your first visit or your fifth, Essaouira never feels done. There’s always another shadow to chase, another colour to capture, another reason to stay just a little longer. And if all else fails, there’s always the sea—constant, endless, and always waiting.