Three Days in Essaouira
Date
Essaouira is what Marrakech dreams about when it finally falls asleep.
After the glorious stimulation of Marrakech, the spices, tiled seductions and theatrical chaos, Essaouira arrives like a linen shirt soaked in sea breeze. Three hours west, the temperature softens, clocks become decorative objects and the Atlantic barges rudely into Morocco with all the subtlety of an ageing rock star arriving late to lunch.
People come for “two nights” and leave discussing property prices and whether they really need a LinkedIn profile anymore.
The town has always attracted the wandering sort: musicians, painters, beautiful Europeans with suspiciously good scarves and the occasional exhausted creative director pretending to “disconnect.” And somehow, despite the galleries, chic cafés and increasing international attention, Essaouira still feels gloriously unbothered by itself.
Which is precisely its charm.
DAY ONE — ARRIVING PROPERLY
Morning — Breakfast & Ancient Essaouira
The first rule of Essaouira is simple: don’t rush.
Wake slowly. Sit somewhere sunny. Order coffee before making any ambitious life decisions.
For proper strong coffee, head to “Coffee Arabico”. The “Nous Nous” will arrive with the sort of seriousness usually reserved for small-batch whisky. The café itself feels as though somebody transplanted a fragment of East London into the medina and taught it Moroccan manners.
Then wander.
The medina in Essaouira is wonderfully humane and still feels very local. Unlike Marrakech, where navigation can feel like participating in an Olympic obstacle course, the streets here breathe. Whitewashed walls and an incredible blue glow in Atlantic light. Wooden shutters peel romantically. Cats and kittens sleep with existential confidence.
Pop into L’Atelier – Café Boutique, part café, part elegant distraction. Everything inside looks as though it belongs in a lifestyle magazine owned by somebody French and emotionally unavailable.
For breakfast or a second breakfast, entirely acceptable in Essaouira, settle into Café Vera. It has the distinct feeling of a small boutique café from Italy that somehow drifted south and washed ashore in Morocco. Sit outside, order something buttery and watch the town begin its day.
Afternoon — Lunch in the Medina
Lunch should involve vegetables, sunlight and absolutely nowhere urgent to be afterwards.
People also flock to Loft, which has become one of the town’s dependable social headquarters all polished ease, attractive people and very competent lunches.
Picknick is delightfully relaxed and reassuringly full of people who own tote bags. Fresh vegetarian dishes, colourful plates and a breezy atmosphere make it one of the town’s most quietly fashionable spots.
Or book a table at the new spot: Ombu, where the mood is slower, greener and deeply Essaouira the sort of place where lunch casually mutates into late afternoon tea.
Evening Rooftop and sunset
As sunset approaches, walk the old sea walls. The Atlantic throws itself dramatically against the ramparts while gulls circle overhead sounding permanently outraged about something.
Then: rooftop drinks.
Or perhaps a cold beer at the very shabby Le BAR Celone. Gloriously scruffy, faintly collapsing and entirely perfect. It feels like a forgotten Spanish bar from 1987 where time simply gave up trying or sweeping the floor apparently.
DAY TWO — SALT, WIND & LONG LUNCHES
Morning — Windy shopping
Essaouira runs on wind. Not weather, wind as philosophy.
The beach stretches endlessly south, full of kite surfers, galloping horses and couples attempting romantic walks while being lightly sandblasted by the Atlantic.
For lunch by the sea, head to Ocean Vagabond. It remains one of the great Essaouira institutions: beach club, restaurant, wind refuge and prolonged excuse to avoid returning home. Long wooden terraces, excellent seafood and people who look as though they permanently smell faintly of sunscreen and freedom.
Afterwards, drift back into the medina and browse galleries, tiny boutiques and workshops selling thuya wood, rugs and ceramics you absolutely do not need but will buy anyway.
Dinner in Essaouira should always involve either fish or Italy.
Dinner - Delicious Fresh Moroccan Food
For fish, there is only one answer: the port. Choose your seafood directly from the market stalls and have it grilled over charcoal beside the harbour. Sardines, squid, lobster, sea bass smoky, messy, glorious. You will leave smelling like Neptune’s barbecue.
For Moroccan food, slip quietly into the tiny local restaurants along Rue Alkhabazine, beside Chez Mama. No branding. No concept interiors. Just proper cooking. Order the zalouk, smoky aubergine salad slicked with olive oil and thank me later.
If the Atlantic breeze has made you crave carbohydrates, Essaouira oddly excels at Italian food.
Silvestro in the old town is charmingly old-school and deeply comforting.
Meanwhile, Dolce Freddo in the newer town somehow manages the impossible feat of feeling authentically Italian in coastal Morocco. Sit outside and you could almost believe Naples had drifted gently into North Africa.
Late evening? There’s always Taros delightfully naughty, faintly chaotic and proof that Morocco occasionally enjoys misbehaving too.
DAY THREE — THE PLEASURE OF DOING VERY LITTLE
Morning — Hidden Gardens & Slow Wandering
By day three, Essaouira begins quietly dismantling your nervous system.
You stop checking emails. Conversations slow down. Shoes feel increasingly optional.
Start with coffee. Then another coffee.
Read by the beach. Wander through the souks one last time. Buy ceramics that won’t survive the flight home. Sit in the square listening to Gnawa musicians whose rhythms seem to emerge directly from the Atlantic itself.
Afternoon — Hammam Time
Perhaps squeeze in a hammam before leaving steam, eucalyptus and the ceremonial removal of several emotional layers.
And then suddenly it’s evening again.
Evening — A Final Sunset on the Harbour wall
The gulls wheel above the ramparts. Fishing boats bob in the harbour. The medina glows pale gold beneath the setting sun.
And Essaouira performs its final trick.
It never tries too hard to seduce you. It simply waits patiently for you to realise you no longer want to leave.
