| Travel |
Shots by Ronald W.
We lurked around Essaouira like a cruising Asian ocean liner for the best catch of the day, each stall so aggressively poaching guests for modest Dirhams in exchange for their king lobsters and crabs. A big village, an old soul, and one windy system, if there was a time I wished I could surf, it was there and then. Everyone was in each other's business in this town of fortified walls and bustling medina, but I don't mean gossip. Kids with a studied eye nose around severed sharks being single-handedly sweeped across the port and into the city, and surf boys relinquishing their childhood pastimes in competitive diving as voted by tourists et al, unlicensed of course.
In fact, the charming community by the Atlantic coast in their very own way of life is not a Disney, nor Broadway production, but rather in their simplest form - an unchoreographed easy breezy semi-charmed picture, a mental floss to our fantasies of the parallel universe, surely.
As fulfilling as my day trip was to an Epsom salt soak, my fascination derived a refreshing perspective - these fellas never needed an apprenticeship in life.
Stay gold. X
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