Saturday, January 29, 2011

Les Aventures en Afrique, Essaouira, Morocco

We wandered around the tiny medina of Essaouira for about a half hour until we met some Brits who had been staying there for two weeks already. They showed us around the narrow streets, greeting the locals and telling us little bits of history about the town. It's an incredibly old ville--at about 5th century BCE it was developed into a trading post. After that, it had been claimed, captured, reclaimed and recaptured about a dozen times by numerous civilizations. The city (more so a village) is encased by a 15 meter wall that bears the gashes and holes from ancient invasions. Rows upon rows of cannons line the perimeter of the wall, especially the walls facing the sea.





It provoked in my imagination the scene of a naval attack of which I'm sure had occurred. I thought of the horizon speckled with little wooden ships trying to reach shore. In fact, it's likely that Essaouira was constructed in this particular place as a defense from a naval attack; the bay was filled with sharp reefs which were almost miniature islands peaking above the waterline. In addition, the perimeter walls gave no place for landing a ship--they had been built quite literally on the rocks which fall into the sea.






I should also note that this happens to be the city, so some claim, that Jimi Hendrix wrote "Castles in the Sand". It was interesting to reflect upon this possibility as I gazed off into the horizon.
































Thursday, January 13, 2011

Decembre in Paris


We spent some time in Paris during late December. Here are some photos and thoughts. I'm thankful to have been able to see the snows of Paris, experiencing a winter true and unlike the climate of California.


"If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast. "
Ernest Hemingway


The Seine river
Her cold surface reflects the city's inhabitants
Through the crowded and narrow streets
At the river's brisk pace
The Parisians flow through the crooked
Bending city streets
The slumbering passengers making their way to work
Stare idly as the Seine passes
Weary eyed travelers lean on light posts
Weighted legs under tattered travel packs
They gaze
Looking far away
Eyes return to the map
They strain themselves in making the theoretic the actual