Mon nouveau familie d'Essaouira

Poster of the festival
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With the festival Gnaoua visitors pouring into this small beach town rooms are going for a premium.  Reservations meant I had to move and so the lady at my hotel took Tara, a  young American woman I met in the evening before at the hotel and myself  first to her house which was far into town and a share with her and her two daughters which was not a favorite option.  Then she took us just down the street from our current digs to an apartment.  We jumped at it with the intention of getting roomies to share the cost of 700 dirhams a night.  Once the landlord got wind of this the kabosh was put on our plans.  Eventually the landlord gave me back the one day deposit but I got badmouthed in the neighborhood.

castle rock on the beach
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We ended up in another apartment with the two of us, two Moroccans one a guy I met in Marrakech and one a romantic connection of Tara's.  Then we met another American, Peter from San Francisco who has been traveling the world also.  The five of us took the place for 3 nights.  It ain't no beauty of a place.  The bathroom in particular with shower lurking over squat toilet takes a bit of talent to maneuver in.  Still  the views from the terrace make me happy.

Hey Mister want a camel ride?
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So yesterday I had the pleasure of laying on a couch all afternoon and not being out on the street somewhere.  It was a nice change of pace.  Our two Moroccan roomates made Tajine for us all and we had tea and played war with the deck of cards I bought with my last Seychelles rupees.   Tara and Peter are both new age wonks and we talked boddhisatva talk for hours.

The music festival started late in the night and we wandered about in the thickening crowd for a bit looking in on our neighborhood stage.  The music of Gnaoua which can be spelled various ways on various posters is multiple drumming with a male dancer doing subtle footwork.  The music of each dance is short maybe 5 minutes.  Most of the dancers are older guys but at one point a couple of young boys were prancing up there with their father and grandfather.  The music speeds to a crescendo to an abrupt stop.  Balconys look down on the well lit stage and the crowd is full of families as well as loads of dreadhead Moroccan beach boys bouncing to the music they must have heard as children.