Essaouira

The contrast between the frenetic energy of Marrakech and the breezy, bohemian soul of Essaouira is striking. Driving two and a half hours west toward the Atlantic, the dry desert transforms into rolling argan forests dotted with goats playfully climbing tree branches. I checked into Heure Bleue Palais ($380/night), a member of Relais & Châteaux built into the historic medina walls, featuring an oasis-like palm courtyard and a heated rooftop pool looking out over the Atlantic ramparts.

I began my morning walking the Skala de la Ville, the impressive stone ramparts lined with 18th-century bronze Spanish and Portuguese cannons overlooking crashing ocean swells. Below in the fishing harbor, hundreds of wooden boats painted in vibrant cobalt blue bobbed in the water. Fishermen hauled in morning catches of sea bream, sardines, octopus, and spider crabs. At the open-air portside fish grills, I selected fresh jumbo prawns and grilled sea bass cooked over charcoal on the spot, served with crusty bread, lemon, and spicy harissa for just 120 MAD ($12).

In the afternoon, I wandered through the car-free, whitewashed medina with its distinctive blue shutters. Unlike other Moroccan medinas, Essaouira's grid layout feels relaxed and unhurried. I explored the artisan workshops of master carpenters carving fragrant thuya wood boxes inlaid with mother-of-pearl and lemonwood, before browsing contemporary Berber abstract art at Galerie d'Art Damgaard.

As late afternoon arrived, the trade winds picked up, drawing kite surfers who carved acrobatic arcs across the golden crescent bay. I settled onto the rooftop terrace of Taros Café with a chilled glass of Moroccan Gris wine (65 MAD), listening to live Gnawa-fusion guitar chords as the sun sank behind the offshore Mogador Islands. Essaouira is pure coastal poetry.