Admittedly, it’s not a phrase heard often. We southerners are famous for our charm worldwide, it seems, while northerners are known for their cold– in terms of temperature and personality. It’s over-simplistic, obviously, but let’s be real. Who has ever heard of “northern charm”?
Maybe, just maybe, anyone who has heard of Assilah.
Assilah is one of those places that makes you immediately reconsider wherever it is that you’re currently living. Do you have a well-preserved, ancient, coastal Portuguese fort that offers National Geographic-esque views of the ocean within walking distance? Is your city a geometric paradise of Pantone swatches and ever-changing murals? Are the stray cats as healthy as the children in your neighborhood? Fresh churros on every street corner for a pretty penny? A variety of art festivals happening pretty much all the time? Instagrammable nooks and crannies everywhere you turn? If the answer was no to any of the above, well, you may be satiated by other things like constitutionally-protected freedom of speech, but, come on. This VIEW!
Mustapha and I practically ran out of school at 3:30pm on a Friday to make our train to Assilah. It’s a mere 3.5ish hours away from Fes, but we felt like we were transported to Europe. Greece, maybe, or an imaginary Tuscan town that exists on the beach where people speak Arabic.
In Morocco, the train station of a destination can oftentimes set you up for whatever situation you’re about to walk into: Marrakech has an impressive design stuffed with McDonald’s and traditional caftan shops, where stepping outside means confronting the paparazzi-like commotion of taxi drivers promising a “special price just for you” in 18 languages; Fes is a quiet, regal structure that is beautiful in a simple way, and kinda doesn’t give a damn if you like it or not because it’s older than your entire lineage; Casablanca can’t be bothered to ever be clean or really be anything but an anxiety-inducing mess of people moving in every direction. Assilah, meanwhile, begs to be photographed from your first step off of the train. Blue and green tiles move up and down the white-washed building in perfect geometric harmony. It was a clean, simple structure whose presence proved immediately calming. There were a grand total of three green taxis waiting outside of the train station, and pretty much nothing but undeveloped land behind them. We ended up hopping into the fourth vehicle present in the lot. It was a white half-sedan, half-truck thing, with a super friendly guy who was like, “Hey, I’m not a taxi driver, but I’d be happy to take you into Assilah since I’m going there anyways.” A mother and her two children got in the car as well, which, in almost any situation, translates to: “This is safe. Put your crazy-ass American mind to rest– you’re not in a Lifetime move.” (Our completely illegitimate but personable driver took us straight to the medina, of course, so for now, the plot of my Lifetime movie legacy as yet to be determined).
Assilah is about a 5-minute drive from the train station with nothing much in between the two destinations. Mustapha and I checked into Christina’s House, a simple and lovely guest house in the new medina. We immediately took note of the extreme health of all of the neighborhood cats. These things put their American relatives to shame: big, healthy, and couldn’t care less if they’re blocking the doorway or road or whatever. Mustapha pointed out the large amount of neatly-arranged food that people leave out for the cats on their pristine doorsteps. Bowls of couscous, saucers of milk, and dishes of water are all put out and methodically collected in the morning. Let’s just say that dumpster-diving ain’t for Assilah’s bougie street cats.
Okay, I swear we did more than analyze the caloric intake and feeding patterns of the cats of Assilah. We spent a grand total of 1.5 days in this quaint place, and most of it was enjoyed wandering the streets of the old medina.
If it weren’t for the weather, I think the Mustapha and I would’ve forgotten to sit down and taste the local fare. Assilah is a town made for blue skies and white, puffy clouds. However, our weekend’s weather was genuine coastal moodiness: pouring rain, tempered by hot, direct sunlight, buffered by gray clouds…we saw everything. To escape the extremes– hot sunlight and pouring rain– we treated our stomachs to some rather delicious northern treats.
Our eating was essentially this: coffee and milk for breakfast, piping hot mint teas the size of our faces for a mid-morning rest, the most amazing fish tajine ever for lunch, wine, bread, and olive oil for dinner (out in PUBLIC!), and hot churros with bread and jabli cheese for breakfast. Everything fresh, everything delicious, everything insultingly cheap. I should also mention that, in the evening, the streets filled up with piles of fresh fish for the picking. If I published the prices here, there might be an uprising against the fish industry (as there very well should be). In other words, come visit me– and we’ll go to Assilah together.
No…but seriously. We’ll go anytime with anyone. This place is too beautiful to not be shared with more people. Below is photographic evidence that we had a blast basking in– dare I say it– the charm of the north.
