the Potter’s Hill in Safi
THE HANDCRAFTED TABLEWARE OF OUR BOUTIQUE HOTEL IN ESSAOUIRA
ON THE ROAD TO SAFI
In Morocco, meals are shared around one central dish, everyone helping themselves, bread in hand instead of a fork… Individual plates were never really part of the culture.
And yet, for our boutique hotel Riad Eucalyptus in Essaouira , we needed beautiful plates. Something raw, authentic, and genuinely meaningful.
So Monsef and Abdou told us, “Go to Safi. That’s where the heart of Moroccan pottery beats .”
A wild road leading to the pottery capital
One morning, we left Essaouira following the coastal road. If you go, choose this route — it’s breathtaking: cliffs, hidden coves, sleepy sun-drenched villages, and goats wandering freely. And if you have a wandering soul, stop at a roadside stall for a tea or a tajine.
Several of our guests at Riad Eucalyptus have taken this road on our recommendation. They came back with sparkling eyes — and pockets full of spices.
Safi, the potters’ hill
Safi isn’t a postcard city. There are no Instagrammable riads here, no perfectly restored Medina in warm tones.
But climb the potters’ hill, and you step into another world.
At the bottom, small shops display their creations — raw ceramics, modern pieces, traditional hand-painted dishes… You’ll find everything, from the simplest designs to the most flamboyant.
Our advice: take your time, talk to people. Let yourself be approached. A man will come to you — always kindly — and invite you to visit “his uncle’s workshop.” Whether it’s true or not, say yes. That’s where the adventure begins.
The workshop, where clay becomes a story
You push open an old wooden door: beaten-earth floor, darkened walls, harsh light filtering through a tin roof. In the courtyard, a man kneads clay in a cement basin. He wets it, works it like bread dough, then spreads it out in the sun. The living material is cut into blocks that the potters will throw on the wheel, one by one.
Further inside, in a dim room, an old man makes his hands dance over the potter’s wheel. He doesn’t speak. He works. And before our eyes, a block of earth becomes a cup, a bowl, a plate.
It’s dusty, chaotic — but beautiful. A Zola-like setting, full of humanity and purposeful silence.
Time standing still
Here, no one negotiates. You look, you touch, you exchange smiles.
And little by little, among the rickety shelves, you begin to recognise “our” plates. Simple, imperfect, real. Pieces with a life in them.
One artisan quietly tells us: “We can make a special series for you. With your name. We’ll prepare a prototype.”
And that was it. That’s how the dinnerware of our boutique hotel — the Riad Eucalyptus — was born. The plates in which you might enjoy a pastilla or a honey-soaked msemen tomorrow.
Each piece carries a fragment of that day.
A taste for “the beautiful”
We drove back with crates full of pottery — but above all with the memory of a place suspended in time, of ancestral gestures, of dust and fire.
An unfussy, unromanticized craft, still alive simply because hands keep repeating it, day after day.
If you come visit us in Essaouira, we’ll share the address with you.
And even better — if you stay with us, you’ll discover this handcrafted tableware in our restaurant, during breakfast or at dinner, served in the garden or by the pool of Riad Eucalyptus.
