Spent the morning lounging around Essaouira, eating, having coffee, I bought a paper, etc. Out of curiosity I walked into a couple surf shop (the guidebook claims Essaouira is the best wind surfing spot in the world). The first one could have been in Newport beach for the stock and the prices. The second one was a little funkier and was run by a Moroccan (the first was staffed by a couple Aussies). I found a pair of Quicksilver board shorts and asked the price - 100 Dinhars (~US$10). I quickly found another pair. I wouldn't bet on their authenticity, but if they're counterfeit I can't tell.
Early afternoon we left Tristan and Alison and headed for Agadir. We ended up catching a grand taxi since the money wasn't much more and it would be a lot quicker and somewhat more comfortable. Unfortunately our driver who claimed to not speak French, and couldn't seem to understand the Arabic or Berber of the girls drove right through Agadir and tried to drop us off 15km South in Inezgane, where by coincidence he would have no problem finding a return fare. There was discussion of getting out and taking a petit cab back, but I wasn't in the best mood and absolutely refused to get out anywhere but Agadir. When we didn't get out are driver could suddenly speak French and quite the argument ensued. He claimed that we had told him we wanted to go to Inezgane which was absurd since I hadn't even ever heard of it before. Eventually he drove us to Agadir, then demanded more money - we just walked away.
Agadir is thoroughly modern and nondescript. Apparently the original city was completely destroyed by a earthquake in 1960. It is over run with tourists (mostly the package tour variety), very expensive and the people are not the typical hospitable friendly Moroccans, in fact the city seems to have very little of Morocco left in it. Its claim to fame is a long sandy beach. It's nice, but pretty unremarkable as far as beaches go. Having said that, I am looking forward to spending tomorrow there...
The girls went off to have diner on their own, and I spent some time exploring the neighborhood. Besides a small food souq with the required animal carcasses I found nothing that would indicate I was in Morocco.