Road to Chefchaouen

Friday, February 2. (Exercised. Hurray!) Morocco has lots of scenery that’s no different than many other countries. In other words, it’s not all sand dunes and desert. Didn’t even see a camel. Our drive out of Casablanca was typical narrow streets like any city in Europe, followed by a very modern, very new expressway. After turning off to more local roads we encountered many, many two-wheeled carts pulled by either a horse or donkey. This was mostly farmland, i.e., very green. Lots of sheep. The cattle (and horses) looked on the scrawny side, contrasting with what I saw in Mongolia. Lunch was outdoors at a barbecue establishment where they demonstrated how the meal was prepared. Bread was fresh and soft, vegetables was steamed to perfection, followed by slightly spiced ground beef with a covering of tomatoes and onions. Olives of various varieties. Water.

After lunch we turned off the main road and began climbing the hills and mountains to Chefchaouen. There were more than a few RVs heading south, indicating that there is a middle class in the country. Had some mint tea for the first time. Perhaps the best tea I have ever had. Need more. We crossed the demarkation between what was once French occupied Morocco and Spanish occupied Morocco.

Chaouen, as the natives call it, is nestled at the feet of some tall mountains, which are minor peaks below snow capped ones within the Rif Range. The buildings are blue. It’s cold here (50s?) The hotel is an old mansion. Very pretty. The rooms are small but adequate. Cold tile floors. Incredibly hot water.

Our guide gave us a quick walking tour of the town, which is built on a hillside with a bubbling brook flowing rapidly but not too loudly down the middle. There are historical markers in English! Though the confusion of streets/alleys look imposing there’s really only so many ways to go: getting lost isn’t a real risk. A 600 year-old casbah (castle/fort) sits in it’s center. (More on all this tomorrow.)

Being the moslem “Sunday” the mosques were well used. Chanting was a common background sound which made it feel more foreign and exotic. At one of the restaurant patios a collection of women were celebrating some event with song and laughter, giving the whole community a welcoming, very personal touch. Only one restaurant serves alcohol. I saw a “Sports bar” that didn’t have a bar. I’m not in Kansas, that’s for sure.

Dinner in the hotel was Moroccan soup, seafood squeezed together and grilled (with pasta? It was dark), and delicious chocolate creme. With bread and olives. And water. (Seeing a trend?)