Into the Blue

10 September, 2014

Leaving Fes behind, there was a (relatively!) short drive into the Rif Mountains to Chefchaouen. The countryside changed. Whereas we’d been travelling through land where, so I was told, crops grew in season in what looked totally infertile land, now I was seeing olive groves, sheep grazing (in fenced paddocks, not herded by nomads seeking feed for their livestock), cattle, crops growing or evidence of harvest, haystacks, tilled soil. Water! Green!! And gum trees – again! Both as roadside plantings and plantations.

Crops

Haystacks

Eucalypt plantation!

There were even gum trees planted in avenues along the roadside!

Heading towards the Rif Mountains ....

... the traffic was, um, interesting!

Sheep transport

Traffic jam!

Chefchaouen is in a valley between two mountains with the centre of town seemingly (not sure if it actually is!) three quarters of the way up one of the slopes. Approaching the town, it’s not so much blue as white daubed with a variety of blue hues. 

Welcome to Chefchaouen

Looking across the valley -
the trees in the middle are in the square
where I rested and had dinner

A small patch of level ground

Once you’re walking around though, it seems very blue indeed as the lower stories of buildings, doorways, building features are … blue. Parking was at a premium which meant Hami couldn’t park where he wanted to. Unfortunately, that meant he became my slave as he carried my bags up a steep hill to my riad. I did apologise 😦

Hami struggling up the hill

I say riad but this one was more like a hotel. It was very small, no real courtyard to speak of, a lightwell to let light and air – and noise – into rooms. Not the best hotel in that the doors and windows were poorly sealed, i.e. warped with age, they didn’t fit the spaces very well, so some very noisy guests were right in my ears, so to speak. But there was a stunning handbasin – gleaming copper. Someone had used a lot of elbow grease on it. And a pity I'd turned on the taps to wash my hands before I took the photo!

Gleaming copper

This was a designated rest day – and I needed it after that climb (with me lugging only my day pack!). After a bit of rest and refresh, Hami took me on a walk along the walls of the medina. Then he left me at the Plaza Outa El Hammam, in the centre of town, where I alternated between resting and exploring. I did explore a little more than I intended when I got lost in the twists and turns of the alleyways leading back to my hotel!

I'll take the high road ... or ramparts, in this case

Rugs drying after being washed

Riverside cafes

Hilltop mosque

Shades of blue! The water tap surrounds were blue – but no tiles. Mosaic work wasn’t in evidence here at all, as far as I could see.

The leather bags were beautiful. I’d have loved to buy one but …. I didn’t need another bag, I had no luggage room to spare … and the tan colour goes with nothing that I wear.

I did my first bit of people watching in the square while I was waiting for the kasbah to open. The world went by as I sipped a cooling drink. Not the fizzy sort! Bad for both people and donkeys!!

Back in the day, Chefchaouen was on the hippy trail. And they still keep coming. A few dreadlocked and tattooed people wandered by. I suspect they smoke funny cigarettes too.

At one stage, commenting on these young people, I said to Hami: “What would you do if your daughter (then 2) , when she is 18 or 20, says ‘Papa, I want to go to Chefchaouen with my boyfriend.’?” Oh how I laughed! Hami’s face was priceless. Almost apoplectic at the thought, he managed to produce a resounding “NO!!!!” The “terrible twos” might not seem so terrible one day 🙂

Straight ahead - the cafe where I had both afternoon tea and dinner.

A great people watching vantage point.

Central square -
Kasbah to the right, partly hidden by trees.

Patterned pavement is fairly common.

The Grande Mosque was to my right. It looked almost brand new. I was more than a little shocked to learn it was built in 1560 and the tower (minaret!) added in the 1700s. They’ve obviously kept up the maintenance.

The things you learn. Somewhere on a mosque, the tower or minaret if there is one, there is a metal attachment with a short bit. That ‘bit’, whatever shape it be – straight or fancy curves of some sort – points to Mecca.

Mosque entrance -
turrets are on the tower of the kasbah, behind the mosque

Pointing to Meccca

When the kasbah opened later in the afternoon, I joined quite a few others in exploring. There are great views over Chefchaouen and the surrounding area from the tower and the upper floors.

Entrance to the kasbah

Looking back out through the entrance

Looking down on Mosque and square

The museum was well maintained, small but interesting, but as a whole the kasbah seemed a little tired. A cafeteria is marked on the plan but that’s been crossed out. I would have thought it a good location for such an establishment, for tourists if not for locals. The gardens are quite good but a little extra effort, and turning on the fountain, would have the exterior looking a showpiece. The water cisterns however – best not mentioned.

The library was well-stocked but unfortunately closed. It looked to be still in use as an office. 

There were small displays of guns, musical instruments and earthenware vessels, as well as some furniture. A small wall shelf was astonishingly beautiful.

I loved the floor tiles too. The kasbah was built in 1471. I could imagine the tiles being that old – although they probably weren’t.

The prison, on the other hand ….. sent shudders up my spine, seeing how inmates were shackled.

Prison tower

Cell and shackles

Lucky! No shackles for me. After dinner I was going to a very comfortable bed, road-tested earlier in the afternoon 🙂

But I was going to bed sad. I loved the rural, desert areas so much and now they were well and truly behind me. Not only that, this tour was coming to an end. I anticipated the coming days as a race to Casablanca, a race I didn’t want to finish.

Despite the heat, so many bedrooms are decorated in hot colours