Chefchouaen is what I refer to as the mic-drop of charming Moroccan villages – it doesn’t get any more picturesque than this place. Worth the loooooooong bus ride to this, nicknamed, Blue City.
Chefchaouen has an interesting history. Seated in a valley in the Rif Mountains, it was founded in the 15th century to defend against Portuguese invasions in Morocco. Portuguese and Spanish Jews fled here during the Spanish Inquisition, and the city remained closed to all foreign influence until 1920. At that time, locals were found to be speaking Castilian Spanish dialects that were four hundred years old!
No one knows for sure, but the city is supposedly painted blue to reflect the sky and the water. Whatever the reason, the effect is absolutely stunning.
After a wonderful lunch of goat couscous (couscous Friday!), we spent our remaining time simply wandering all the alleyways of the city.
We visited a local weaving shop, where Trip got his first head wrap (which will make a lovely table runner at home), and I later bought one of the beautiful local red and white wool wrap skirts (also more likely to wind up on a table at home).
And of course, more cats….
We tried to drink ‘Moroccan whisky’ (mint tea), but were stymied by all the bees that swarmed to the sweet drink, and we gave up.
And we had a little excitement when the local ATM ate our debit card. Luckily the staff were able to retrieve it and we were able to get cash (how else were we going to buy those fabulous scarves and skirts!?).
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