Chefchaouen

Road to Chefchaouen

After the whitewashed boulevards of Casablanca and Rabat, the ochre houses of Marrakech, and the turquoise hues on the roof tiles, it’d be a pity to miss the indigo blue that covers the city of Chefchaouen. I’d spend two and a half days in this small city, strolling lazily instead of pushing myself through continuous and hurried journeys like other destinations.

I went to the Rabat bus station quite early, though the bus would only depart at 3pm. Even if I had lunch very slowly, I still had to kill time on its second floor, while my body was still aching from the illness the night before.

This would be a five-hour afternoon trip across the relatively dull and barren plains. The bus would stop at Souk El Arbaa and Ouazzane for you to step outside, breathe some fresh air, and stretch your back. A special sight was the two rows of eucalyptus trees shading along the R408 Route, looking so poetic and cool amidst the bare yellowing fields.

As night fell and only the faint lights from the roadside houses remained, the bus began climbing up to enter the Rif Mountains, and that meant Chefchaouen was just around the corner. From afar, I could see the whole city lighting up on the mountainside, a magical scene that could only be appreciated in person.

The bus stopped at the station, and passengers started scrambling to get into the taxis waiting to take them to the Medina. No matter which taxi you take, the driver will only drop you off at the parking lot near the Kasbah in the center of the Medina, and to get to the hotel, you’ll have to navigate through the maze of the city on foot with your luggage. Fortunately, I had booked a room at the nearby Barcelona Hotel, so I didn’t have to walk too far; after some initial confusion with the alleys and shortcuts, I finally breathed a sigh of relief and rested in a room that was not very well-equipped.

It’s already quite late and I hadn’t eaten anything yet, so I walked out to the Uta el-Hammam Square and randomly chose one of the many bustling restaurants there. It was Sunday and there was a U20 World Cup quarterfinal match between Morocco and the USA, so the place was packed; being immersed in this lively atmosphere was truly one of a kind, but it also meant waiting a long time for the shrimp tagine to be served.

Amidst the Blue Maze

In Chefchaouen, the best thing to do is simply to walk, walk, and discover the ‘blind boxes’ hidden behind the alleys and archways. Aimlessly, leisurely, without worrying about where to check in.

Nicknamed ‘The Blue City’, the houses here are all covered in a striking indigo blue paint. Some say this paint helps repel mosquitoes, but there’s also a hypothesis that the Jewish people painted it blue to symbolize the sky and heaven, or simply because the authority demanded all houses to be painted blue for tourism.

Nestled between the blue walls are colorful shops selling woven rugs, soaps, pigments, and spices. You can find the black soap (savon beldi) that has a sticky consistency like glue, made from olive oil and macerated olives. In the morning, I also had my first experience at a hammam (public bath) at Hammam Ben Aazzouz. When I arrived, there was no one else there, and I ended up being thoroughly scrubbed by an elderly local man. The price for a bath like that is 150 MAD, equivalent to a spa session, but the experience is something you won’t find at any fancy spa.

Every step you take opens up a charming photo spot. Not only the blue color, but also the sunlight filtering through the leaves makes the scenery look like a painting. You don’t have to rush to visit museums or workshops here, just take a leisurely stroll.

One of the things this city takes pride in is its doors. They come in all shapes and sizes, adorned with intricately decorated door handles. Behind each door are stories of culture and history, and the hospitality of the local residents. If you come by a souvenir shop, you can even buy tiny doors that fit in the palm of your hand.

Some photo spots look quite pretty because they’re cleverly arranged, but if you want to pose there, you’ll need to pay a few MAD.

In Chefchaouen, there are things built with a strong sense of community: public water fountains, baths, and ovens. You can easily find public fountains decorated in the characteristic blue and white mosaic tiles, such as the one in El Haouta Square.

If comparing it to another famous monochromatic place like Santorini, I still find Santorini more photogenic, perhaps because the facades of the houses in Chefchaouen look quite rough and not very neat.

When you feel tired from walking, take a break at a café with balcony, order a glass of the local specialty mint tea, and watch this city slowly go about its life.

Being here felt just like a childhood imagination of mine: a tiny city with houses and families nestled close together. You have a few charming schools tucked away in quiet corners, a square and a mosque at the center - not big but enough for everyone to gather around. Just walk a few hundred meters and you’re already at the edge of the city, and who knows if some dark force is lurking outside the city, haha.

The Cats of Chefchaouen

I have a whole collection of cat photos in Chefchaouen. They’re so numerous yet not dangerous at all. Lying around basking in the sun and enjoying hours of laziness, they appear as beautiful subjects against the bright blue walls.

Here are some cats dozing off at noon:

A pregnant cat, striking a model-like pose:

Nor could I forget the dogs. Although it’s an Islamic country, the dogs here are treated no less than the cats, just that there’re fewer of them.

Alone with the Sunset

With two days in Chefchaouen, I was wondering where to go for the two promisingly photogenic sunsets. Finally, on the first day, I chose to climb up the slope to the old city wall at north, where there’re watchtowers and it’s also the place where you can almost have the whole city to yourself.

When the afternoon was still bright, at least on the old city wall, it wasn’t just me. Besides me, there’s another couple, and sometimes a glimpse of a local person with a rugged look sitting under a tree. Perhaps if it were in Vietnam, this place would’ve become a lucrative spot for street vendors by now.

The late afternoon sun gently poured over the valley and the city nestled on the mountainside, creating a sweet atmosphere. The blue houses stood close together, with the brownish-yellow color of the Kasbah standing out in the middle.

When the sun had set behind the mountain peak, the sky donned beautiful colors. And it turned out at that moment, I was the only one left standing on the old city wall. I was in no hurry to leave, as always, because the beautiful things were surely still waiting.

Night fell, the faint street lights illuminated a man quietly looking out over the city below. And another person was herding sheep back to the pen.

Breathing the Air beyond the City Wall

Ras El Ma

On the second morning, after getting familiar with the alleys of the city, I decided to head to Ras El Ma (meaning ‘head of the water’), a small waterfall located on the northeastern edge of the city. Visitors just need to walk uphill along the stream to reach it.

The scenery here wasn’t particularly special. There’re some bustling restaurants and souvenir shops. What caught my attention was the juice stand, where fresh, plump oranges were swimming in water, looking very eye-catching.

Bouzafer Mosque

I concluded my relaxing days in Chefchaouen with an experience that couldn’t be disappointing: watching the sunset from Bouzafer Mosque.

If keeping walking along the old city wall, or following the trail along the mountainside from Ras El Ma, I’d reach Bouzafer Hill. This was probably the busiest place at sunset in this city, even more lively than the central square.

The mountainside trail opened up a beautiful view of the city. The houses shimmered under the sunlight, peeking through the bushes. I hesitated whether to linger and take photos or to keep going, because the scenery was too beautiful to miss, but surely if I reached the hill early, the view would be even better.

There’re a few little juice stands around, and the mosque is only open during prayer times. Almost every tourist gathered here, chatting, appreciating the sunset, and gazing at the houses then appeared as small as Lego pieces.

Night had fallen, but the city of Chefchaouen still looked beautiful with an entire mountainside sparkling with lights.

So I once again strolled back to the hotel alone after the sunset moment, preparing to return to Casablanca and end this trip. On the way back, somewhere within the maze, the sound of children reciting lessons from a tutoring class still echoed.

Passing through the Fog

On my last morning, I had to wake up early to head to the bus station while the moon and stars were still clearly visible. The bus ride from Chefchaouen to Casablanca would take six hours, departing at 7am and arriving at 1pm.

The first few kilometers weren’t so remarkable, just mountains still bearing the deep blue color of early morning, and as the sun rose, it revealed the barren hills surrounding the winding road.

But as the bus descended to an altitude of about 200-300m above sea level, the magical scenery of Morocco unfolded before my eyes - and this time, sitting in the front row, I got to see the full beauty of it - a vast barren plain blanketed in mist.

I call these life’s serendipities. The serendipity of witnessing a beautiful phenomenon, a beautiful scenery we haven’t prepared for at all.

It’s such a surreal scene when the bus glided through the eucalyptus trees along the road, and the rusty old cars came into view, like a scene from a 20th-century film.

As midday approached, the fog faded; passing through the coastal cities of Kenitra, Rabat, and Mohammedia, the bus returned to Casablanca under a gentle sunny noon. It was a smooth trip, filled with delightful surprises.