Journey to Chefchaouen!

alistar — Thu, 26 Feb 2015 10:06:00 GMT

Sounds of the Tangier's in the bus station was an odd song, harsh but melodic. Not like the calm stations of Europe, the place is chaotic, dirty, and more men from the companies than customers. The robed men walked past us as we sat waiting for the one o'clock bus... their eyes are big, staring, with interest or awareness we were tourists. I've noticed in this part not all women cover their hair. Most do but I have seen one girl covered and another not, walking side by side. For those that cover themselves, they express themselves through their colourful socks and footware.

Bartering here is a skill. We tried to get a taxi for 200dhl but no luck all would not go lower than 500dlh. So the bus was our path to the mountain village! The bus was full when we got on, mostly all men, and the guy in charge of the seats and luggage (had to pay 20dhl for each item) asked people to give seats to us... People had gotten on without paying.

The ride was about three in a half hours long. I saw so many stereotypes through the window. Men packing their goods on their donkeys, two donkeys kissing, though they barely could touch one another, a massive flea market with women dressed head to tie in traditional looking Mexican ware of this region, and kids playing football in the middle of nowhere. The landscape is massive as we passed through the mountains. Even when we stopped, life didn't seem to slow down! Food sellers came on shoving toffees or cakes in our faces one such man was older and spoke French Spanish and English.

Finally got to Chefchaouen. And the fun in finding a place to stay began. We were escorted by a guy called billy to the travellers hostel so we looked, the people are indeed very friendly, then we asked a German couple on the street where they were staying and after a hotel we came across casa amina. It's a little house full of yellow and blue decore with an open living room, couches decorated with royal flower motifs. Suddenly a older man in a grey robe appeared, his smile was very friendly, name Abd Malik, and he said we could sleep on the couches for 30dhl each!!

Venturing out we saw what they meant of it being the blue medina, the colour closer to God. Blue shops with leather bags, large wool coats, hats, and wooden instruments lined the alleyways. The dress of the people were similar to Tangier but maybe less traditional. We had dinner in a small little place called Granada where the smiling chef was across from us preparing our cous cous and tagine. The night here is where the locals do come out especially from seven to eleven the shops are open and rounding little corners to see weavers or barbers chopping hair is really intriguing. We found more street food outside the medina this warm chickpea cake you put cumin on, a sweet cous cous cake, and snails.

Welcome to Tangier! To Moroccan Africa.

alistar — Wed, 25 Feb 2015 12:29:00 GMT

Wow. Those are my words to describe my first full day here in Tangier. After arriving early evening the day before, venturing out along the main market street I knew I had arrived in a place unlike what I have ever encountered. Taking that memorable step onto Africa from the boat from Tarifa was one thing but we were flung into it completely... With three men escourting us to the hostel, to other robed men shouting to trust these men, to men being everywhere staring persistently.

Morning was greeted by Moroccan sweet mint tea. Delight at anytime. After chilling at the hostel with guitar music we went straight into the medina. The buildings were friendly in the day all painted different colours, the walls are the stories of the people, children draw on them.... Numbers littered the walls. Each corner you rounded there was a small home made shop crammed full of food or a bakery. Men wearing the popular robed dress, all different colours, were everywhere. It has a seedy, old, falling apart atmosphere. Women, not all cover their hair surprisingly, most do but I think it's more relaxed here because we are at a port. Walking is how you see the culture. We saw men enter the mosque at a different entrance than women and all must take off their shoes. Then as pray finished there was a loud sing song and turning we say a procession of men carrying bodies all wrapped in a beautiful green garment... Commemoration of the passing.

We came across a local soon after. Such a character and definitely a story to tell. We went up the Kasbah with this Richard and drank Mint Tea watching the sunset at Cafe Hafa. Here people drink little alcohol and it's refreshing... After all it's muslim.

Richard then invited us to his house... kitch but lovely interior with great tiles on the walls and flowered couches... After eating Tajine and three servings of tea and having Hemma painted... We got a taste of jazz music. It was curious to see the specific roles of each member... the father was definantly the master of his home and had free will to ask anything.

An adventure into the house of a Moroccan... Tea, food, and observations.

What Africa is... Well it's colour in life, it's vibrant in life and sound and smell. For me, it's walking the steps of my grandma who travelled this way. Let this begin.

I want to see the World

Journey to Chefchaouen!

Welcome to Tangier! To Moroccan Africa.