Storyline: Highlights of Morocco
Jan 15
I feel at home this morning. Mighty mountains, crisp fresh air, great views. The name Chefchaouen means “Look at the peaks”.
When I told Said that we may come back here to hike the RIF Mountains little did I know about the magic of the High Atlas Mountains that I’d see later on the tour. But yes, this was my immediate reaction: “I’d love to spend days here hiking!”
Today was our optional activity. Initially there were five of us signed up for it, but the most of rest of signed up yesterday, too.
We started our walk at around 8am after meeting our local guide in front of the hotel.
We walked through sleepy blue streets, interesting structures, houses, restaurants, walls, pylons and flowerpots. All blue! In the distance I noticed a spring/fountain where the early birds were piling their laundry to wash. Something we’ve forgotten about, the old way – hand wash and stone scrubbing. Women of course.
Blue was everywhere. Even some stones and rocks were painted blue. And as though prepared to blend into the landscape, many of our group were wearing blue too. I was the only contrasting walker with my red t-shirt; when of course it was warm enough to take my blue and grey layers off.
“So why is the city so blue”, Said asks, and then gives us a few theories. Well, aside from the theories of how all this started, it is blue for us the tourists, he says. And I think this is a very credible explanation. In the past we were told, in the Medina there were a few blue houses that began attracting the tourists’ attention. Much later (If I remember well it was in this century), the local government decreed that any exterior painting must be in blue or white. There are several theories for the initial origin of blue. One of the beliefs is that the Jewish refugees spread the blue through the Medina in the 1930s. They stick to their religion and painted their houses blue, as blue represents the sky and heaven. Then, some believe that the blue shades repel mosquitoes.
However, mosquitoes are still present. Yet another belief is that the blue protects from the heat. Or the colour just represents the water – the waters of the Mediterranean Sea or Ras el-Maa Waterfall. Or just for aesthetic purposes. According to Islamic culture, blue represents optimism and happiness. Whichever you like. But I tend to believe that it was done en masse to attract tourists.
We continue uphill as the blue city reveals its morning beauty. Our first goal is the Spanish Mosque. This whitewashed structure overlooks the old town from its prominent position on a hill, and once out of the last city structures, walls, and agaves, we could spot it in the distance, appearing tilted by perspective and decorated with blossoming almond trees.
The view from the mosque over the city was great, but the sun was in the wrong position for good photos. Sunset, we were told, was the best time for photography from this vantage point. We couldn’t make it back for this spectacle, although Alex would have been happy to take some night shots.
From the mosque we continued hiking up the valley, passing through villages, farms, rocks and more. The local guide would tell us about the vegetation in the areas, the famous pine trees, oaks and cork trees, etc. We passed many people on mules or leading loaded mules, women with goats, women carrying huge bunches of sticks on their heads, etc.
The guide told us not to take photos of the people.
At many places people are shy and it makes sense to ask before taking a close photo. But the reason here was completely different.
We were hiking through areas where “Mint Tea” (an agricultural product that can be smoked or used as an ingredient in baking, drink production etc. that was illegal in Canada until a year or so ago, and is unrelated to mint tea that is so popular in Morocco) was grown.
This cash crop is apparently necessary from a subsistence perspective, but is also still illegal and locals don’t want to be accidentally identified to the police through innocently posted photos on social media. “Mint Tea” is grown in rotation with other crops and is harvested here in late summer.
As we hiked, we passed through several small villages, laughing with kids who watched us wide-eyed. “¡Hola!”, one would call. “¡Hola! ¿Como estas?”(man, those Spanish classes were worth it!) Silence…I guess the Spanish influence on northern Morocco only goes so far.
Everywhere there was a small hut or barn, there was the sound of hammering…turning dried “Mint Tea” into ha$h. I’m not a fan of the product but the aroma was not unpleasant.
We hiked up the valley for two and a half hours before we reached the village where we’d have lunch in a local gite (French for gite d’etape, or staging post: a no-frills hostel). Even as we ate, one could hear the constant hammering of dried “Mint Tea”.
We had wonderful tagine lunch and chat in the open air, although it was a little cool in the breeze when clouds periodically obscured the sun.
On our way back to the city we were taken by Land Rover down through a valley on very steep and broken trails. I barely survived, but the road down wasn’t as long as the one we hiked up on the other side of the mountain.
We arrived at our hotel shaken, not stirred, and prepared for our free afternoon exploring the Medina.
Loved Chefchaouen. In January there were hardly any tourists and it felt as a gem of calm and quiet under the peaks of the mountains. If we go back to Morocco one day, I’d love to spend a week hiking through these mountains.
Great post 🙂