Chefcaouen, Morocco

Last weekend, we took the ferry from Spain to Tangier, 
and drove with a guide to Chefcaouen, Morocco.
We fell in love with this place...

Mustafa was our personal driver/guide. For the 3-hour 
trip from Tangier to Chefcaouen, we spoke openly with Mustafa 
about Islam, women's rights, the sheep sacrifice that took place 
the weekend before, and politics. He was proud that Morocco was so 
progressive. Jews, Muslims, and Christians live side by side here 
without conflict. Women can drive, work for the same wages 
as men, and also have the right to seek divorce. The time we 
spent learning about his country was a highlight of the weekend. 

Nestled in the Rif mountains, Chefcaouen is painted 
in shades of beautiful blue.

According to Mustafa, people with money have moved
 out of the town. Those that remain are poor.
We thought we'd see mainly older people, but we saw plenty of
 children playing in the streets (it was a Saturday).

This is one of our favorite photos. 
Chefcaouen is about color, texture and imperfection. 

Locals did not want their pictures taken. 
We respected their wishes, of course (or tried to...) 
But it was so tempting to photograph the people we saw: 
Berber women with traditional garb, country women 
with big straw hats, men in long djellabas, women in scarves, 
and a few in full blue burkas. 
So different and exotic. 

We couldn't resist...

Children taking home bread (hidden under the cloth).

Local women do their laundry in this river that runs 
through Chefcaouen.We saw women washing their clothes, 
then hanging them on trees to dry.

Pigment for paint colors inside and outside the home.

We had a phenomenal lunch at Casa Hassan. This was Deb's 
bowl of couscous, almonds,currants and chicken.
 Food, overall, in Morocco was delicious.
We never had a bad (or even mediocre) meal.
Most of Morocco is dry, but they sure like their Cokes!

In Chefcaouen, Mustafa handed us over to an able local guide.
Abu Salam was a spry 72. He took us around the town 
and into the mountains.
 He seemed to know everyone, and in his care, no one ever 
bothered or hassled us.
 (He gave us permission to take this photo). 

We could have done an entire photo essay 
on the doors in this town. 
This one was just one of the beauties.

Pottery was aplenty. These are a few of the pieces 
we bought (in Tangier).
All hand painted in Fes (Fez). 

Another irresistible blue view. We took 
hundreds of photos.
 It was hard to pick just a few.

The Hat Man store is famous here for, you guessed it, hats.

Another shot in blue.

We love our door knockers. We've photographed 
many in Spain, and found a few goodies in Morocco.

At the end of the day, we drove back to Tangier 
and didn't say much in the car. 
When you get bombarded by so much that is exotic and new, 
you need to quietly sit with it for awhile. 
Winding through the mountains, we passed 
men plowing fields with their mules, 
others drinking sweet mint tea in dilapidated bars,
 and locals selling huge bags of onions along the roadside. 
This kind of foreign travel leaves you feeling
 exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. 
It was a terrific weekend.


(Fez in February, here we come....:)