Chefchaouen

Our next drive was 75k over the Rif Mountains (the word “ruffian” comes from the people of this area) to Chefchaouen, known as the blue town, because everything is painted blue.  The journey took no more than two hours but the scenery became more and more dramatic the higher we climbed and, at last, the weather improved.  It happened to be a local holiday and we saw many families out and about, often waving to us as we drove by.  DD Ray said that some of them may not be merely waving but rather trying to sell their crop – cannabis!  We haven’t touched the stuff since that Christmas when . . . .  Roadside stalls were also selling pomegranates, strings of onions and terracotta pottery.

We continued to drive up and up – and up some more until we found the campsite at the top of a hill overlooking the old town.  The sun was shining and the weather remained warm and sunny for the afternoon and we were able to sit out enjoying the balmy evening, looking down at the lights of the town.  Tony cooked steaks on the barbecue with fried onions and aubergines.  Wonderful!

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