When most Westerners think of Morocco, we picture camels, the Sahara, and the old French colonialism of Casablanca. Mentions of the country rarely evoke images of soaring mountains and ice-cold streams of fresh spring water. This is probably because very few of us have ever even heard of Chefchaouen, the destination for our final trip, and a place that goes against all the stereotypes of Morocco.
The name Chefchaouen actually comes from Berber, given that they are, or at least were, the ethnic and linguistic majority in the area. It means “Look! Two horns!” and refers to the two mountains that rise up on either side of the city like horns.
After getting in late and enjoying a nice dinner on Friday night, we decided to get up early Saturday morning to hike up one of these two horns. Even though it is in the mountains, Chaouen (as it is often called) can get extremely warm during the day, so we wanted to beat the sun. The early start also afforded us the opportunity to see the city without any tourists or shopkeepers to hassle us. The whole city is painted in blue, similar to Asilah, but to an even greater degree.
The hike started out easily enough, snaking us around the mountain until we reached a less steep area that facilitated our climb. Nonetheless, after an hour and a half, we were all pretty tired and reaching the toughest section.
We climbed up a cleft in a high cliff and stepped out of the shadows into the glaring sun. After a moment of adjustment, we saw the beautiful view before us. There was a small valley in between the two peaks, and in the distance, the blue of Chaouen was still just as striking as it had been when we were walking through it in the early morning. This was definitely one of the high points of the trip (no pun intended).
Our climb down was a bit more challenging as we tried not to slip and slide off the edge of the mountain.
As if this wasn't enough, we also ran into a huge herd of goats that were taking over the small path. We stood for about 15 minutes as they slowly made their way past. As I watched, I was amazed at how, even with hooves, they were able to climb rocks and perch in precarious positions with an agility that none of us humans could muster. Further down, the goatherds watched, probably laughing to themselves about the ridiculous Americans that were being challenged by a route that they traverse every day.
After making it back to the city, we headed to R'as al-Maa (literally "Head of the water"), a stream outside the city walls that is fed by the natural springs that make Chaouen famous. The water was freezing cold and a welcome respite from the midday heat. We stood with our feet in the water as we watched children play and women washing laundry and enormous carpets. It seemed that the whole town had headed to the stream. A bit further on, a group of young men broke out in song, dancing and beating their drums until they collapsed into the water.
That evening, we were treated to a delicious dinner of --wait for it-- tagines, and went into the busy night to explore the town. Megan, one of my program friends, had actually brought along her friend who was visiting Morocco and was coincidentally a UA graduate. I spent the rest of the night hanging out with them and reveling in even a fleeting connection to home. We found a fantastic cafe with a terrace that overlooked one of the main roads and the kasbah. The man who ushered us in, Mo'ad, was incredibly friendly and decided to sit and chat with us for a while. As it turned out, he didn't actually work for the cafe, but is just helping out the family business while on break from his normal job, teaching Arabic in Barcelona. We had a nice discussion about Spain and Morocco, probably made easier by his clear and simple Arabic. He was obviously a teacher. After the cafe, we went into the kasbah, where they were having a traditional religious music festival that made for an excellent end to the evening.
The name Chefchaouen actually comes from Berber, given that they are, or at least were, the ethnic and linguistic majority in the area. It means “Look! Two horns!” and refers to the two mountains that rise up on either side of the city like horns.
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| Streets in Chefchaouen |
After getting in late and enjoying a nice dinner on Friday night, we decided to get up early Saturday morning to hike up one of these two horns. Even though it is in the mountains, Chaouen (as it is often called) can get extremely warm during the day, so we wanted to beat the sun. The early start also afforded us the opportunity to see the city without any tourists or shopkeepers to hassle us. The whole city is painted in blue, similar to Asilah, but to an even greater degree.
The hike started out easily enough, snaking us around the mountain until we reached a less steep area that facilitated our climb. Nonetheless, after an hour and a half, we were all pretty tired and reaching the toughest section.
 |
| Dawn in Chaouen |
We climbed up a cleft in a high cliff and stepped out of the shadows into the glaring sun. After a moment of adjustment, we saw the beautiful view before us. There was a small valley in between the two peaks, and in the distance, the blue of Chaouen was still just as striking as it had been when we were walking through it in the early morning. This was definitely one of the high points of the trip (no pun intended).
Our climb down was a bit more challenging as we tried not to slip and slide off the edge of the mountain.
 |
| In the midst of the goats |
As if this wasn't enough, we also ran into a huge herd of goats that were taking over the small path. We stood for about 15 minutes as they slowly made their way past. As I watched, I was amazed at how, even with hooves, they were able to climb rocks and perch in precarious positions with an agility that none of us humans could muster. Further down, the goatherds watched, probably laughing to themselves about the ridiculous Americans that were being challenged by a route that they traverse every day.
After making it back to the city, we headed to R'as al-Maa (literally "Head of the water"), a stream outside the city walls that is fed by the natural springs that make Chaouen famous. The water was freezing cold and a welcome respite from the midday heat. We stood with our feet in the water as we watched children play and women washing laundry and enormous carpets. It seemed that the whole town had headed to the stream. A bit further on, a group of young men broke out in song, dancing and beating their drums until they collapsed into the water.
That evening, we were treated to a delicious dinner of --wait for it-- tagines, and went into the busy night to explore the town. Megan, one of my program friends, had actually brought along her friend who was visiting Morocco and was coincidentally a UA graduate. I spent the rest of the night hanging out with them and reveling in even a fleeting connection to home. We found a fantastic cafe with a terrace that overlooked one of the main roads and the kasbah. The man who ushered us in, Mo'ad, was incredibly friendly and decided to sit and chat with us for a while. As it turned out, he didn't actually work for the cafe, but is just helping out the family business while on break from his normal job, teaching Arabic in Barcelona. We had a nice discussion about Spain and Morocco, probably made easier by his clear and simple Arabic. He was obviously a teacher. After the cafe, we went into the kasbah, where they were having a traditional religious music festival that made for an excellent end to the evening.
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