
Chefchaouen
is famous thanks to its penchant for the color blue. It’s as if its inhabitants
one day decided to paint the town, but didn’t have enough motivation to commit
so they just let their kids do it. Like, okay, children, crayons out! We’re
painting the town blue today! Voilà, Chefchaouen. This is the part when I tell
you that there is nothing to see here aside from too much powder blue, but for
some reason that I could not explain, I really enjoyed staring at those houses.
They must be hypnotic like that.
The
locals call it Chaouen, and we don’t really know where the prefix “chef” came
from. Wikipedia will surely have the answer, but I’m too lazy to check it out. From
Rabat, it will take you between three to four hours on a bus, almost the same
amount of time if you are coming all the way from Fez. There are no trains going
to Chefchaouen. If you intend to hop on a train from Casa or Rabat, you’ll end
up north, in Tangier, and then transfer to a local bus from there. Be lazy. Take
the bus. Sleep on the bus.

There
is a stopover in a little town called Ouezzane, where you’ll begin to see a lot
of Jedi roaming the streets. People here in the north like wearing these
traditional Moroccan coats with pointy hoodies. Toss them some lightsabers and
there will be blood. We, Sith lords, don’t back out from a fight even when we’re
greatly outnumbered. And my anger management issues are worse than Kylo Ren’s.
But nothing really exciting happened. The lazy Jedis were just there chatting
and sipping coffee al fresco at their cafes.

A
friend tried on one of those hoodies when we were roaming around Chefchaouen’s
medina the next day, but the shop quoted MAD300 (~PHP1500) which we thought was
too pricy. This is when I was supposed to use all of the bargaining expressions
I learned in class, but we were not buying one anyway so we just smiled and
said no. Besides, the material does not seem comfortable enough for me, and I
have this feeling that the coat will cease to exist after I throw it into the
washing machine.

If
I remember correctly, there are two bus companies plying the Rabat – Chefchaouen
route. I went with CTM, which has no more than one trip a day. They leave Rabat
at 3PM. The return trip from Chefchaouen is at 7 AM the next day. This meant
that I was able to leave straight after class. Even so, it would be nicer if
there were Saturday morning trips, that way one could save up on the cost of
accommodation for one night. An afternoon return trip on a Sunday would also be
nice, instead of wasting one day on the road.

Even
fans of photography will find one day to be too much for this blue town. The
medina is quite big but can easily be explored after lunch. There is an
unimpressive waterfall somewhere up north but I no longer bothered to go there
because I just know I wouldn’t appreciate it, having seen a lot of awesome
waterfalls in this lifetime. Aside from that, you can also go hiking!
Chefchaouen is surrounded by a mountain range which ensures that the town
always has this literally chill atmosphere. Don’t forget your sweater.

As
opposed to French everywhere else down south, Spanish is the more useful
foreign language here in the north. Spain controls two exclaves in the country’s
northern coast, and the proximity to the Iberian Peninsula guarantees a steady
stream of Spanish speaking tourists. If you are not sure whether you should
order your food in Spanish, French, English, or Arabic, just try one of those
and someone will surely be able to understand you.

I
arrived Friday evening and checked in at my Airbnb place in the medina. It was
a bit difficult to navigate at first, but the 3G signal was just awesome, which
meant Google Maps was active all the time. The medina is a 20-minute walk
uphill from the bus station, so I don’t recommend going there on foot if you
have heavy luggage. A petit taxi ride should not cost you more than MAD10, even
if the taxi driver refuses to use the counter. The medina has many gates, so
plan your stop accordingly.

The
main square is at Avenue Uta Hammam, which has a rather large tree as its
centerpiece. On one side is the wall of the Qasbah, facing a plethora of
restaurants and bars that are supposed to be overpriced. The touts there are
annoying as fuck. One of them kept offering me hash despite my best efforts to
refuse over and over again. I told him I had no money. He said he’ll wait for
me until midnight. The next day, he chased me around half-berating me for
keeping him up all night. Like, dude, I don’t even know you. Doh?

I
think it was still cheap. I got a full platter of fried seafood with fries and
rice, and also a bottle of Coke for less than MAD70. They also have those tea infusion
thingies with mint in them. If you want hashish for dessert, it will come to
you. Shisha was harder to come by, and rather expensive when we inquired. Both
Restaurant Aladdin and Restaurant Marisco have rooftop views if you are up for
that. Facing the Qasbah, you’ll end up at the mountains if you go left; out of
the medina to the main street if you head right.

Are
the blue houses worth the trip? I would say so. You know when you are in China
and the red and gold overload just becomes old after a day or two? I think the
same thing is bound to happen here, but since I only did sightseeing for an
entire day, the effect was quite hypnotic despite the uniformity in terms of
hues. I could stare at those blue and white stairs for hours, seriously. Allot
at least an hour or two for getting lost in the medina and taking photos. Three
hours if you are an aspiring paparazzo.

Talking
about the paparazzi, many locals are not really keen in getting their photos
taken. The elderly will wave their index fingers at you, while the little
children will bluntly yell NO PHOTO! At first, I was annoyed, but then I
realized that if I lived here I would most likely feel the same way. So yeah,
just respect what’s left of their privacy. You’ll know a certain town is
popular if they have a considerable number of Asian tourists running around,
and Chefchaouen had several that day, which is a rarity even in Rabat.

There
is also a Spanish mosque that you could visit if you want a break from all the
blue houses. Just flag a petit taxi and ask the driver to bring you to Ras el
Ma, where the locals usually wash their clothes on weekends. What I really
liked about Chefchaouen, though, is the chillaxing atmosphere. This is perhaps
why a lot of tourists tend to come here. Compared to Marrakesh or Fez, the pace
here just seems so slow. And slow is good from time to time. Have a break, have
some hashish. Kitkat! I meant Kitkat.
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