Day 2 and 3
I’m a sweaty mess. The sad thing is, it’s not even that hot out; maybe high 70’s. But I guess it’s desert heat and the sun is reflecting off hot walls and sand. Day 2 in Tangier’s went well- our hostel found 2 sisters to share a private cab with us and take us around to all the tourist sites. Robby and I were originally going to take the hop on/hop off bus, but we couldn’t find the stop or the time that it ran, so for $2 more, a private taxi sounded like a fantastic deal.
First stop was Cap Spartel- an old lighthouse that looked out at the Atlantic Ocean and to Spain across the way. We drove up and over a mountain, past Beverly Hills type mansions that our driver kept calling “Hollywood” due to the wealth of the neighborhood, and down along the coast past a large park to get there. The view of blue-green water alongside a rocky cliff face was worth the $5 admission fee.
We did a quick stop at the viewing point for where the Mediterranean Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean before ending our tour at the Hercules Caves- supposedly a network of sea caves with a Instagram worthy cliff arch opening to the Ocean. Unfortunately it was a Sunday, so all the tourist and locals were trying to cram themselves into the cave and random jerks were charging “fees” to enter the free caves. We had ice cream and people watched instead of going in. I guess I’ll be like most other people and just google imagines of the caves than see them in person.
Our taxi driver dropped us back at the Medina and we parted ways with our new friends so we could sit by the water and enjoy the sea breeze. In the morning we all boarded the bus to Chefchaouen - the Blue City. Once there; I knew that the Medina was on part of a hill, but I was not prepared for the mile walk straight up a mountain with a 22 pound backpack on. My previous evening’s refreshing shower quickly evaporated with every step.
Luckily our hostel was towards the bottom part of the mountain inside the Medina and we could ditch the heavy bags for our lighter day backpacks. After a refreshing coffee in Dar Dadicilef’s shaded garden, we ventured into the wild- or rather, chose to continue our upwards climb to the Kasaba Fortress in the middle of the Medina. We circled the lush gardens in the middle of the medieval walls and climbed way too many stairs in the old guard tower to experience a magnificent view of the blue and white buildings littered along the hillside with the giant moss covered mountain top behind them.
Chefchaouen is known for its periwinkle-esque buildings, doorways, and streets. Originally the Jewish people painted their homes this color, but the Moroccan people adopted it because it’s supposed to kept the buildings cooler in the summer and is said to ward off mosquitos. To most everyone else, it’s become an Instagram Mecca with some homeowners even setting up scenes of flower pots, swings, and signs to make your pictures more interesting for a small fee. While most of the streets are free to photograph, we paid for 2 views- one of which had a swing and was lined with beautiful pink flower pots leading up the staircase. Almost everywhere we wandered, we saw beauty and snapped a shot for free. We were also willing to keep walking upwards, which I doubt the Instagramers do too often.
After an hour of windy through small alleyways and dead ends, we made it to the outer top wall of the Medina - kind of a brown colored castle wall with lookout turrets and a walkway. We followed the wall across and down lots of steep steps to a small waterfall with various juice and souvenirs vendors milling about. We sat under a shady tree and enjoyed fresh squeezed orange juice while recovering our strength from the afternoon sun. We were headed to the Spanish Mosque- up another hill and we needed the fruit sugar to give us the energy to climb.
Up and up we went, but eventually we made it and were greeted by a group of 4 friends traveling from Portugal who told us a little about their lives as we all huddled in the only shade. We had an unobstructed view of the Medina, which is said to be beautiful at sunset, but there was no way we were walking back up there in a few hours. We chose to follow a small foot path, probably a goat’s path, down to the local cemetery and back into the Medina for an early suffer.
Most of the food we’d had thus far was far from spectacular- shawarma, dry pastries, and a subpar fried seafood plate. Chefchaouen changed our opinion on “yum”. I followed a young woman, who looked like she knew what she was doing, into a restaurant without any touters out front and in the center of the village, up stairs to a lovely rooftop restaurant that served a delicious chicken tajin in an olive and olive oil sauce, served with a bowl of mixed walnuts, raisins, and goat cheese. Turns out the woman I followed was the waitress, but clearly she picked a great place to work.
Belly’s full, we wandered a bit more before retiring for the evening. We had a 7am bus in the morning with a mile trek to the station.
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