TRAVEL PHOTOS
Searching for Contrast in Morocco’s Blue City
Chefchaouen doesn’t disappoint
I was on a mission. Call it a photo safari in one of Africa’s most photogenic cities. I was armed with my camera, my phone, fully charged batteries, and extra photo cards determined to experience Chefchaouen through the camera lens but first, we had to get there.
It was a long day of driving from Fez to Morocco’s Blue City. Our driver kept telling us that he hated Chefchaouen, it was his least favorite city in his country. Since he was from Marrakech I assumed it was some kind of rivalry, but he said he didn’t like it because people were always trying to sell him drugs there.
As we approached ‘chaouen we pulled over to a lookout where the whole city was laid out in front of us, rising up from the mountain valley.
The 15th-century city was founded by Jews and Moors fleeing Spain. More recently it was a hippy hangout in the sixties and seventies and is now a favorite for Instagram influencers.
Faisal was already riled up when we drove into town. When a motorcycle cut us off he started yelling outside his window at the passenger, not something tour drivers often do. But this was Morocco.
Suddenly he pulled off into a busy parking lot and told us that we could get out now and someone would lead us to our hotel because he couldn’t drive through the pedestrian-lined streets. That was the first I had heard about it. My friend and I grabbed our backpacks and were just getting them on when a guy came over to lead us into the Medina.
While trudging along with my backpack, I was amazed at all of the blue buildings. Various shades of the color were all around me. I couldn’t wait to get out with my camera.
After several minutes we reached our hotel and it wasn’t what I expected. While it looked nice enough on first look, it wasn’t all it appeared. Probably the strangest thing was that the doorknob was broken off our room door, making it almost impossible to get in. After I complained they quickly fixed it but I noticed later that the room next door now didn’t have a doorknob. Do they have just one doorknob that they keep switching from room to room?
After throwing our things inside, my friend and I headed out for a quick exploration before the sun set. And the blue city didn’t disappoint.
Blue walls, blue stairs, blue doors, blue windows. Everything is blue. And in every shade imaginable, azure, cobalt, cerulean, indigo, sky blue.
The colors were even more distinct when next to another color for contrast, orange and yellow were the obvious choices, orange and yellow flowers, and even orange cats. The colorful fabrics on display outside shops and even laundry hanging on the line outside a home highlighted the blues of the surrounding walls and doors.
The narrow streets rose up and down the hills, some with stairs, some simply rising and falling. The streets were busy with tourists and some aggressive shopkeepers trying to pull us in for their sales pitch. I never seemed to have much trouble fending them off. If ignoring them didn’t work, I’d simply raise my hand and say, “La La,” Arabic for no.
As the sun was setting we headed back to our hotel so my sick friend could rest up while I went out again for a bite to eat. It would be an early night for me too. You wouldn’t think sitting in a car all day would be tiring, but I was exhausted from the journey. It was loud outside the hotel, more than any other city we had visited so far, as children were crying and people were yelling back and forth to each other just outside our window.
With just another half day left in the city, I made sure to get up at the crack of dawn and armed with my camera went out in search of new images. I wandered aimlessly through the narrow streets as the city was starting to wake up. I discovered the most beautiful scenes, created just for the camera. More shades of blue and some with a splash of contrasting colors.
Painted steps, street art, and flower pots added to the charm of this small city but all highlighted the various shades of blue. And most of those doing the painting didn’t care where it ended up, with blue splatters and smears all around their work.
After more than an hour, I decided it was time to get some breakfast before packing up my things for our drive to our next location. As I walked down one alley I saw a vendor making his pitch to a young man, trying to sell him slit pants. As I passed by I could hear the shopper ask him what he meant. A few minutes later when I passed by, the vendor had the guy in bright red harem pants with slits up the sides. They looked like clown pants. I had to stifle a laugh as I walked past.
I made my way back to the hotel and loaded up my plate with Morrocan pancakes. a thin omelet, honey, jams, and my favorite, Moroccan black olives. I just started to eat when two guys walked in, one of them was the young man from the alley. I said, “You didn’t buy the pants.” He laughed when he realized I had seen him just a few minutes earlier. He told me, “No, they weren’t really my style.”
He asked if he and his father could join me, before sitting down. They were American and it turned out that they were traveling together for nine days, with the same tour company my friend and I were traveling with. They were taking a slightly different reverse route to ours but were stopping at many of the same places and staying in many of the same accommodations. We shared notes about what we each could expect. Sharing experiences with other travelers is always a highlight of my journeys.
As we were driving away from the Blue City our driver asked if we had been approached to buy drugs. I told him, we had twice, but simply said “No” and continued on our way. I think he expected we would have had a different reaction. But a couple of minor incidents certainly weren’t going to affect my new-found love of Chechaouen. I turned to look one last time as we drove past the lookout, wondering if I would ever see it again.
Thank you for reading.
To read about another writer’s freebie visit to Chefchaouen – Matthew David you get what you pay for.