Advertisement
Route
Red is bus, Blue is boat. Comprende-vous? Bonjour!
Well we have safely arrived in Morocco and have ended up in a small town called Chefchaouen which is high up in the Rif Mountains.
We started our journey with an EasyJet flight to Malaga on Sunday then we spent a night in the Hotel Zeus in the delightful city of Malaga. We left quite late on the Monday morning and walked to the bus station to catch the midday service to Algeciras.
We were suitable disappointed with the number of package tourists on this bus as there were a glut of them on the plane in hen party pink cowboy hats. By the time we got the bus the westerners had thinned out to just backpacking types.
The ferry left about an hour late but was luxurious compared with what we were expecting, it was being refurbished but could still put P&O to shame. Alice showed off her knowlwdge of African conservatism by going up on deck and allowing her skirt to fly above her head exposing her stripy pants to all and sundry, she was suitable embarrassed and escaped downstairs with her tail, and her skirt, between her legs.
I was great to watch Europe disappear and
Goodbye to Bristol
Flight EZY6066 is now boarding see Africa swing into view as we slowly sailed into Tangier's port. The city is infamous for it's 'legendary hustlers' but we arrived at 5pm to a very quiet reception. It was relatively easy to get a bed for the night, although we did endure some hassle. It could only be descrbed as cell like and, to be honest, our spirits were pretty low. We were very tired, very hot and the hassle and cell-room all mounted up.
Just as we were bucking ourselves up the owner of the pension came in and asked us if we would like to have a room upgrade which turned out to be a delicious hide-away with a balcony overlooking the busy medina. Our spirits were raised so we headed out into the throng for a wander.
The narrow streets were the exact stereotype of Morocco you have an image of in your head, a big room opened up which made you feel as though you were inside even though you weren't, narrow pathways carved their way though stalls selling every vegetable and dead animal you can imagine and olives every colour there is.
After the walk we sat in a cafe for food
Unto the breach
Alice skipping happily out of Europe where the old waiter told us that we wanted chicken and chips, we agreed to this lack of choice but it was great comfort food after a long and tiring day. There is only on way to describe the waiter, charming. He wore an old white dinner jacket and took the utmost pride in what he did. He even crossed the street to get Alice a tiny tub of ice cream afterwards as a gift.
As we returned to the pension we felt really good again, genuine friendliness from the hotel man and waiter made us feel most welcome in what should have been an unwelcoming city.
We both slept like logettes.
Got up and left the pension bound for the CTM bus station, got tickets for chefchaouen at 9pm for a bus at midday. Not to sure how we spent the next few hours but the bus came on time and we were soon whisked along the mountain roads to Chaouen via Tetouan in about 2h30, The bus was great, exactly like a European coach and the roads were paved and perfect all the way. The only downside were two Australian loud-mouthed, arrogant, ski-bum types who spent the
There she is
The big continent comes into view entire journey competing as to which one's parent had house in the most countries.
Chaouen is beautiful, a piggled white and blue mishmash of stone houses, cafes and tiny shops. All set around a medina at the centre of which is a cobbled square and 14th century kasbah. This is all set at the base of the towering Rif Mountains.
We have spent time, sipping mint tea, speaking bad French (and worse Arabic) and slurping vegetable soup, Moroccan style. Our pension is high up, overlooking the town. It was beautiful heaing and seeing the town going to sleep last night, especially the shrieks of children who weren't so keen on the idea!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.059s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 16; qc: 32; dbt: 0.0216s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
mum
non-member comment
Chefchoauen looks a lovely place, worth the long journey to get there. Can't say I envy you the old school toilets. In my experience they are usuually much dirtier and smellier than that. Glad the French is useful, shame we didn't have time for Arabic too !