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| Chefchaouen with the Rif Mountains in the background |
THURSDAY 19 JUNE 2008
We used the same taxi driver as yesterday and went to Chefchaouen, a Berber village in the Rif Mountains about 80 kilometers away, with Barbara and Tudor. The taxi driver had to go to the police as he was going outside the 50 kilometer limit. The drive was spectacular with fantastic views of the mountains and isolated villages. We passed the end of a sheep market which had started at 6 a.m. and saw loaded mules and Berber men and women cutting wheat by hand. We also saw black kites and an owl sitting on a telegraph pole. We stopped at a road side stall and bought some fresh figs where the people, as we have found everywhere in Morocco, were very friendly.
Until the 1920s, only four Europeans had ever visited Chefchaouen. The buildings in the Medina are painted a lovely white and pale blue. We had a look at the small shops and met a shopkeeper from the village who is called Bruce and I told him I was called Sheila. His wife is Scottish. Barbara tried to reduce the price of a poof by suggesting the mark on it was because he had had a little accident! Luckily he saw the funny side. We had a very cheap lunch in a local café – less than £10 for the four of us, and then visited the large Berber market as it is market day on Thursdays. The market is very colourful with the Berbers dressed in their different costumes according to their different tribes.
We used the same taxi driver as yesterday and went to Chefchaouen, a Berber village in the Rif Mountains about 80 kilometers away, with Barbara and Tudor. The taxi driver had to go to the police as he was going outside the 50 kilometer limit. The drive was spectacular with fantastic views of the mountains and isolated villages. We passed the end of a sheep market which had started at 6 a.m. and saw loaded mules and Berber men and women cutting wheat by hand. We also saw black kites and an owl sitting on a telegraph pole. We stopped at a road side stall and bought some fresh figs where the people, as we have found everywhere in Morocco, were very friendly.
Until the 1920s, only four Europeans had ever visited Chefchaouen. The buildings in the Medina are painted a lovely white and pale blue. We had a look at the small shops and met a shopkeeper from the village who is called Bruce and I told him I was called Sheila. His wife is Scottish. Barbara tried to reduce the price of a poof by suggesting the mark on it was because he had had a little accident! Luckily he saw the funny side. We had a very cheap lunch in a local café – less than £10 for the four of us, and then visited the large Berber market as it is market day on Thursdays. The market is very colourful with the Berbers dressed in their different costumes according to their different tribes.
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