Chefchaouen

Chefchaouen, beautiful little town in the hills of the Rif mountains, soaring peaks the backdrop for a magical blue medina (old city), our guide, sniffing tobacco (perhaps) from the side of his hand, looking like a little yoda in a jilaba and skull cap, kids following along shyly, asking for "caramelos" (candy) or "monedas" coins, or taking a break and playing with each other, petting kittens, looking at catalogs of cards of soccer players (I guess the equivalent of our baseball cards), people peering through doors and windows, but not wanting to be seen (and thus photographed), beautiful blues to ward off mosquitoes and whites to keep things cool, steps worn from years of wear, cats and children running through the labrinth they know so well which is periodically invaded by large groups of strange looking tourists who come to see their simple way of life.

We enter the medina after standing outside for an hour while our group, mostly the women, stand in line to use one toilet in a restaurant that has been provided for us - turns out it is a hole in the ground, which is one of the reasons why it takes them so long.

We enter the medina, we go up, we stop at a carpet store, some buy, and we go down and leave. We've seen it, we've bought our souvenirs, and off we go.