Chefchaouen if you are Berber, Chaouen if you are Arabic. However you call it or pronounce it, this city is only 15 kilometres from our guest house. But first breakfast of various breads and toppings with lovely orange juice, coffee or mint tea.
Driss took us on a walking tour of the main points of the city before setting us free for several hours. Interesting architecture, green spaces for families to enjoy, a wall mural in blue, and the old fortress walls.
In our free time we set out in all diections to discover the many alleys and steep streets full of little shops, and all bathed in blue. There were lots of berber floor rugs, and even a couple of men weaving in their small shops.
Driss had assured us that we couldn't get lost but we weren't so sure when we found ourselves high up against the base of the mountain and out of the crowd.
After wandering for a bit we set our minds to facing the sun and going down hill. With the unsolicited help of a couple of locals we eventually popped out in the main street near the fort walls and the tree where we had started.
I had commented that the toddlers lie back in their pushers in a specific casual sort of way, not unlike the young men about town. I think this cat has some of that cool attitude too.
Tonight we had the opportunity to eat goat, the chef offering goat tagine with figs and almonds. I think that could be pretty nearly the best thing I have ever eaten. Slow cooked until it fell off the bone, the taste was sensational.
The temperature was in the high twenties today, which was lovely, and tonight we were able to eat out on the terrace. One long table of friends, all realising that this trip to Morocco which we have been planning for over twelve months, is nearly over.
Aldo hasn't had much opportunity to get out on this trip, but at least he has another stamp in his passport.
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