Wednesday, March 20, 2002 15:56
Weather: Hot and sunny
Location: Halfway up a Moroccan mountain above the town of Chefchaouen

I'm sitting in the shade of a tree, because the sun is extraordinarily hot. Just over a short rise the path goes down to a ruined mosque above the city of Chefchaouen. The call for evening prayers has started at the various functional mosques in the valley below, and from here it sounds like a distant wing of dive bombers, minus the bombs of course.

After a lazy wakeup and slow start to the day, the shock of yesterday's arrival in Morocco has somewhat worn off. I took a stroll into Chefchaouen's medina, and had an omelette at a caf� in the main square. Then I wandered off to an Internet caf� and settled in for the duration of the morning.

Stereotypes fell easily. The administrator for the computers was a young lady with excellent french, who clearly knew what she was doing, helping many of the customers with little problems. The woman next to me, dressed traditionally, seemed to be writing a love letter to "un homme sympa". (I didn't pry -- just caught a glance.) Once I'd worked out how to switch the keyboard layout from the french AZERTY to the english QWERTY I was set, and spent a happy 2 1/2 hours bringing the journal up to date, catching up on email, and checking train schedules. Afterwards, I brought myself up to date on my favorite cartoons (Doonesbury, Dilbert, Sherman's Lagoon) and inpassing.org, I paid up and left. The total was remarkably cheap: only Dr. 25, about C$4. (It was more than that for half an hour in Seville!)

Afterwards, I turned the corner and walked downhill towards the bus station. This was composed of a smallish building with a CTM (bus company) official in an office, a food counter, and a couple of dirty bathrooms; plus a small pavillion waiting area, and a parking lot, with three old-looking buses. I bought a ticket to Fes for Dr. 52 and a small bottle of water. Recalling that the CTM bus I'd seen yesterday had been a large, modern model, I hoped for a better bus than the three on display.

Having completed my ticket purchase, I trekked back up the steep hill towards the medina. I got a bit lost looking for the restaurant I'd chosen from the guide, so I picked another just of the main square, which sold me an excellent chicken kebab and a coke, with cookies and mint tea for desert. I started out on my own with a copy of the Economist, but when a young englishman came in I invited him to join me and we compared notes on our trips so far.

Following lunch, I wanted to go around the Kasbah's gardens and museum, but they were closed for the afternoon. So I walked up through the medina and out the far side of the town, winding my way uphill past several small farms and a cemetary, until I found a shady spot to sit, read my book, and write a postcard or two.

A little girl named Nadia joined me as I walked, asking me to take her photo. So I did, and gave her Dr. 5 for the privilege, though I turned down her brother's rather less coherent request to serve as a guide further along the path. Apparently, she's been studying her french more than him!
posted by Tom at 4:17 PM | link |