The story continues with us traveling to Chefchaouen; the Blue City. It truly is the most beautiful shade of blue. To come into the city is rather uninspiring. You pass a very well preserved Roman ruin in Volubilis.
It is fantastic to see each room still standing, plumbing that still works, and the Victory gate. You feel that you are in Northern Italy instead of Morocco. Mountains and vineyards dot the landscape. You come around a bend and there below you is Chefchaouen. It doesn’t look blue until you are in the city, from far away its white. Once you get into the city you find only the old parts are painted this blue. I am unsure as to why but I do know that blue means dead ends. We had my favorite meal here- the best food in all the trip.
It might have taken a scary trip through stairs and alleyways but it was totally worth it. Leavening was sad but we were working toward what I had most looked forward to; Sahara. Traveling to Midelt really took you into the Morocco you think of. Craggy hills and barren lands filled the vista. You can tell you have left civilization behind as green started to disappear. And all of a sudden, in the horizon, red hills which turn into sand dunes. It is almost a let down. The sand dunes are magically there in the middle of nowhere. I expected a work up to the sand but nope there it is. Our drop off point is still on rough, rocky ground.
However, spend an hour on a camel and you will forget that you are walking distance from a hotel. It was amazing to ride into the sunset. The camels tied to one another made a train around dunes and valleys until we came upon our camp. It was very modern for sleeping in a tent. Before sunset we climbed the closest, largest dune. If you aren’t expecting a workout you will be horribly surprised. I nearly gave up half way up the hill. It was deceivingly hard. However, up on top you imagine you are a scout for the tribe. Sand and stars are your only company. You can hear the drums from the camp’s music. It really takes you back 1000 years to when this was a way of life. All too quickly dawn comes and we move to our next location. In M’goun Valley we stay at a Gite or family home (turned into a hotel). The family still lives there and they are very welcoming.
One of the many cousins take us on a hike to the next village. We follow paths that wind between family crop fields bordering a low river. I surmise this river, the fields, and path have been here for hundreds of years. This is a livelihood that hasn’t changed just because tourist are around. People still herd their flocks and wash their clothes in the river. It became my second favorite place. (I think, Chefchaouen is my favorite)