Morocco is in some kind of weird time zone, which means while it gets dark relatively early, the sun is beating down by 9am. So getting up at 6am to catch the 8am bus to Chef Chaouen felt like much later. I had breakfast- Moroccan pita bread, cheese and mint tea- in a hole-in-the-wall roadside cafe on the way to the bus station while chatting with Ikbal, a computer science student waiting for the bus to the university. He translated my order from French into Arabic for the waiter, and also let me try some of the bread he was eating, which seemed to be made from couscous then grilled. Mmm.
Four hours of winding mountain road later and I'm in Chef Chaouen, pop. 40 000, sleepy mountain village-cum-tourist town. Let's see how well this town walks the line between welcoming to tourists and tourist trap.
And now I'm off into the winding streets of the Medina to find an excursion into the Rif mountains for tomorrow.
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