So, I just got back from Chefchaouen, and wow, I wasn't expecting to be so blown away. When people ask me about the best things to do in Chefchaouen, I can hardly contain my excitement. If you've never heard about this magical, blue-hued town nestled in the Rif Mountains of Morocco, you're in for a treat—trust me.
This spot? Total surprise.
I remember the moment I stepped into the medina. Honestly, I wasn't expecting much. I'd seen the Instagram posts and read a few articles, so I thought I had a good idea of what to expect. But nothing could prepare me for the actual vibe.
Let me set the scene. The sun was just right, casting this golden hue over the blue walls that you could almost taste. I was just wandering, letting my feet guide me through the maze of narrow alleys. Randomly, I turned a corner and found this small, quiet plaza, perfectly hidden from the more crowded spots. There was a fountain, its water glistening, and a group of locals playing checkers nearby. I didn't even realize I was smiling until a kid ran by, laughing.
That's when it hit me: this isn't just a pretty town; it's alive with its own kind of rhythm. I plopped down on a bench, soaking it in. Honestly, I could have sat there all day, just watching the world go by. Finding that spot was a total accident, but it was one of those moments that felt like it was meant to happen.
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
But then there was this one afternoon that completely turned my mood around. It started with a wrong turn, which—surprise, surprise—happened more than once. I was trying to find a famous restaurant that everyone seemed to rave about. It was supposed to be this place famous for tagine, but, of course, I couldn't keep track of the winding streets. I think the blue walls started to blend together in my mind.
After what felt like hours of getting lost, I stumbled into this little café that wasn't even on my radar. The owner greeted me with a smile and—get this—handed me a mint tea without me even asking. It was as if he could see the frustration on my face. As I sipped that heavenly concoction, I noticed a local woman preparing fresh bread in the back.
This place had a tiny patio filled with plants, and I didn't even care that I was sweating in the Moroccan heat; it felt like I'd found a gem. I decided to stay, and it turned out to be one of the best meals of my life. The tagine—oh man, the tagine! It was spiced just right, with tender chicken and apricots, all bubbling away. I didn't just eat; I savored every bite, reflecting on how my detour had led me to this beautiful, unplanned moment.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
Then there was the hike to the Spanish Mosque. You know, that thing everyone talks about when they mention the best things to do in Chefchaouen? I'd heard rave reviews, but I was so exhausted from wandering that I almost didn't go. Friends had told me about the view, and I can be a bit lazy at times, so part of me wanted to just chill with some more mint tea.
But, of course, I couldn't let that go. So I set off, and surprise, surprise—I got lost again. The locals are friendly but, let's be honest, not all that helpful with directions. After some ups and downs, I finally found the trail leading to the mosque. I felt like I was climbing a mini mountain, and there were moments when I thought, “What am I doing? Shouldn't I just be sipping tea somewhere?”
Man, when I finally reached the top, it all made sense. The view? Breathtaking. The town sprawled beneath me, all those blue-tinted buildings looking like some sort of artistic canvas. The light was doing magical things, casting gentle shadows over the hills. It was one of those moments where you just stand there in awe, soaking it all in and remembering why you love traveling in the first place. Even with my horrible sense of direction, it felt deeply meaningful to have made the climb, so totally worth it.
The meal I keep dreaming about
Then, of course, there was that jaw-dropping dinner at this rooftop restaurant I'd heard buzz about. Picture this: a warm evening breeze, fairy lights twinkling, and the aroma of grilled vegetables and kebabs wafting through the air. I had no idea it would turn out to be such an experience, but man, it was.
I ended up sharing a table with a couple of travelers from Canada. We swapped stories, laughed over shared dishes, and even ended up splitting a bottle of Moroccan wine (yes, they do have it!). My heart felt so full, connected with these complete strangers over food, laughter, and a shared sense of adventure.
When the food arrived, it felt like a feast meant for the gods: fluffy couscous, sweet-spiced chicken, and a generous serving of roasted veggies. Each bite was a comfort—a reminder of home and the joy of discovering something new. It's funny how food can do that, isn't it?
Wrapping up, but not really
So, in my mind, Chefchaouen was more than just a destination—it was a whirlwind of surprises, gets lost with joy, and moments that stitched themselves into some of the best stories. The lessons I learned, the spontaneous moments that turned out amazing—they all made this trip feel like a tapestry of beautiful chaos.
And now I'm back, sipping this coffee and thinking about that blue town perched in the mountains. Who knows when or if I'll make it back, but I know a part of me will always wander, searching for more colorful corners of the world. Maybe next time I'll find a better map—or just embrace the mess and let the journey unfold.
