So, I just got back from Chefchaouen, and wow, I have to tell you about it over coffee. You know how sometimes you go places expecting to be blown away, but then it's just… fine? Yeah, this wasn't like that at all. This little blue haven totally surprised me. Seriously, if you ever find yourself wondering what the best things to do in Chefchaouen are, just grab your backpack and go — don't think too hard about it. I promise, you won't regret it.
This spot? Total surprise.
Alright, let me rewind a bit — my first day there, I was wandering through the maze-like streets, all excited and taking a million photos of the blue walls. I mean, how could you not? Those blues are like something out of a postcard, or that Instagram filter everyone uses, but like, real life. Just when I thought I was getting the hang of the place, I turned down a street that didn't seem familiar. I was kind of half-lost, and honestly, I wasn't expecting much.
Then I stumbled upon this tiny little café called Café Clock. The sign was barely hanging on the wall, and it looked like it belonged in a movie — dark wooden beams, little lanterns, and the smell of fresh mint tea wafting through the air. I went inside mostly out of curiosity (and, let's face it, my growing need for caffeine), and oh man, I was not prepared for what awaited me.
A group of locals was jamming out in the corner, playing traditional Moroccan music, and just, wow. I plopped down in a chair and ordered a cup of mint tea. I remember thinking, “Am I really in the middle of Chefchaouen, soaking this all in?” It felt like I had cracked open the city's heart, just sitting there.
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
Now, this is the part of the trip that shifted everything for me. After that spontaneous stop at Café Clock, I found myself drifting towards the other side of the town, where the mountains sort of hug Chefchaouen. I was still riding that high, but the place got quiet, real quiet. Suddenly it was just me, the sound of wind, some chirping birds, and the mountains looking like they were posing for a painting.
It was one of those lazy afternoons when the sun hangs low in the sky, casting this magical glow. I spotted this old stone staircase leading up to nowhere in particular — just a pathway zigzagging up the hillside.
I thought, “What the heck, why not?” So, I climbed. And man, let me tell you, it felt like I was headed directly into a fairy tale. At the top, there was this breathtaking view overlooking the town. All those blue buildings stretching across the landscape like a giant canvas, surrounded by these mountains that were practically daring me to take a deeper breath. The whole world suddenly felt lighter, and it made me realize how much I needed this moment — just me, nature, and no distraction.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
Remember when I said my sense of direction can be a little dodgy? Yeah, let's just say it didn't help me much in Chefchaouen either. I ended up wandering aimlessly, but those missteps turned out to be some of the best parts of the trip. One afternoon, I found myself in the market, which was a total sensory overload. The colors! The scents! But I also struggled to know which way to turn next.
I remember getting frustrated as I kept passing the same stalls, until I finally made a left and stumbled into this little spice shop run by the sweetest elderly woman. Honestly, I wasn't looking for spices, but she had this warm smile that pulled me in. As I started to chat with her, she showed me her selection — saffron, cumin, all these fragrant blends.
At some point, she offered me a taste of what she called “the best olive oil in Morocco.” I swear, that olive oil was life-changing. She drizzled it over some bread, and I'm pretty sure I closed my eyes with happiness. We ended up talking for ages — she shared stories of her family, the town, even taught me a few phrases in Arabic. Just like that, an accidental detour turned into something heartwarming.
A meal that still makes me drool
You know how every trip has that one meal that sticks with you? Mine was definitely at a local restaurant called Restaurante Casa Aladdin. I wasn't even looking for a fancy dinner, but the way my stomach was growling was almost embarrassing. I think I ended up in there because it had outdoor seating and looked busy — my trick for finding good food.
I went for their chicken tagine, which was rich and flavorful, with spices and veggies dancing in this delicious harmony. And the way they served it — in this beautiful earthenware pot, surrounded by warm bread, just felt like a warm hug. Honestly, I thought I figured out the secret to happiness with that meal.
As I ate, I kept thinking about how food has a way of bringing people together, even in a foreign land. I chatted with the couple at the next table who were just as captivated by the food and the ambiance. We ended up swapping travel stories over shared dishes, and it somehow felt like home. Just a simple meal, but it turned into an unexpected moment of connection — the kind you don't plan for but end up cherishing.
As I'm writing this, I'm still trying to wrap my head around how multiple missteps led me to such colorful experiences. Isn't it funny how life works? I brought back more than just souvenirs and photos; I feel like Chefchaouen taught me something about being present, about not overthinking.
I can't wait to share all these stories with you in person. Meanwhile, I might still have a bit of that magical olive oil in my bag to share over dinner. You'll have to promise me we'll make some tagine like they did in Chefchaouen someday.
Anyway, I better finish this coffee before it gets cold. What a trip it has been.
