Chefchaouen and the Rif Mountains

I reached the cooler climes of the Rif Mountains, and for the first time since arriving in Morocco, I relaxed.

Being cradled in such beauty, in a tranquil blue town where people genuinely seem happy, was balm to my soul. I was invited on a ‘walk’ by Abdul. He said the medina was too hot, so we should go where it was cooler. Haha, cooler my ass.  We enjoyed a six hour hike – 4 hours up in the fall sun, 2 hours descending with the sun – where sweat formed in layers under one another, like rings on a tree.

Chefchaouen and the Rif Mountains

But oh the beauty. This area is the main marijuana growing area of Morocco, and we walked through farm after farm of hashish, for as far as the eye can see. I’m still pinching myself that it’s all real. We visited a bio farm, where some young German woofers were toiling. With no running water or power, the energy was unique. In one afternoon we saw (and tasted) walnuts, pomegranates, almonds, thousands of ripe figs, oceans and oceans of marihuana, grapes blackberries, cactus fruit, carob, bamboo, plums, olives, honey, rose hips and mini tomatoes. This is the Garden of Eden.

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