The gentle patter of rain echoes in the narrow alley outside my room. Little by little, it wakes me up from a slumber that has stretched for over 14 uninterrupted hours. Snug under my blankets, I've cocooned myself up to my ears. With some effort, I half-open one eye and glance through the small window at the sky, shrouded in dark clouds. The soothing sound of raindrops tapping on puddles in the street quickly lures me back into slumber. Two hours later, I wake up from a sleep that might as well have continued. This is the consequence of pedaling over 200 km in the past two days without sleep. Thankfully, today, I awaken in Chefchaouen, and there's nowhere I need to rush.
Later, as I venture out to explore the winding alleys, I discover a town so picturesque that it feels like I've stepped into a fairy tale. In fact, it seems like the perfect setting for the central story in a book. Stepping outside is like extending the 16-hour dream I just awoke from into real life. Now, I'm in this labyrinth of stone alleys, awash in every conceivable shade of blue, barely wide enough for two people to pass. Arches replace the usual rectangular doorframes; electrical cables weave the facades from one side of the street to the other as if trying to hold the buildings together. The walls twist and turn following long smooth curves, leading me on a whimsical journey up and down every corner of the town. Flower-filled pots overflow, heralding the arrival of spring and providing a vital contrast that breaks up the blue monotony. The walls, staircases, tunnel ceilings between buildings, doors, and house gates – everything is blue. I like to call it Chefchaouen Blue. It's impossible not to think of Jodhpur, where I visited nearly three years ago during my journey across the Indian subcontinent. The difference is that here, it's Moroccan culture, not Rajasthan's, that instills life into these alleys.
I may encounter rainy days, but far from damaging my experience, they enhance the chromatic beauty of this place. The overcast sky and moist surfaces accentuate the blue of the town and the green of the surrounding mountains, making them even more vibrant. The rain doesn't disrupt the flow of life. All the markets remain open, and just like in Fes, they display an array of spices, dates, pottery, textiles, tea houses, and eateries. Despite being a major tourist destination in Morocco, especially due to its proximity to Europe, it's easy to escape the tourist herds. I often find myself savouring mint tea slowly on the terrace of a traditional teahouse, where I’m often surrounded by men dressed akin to Obi Wan Kenobi. It's worth noting that it was George Lucas who drew inspiration from this particular attire of North African Islamic origin for Star Wars, not the other way around.
In this fairy-tale town, days seem to slip by faster than anywhere else and nothing could be further from what I want. There are several reasons why I could happily linger in Chefchaouen for an extended period. One of them is the enchanting quality of its atmosphere, both architectural and cultural, which I find challenging to capture fully with words. It's a place where simply being here feels comforting, and that's a rare sensation to combat. However, that's not the primary reason. The truth is, over the past four years, I've encountered numerous enchanting places I didn't want to leave, but I was never apprehensive about departing. My desire to extend my stay and delay my departure is primarily rooted in the fact that I'm just one day's bicycle ride away from reaching Tangier. To put it simply: I have one day left, ONE DAY left pedaling on the African continent. The very act of typing these words tightens my throat and brings tears to my eyes. That's the real reason I'm reluctant to leave Chefchaouen.
