Chefchaouen, Morocco Seriously, Chefchaouen is the most photogenic city we’ve ever been in. And I’m not saying that only because the houses in Chefchaouen happens to be painted in shades of powder blue which happens to be our favorite color. Well, maybe I am. (Random fact: Do you know that blue is the most universally …
The first thing we noticed about the ruins of Chellah in Rabat is not the ruins itself, but the friendly community of resident cats who greeted us on the path towards the ruins.
To greet and cuddle every single one of these cats, as one can imagine, makes for a very slow going. But as animal lovers (who miss having cats terribly), how could we not do it? Unless some of the cats in the medina, these ones look like they’re well taken care of. That fact alone makes us feel like our 10 Dirham entrance fee is worth it.
When I think of Morocco, I used to think of the madness and chaous of the souks of Marrakesh and the hassling touts in Fez.
Well, Rabat is nothing like that. We surely didn’t expect to walk out of the train station to find wide boulevards with palm trees, lined with imposing white buildings. Smartly dressed diplomats (it is Morocco’s capital after all) in suites mingle with traditionally clothed men and women on the wide sidewalks.
Being back in the US has given us a chance to catch up with family and friends who inevitable asked us questions about our 6 month trip to South America.
We’d say, “Oh, we started in Colombia then we went south to Ecuador, Peru, and Chile…”
Usually as soon as they hear he word ‘Colombia’, they seem to tune out the rest of what we’re saying. Their eyebrows would lift up and we could see the question forming in their head from a mile away…
“What’s it like traveling in Colombia? Is it dangerous?”
Long layover sucks. On the way to New York from South America, we had a 10 hour layover in Mexico City. But getting out of the airport to enjoy a little bit of the city definitely beats moping around at the airport.
It was our first time in Mexico. Well, actually it was technically my 2nd time, but since the only thing I remember from my first visit is having been put for a photo on top of a donkey, crying my 7 year old heart out, with a gigantic sombrero that says ‘Tijuana’ at the front, it doesn’t really count.