Northern Morocco, the kingdom of kif? (page 4 of 5)

But you seem to have woken that cat up a bit... 😄

The problem is being able to easily renounce it after the visit without anything happening to me...

( No memory of my short time with the Catholics. After all, I was only 6 months old... It seems like they splashed a little water on my head and then my family had a big feast...)

I’ve got a top-notch address for pastilla...

At the camel?😇

At the camel???? No no! The restaurant isn’t called that, and besides, it’s not the same animal.. It’s "Collier de la Colombe"... the best pastilla in Morocco 😉

The sun is at its zenith, summer is lingering, and we're suffering from the heat.

We retreat to the air-conditioned comfort of our room, waiting for late afternoon to arrive.

Oh, we forgot to visit the Attarine Madrasa this morning.

What a shame—we must have walked right past it!

I check the opening hours and realize the monument closes in 45 minutes...

Let's hurry!

We’ll make it just in time.







Not too early in the morning, not too late in the evening—the traveler has to squeeze their visits into a short window in Morocco!

As dusk falls, the temperature drops slightly, and we cross the medina again toward the mellah, the old Jewish quarter, and the royal palace.









We’ve already walked about 18 kilometers, and these last ones will be the final straw.

We’re exhausted when we get back to the riad and all we want is to eat and go to bed!

We should’ve made one last effort and dined at Darori again.

Instead, we chose a very touristy restaurant with a rooftop terrace, Foundouk Bazaar.

Not great, and the service was particularly chaotic!

The ice cream, on the other hand, was excellent.

Good night...

Hey, we forgot to visit the Attarine Madrasa this morning.

Uh... not sure if I'm up for it... oh well, let's go crazy...

Here we call it a "bouse"... the crap of Tarine... Yeah, okay, it's a bit of a stretch... we entertain ourselves however we can

Did you overdo it with the apéritif tonight, Perju?😮

You haven’t overdone the apéro tonight, Perju?

No more than usual... so I’m wondering if that’s why people have been giving me weird looks for a few... years.

Not any more than usual... so I wonder if that's why people have been giving me weird looks for the past few... years. 😇

At the same time, with an avatar like that... that guy must’ve really gone to town on it!

Who says it’s an avatar? They call him the Slav in the village… 😉

Who told you it’s an avatar? They call him the Slav in the village … 😉

Yeah... so when are you coming to try my vodka? 😉

Yeah... so when are you coming to test my vodka? 😉

And what about us?

Yeah... so when are you coming to try my vodka? 😉

And us?

Well then... you guys didn’t have vodka on the agenda... didn’t we talk about chicken with yellow wine and morels? That said, vodka takes way less work

The night was definitely less peaceful than yesterday.

Will a double dose of coffee keep us awake until Al Hoceïma?



We decide to take the road that crosses the Rif to reach the Mediterranean.

Not necessarily the best choice given the numerous roadworks on National Route 8...

The landscape becomes more mountainous, the hairpin bends replace the straight lines, and the temperature finally drops by 10 degrees. From time to time, a very particular smell seeps through the half-open windows.







It reminds me of something, but what???

Ding!

The herb that makes you laugh and puts you to sleep...

I knew Morocco was a major cannabis producer, but I didn’t know this crop was legal here!

Well, only in three regions (Al Hoceïma, Chefchaouen, and Taounate), and recreational use is still banned.

I also didn’t know this plant had such a strong scent.

We don’t even see the plants before we spot them by their aroma!

The big blue is now visible on the horizon as we reach the outskirts of Al Hoceïma.

We park on the heights of Quemado Beach and go for a short walk with our feet in the sand.

The cove surrounded by cliffs could be magnificent, but an ugly hotel ruins the beauty of the place.







It’s not the only one...

The beach is far from clean and way too cluttered with chairs and umbrellas for rent!

The clientele, whether local or MRE, is mostly male, though a few rather covered-up women also frequent the place.

People don’t come here to sunbathe but to swim, eat, and chat...

Next, we head to our hotel, a place that must have been quite luxurious when it opened but has since forgotten any renovations.

The room is still comfortable, though, the peace and quiet is there, and the location is perfect for sunset.

Speaking of which, isn’t it almost time for that famous sunset?

We cross a rather well-kept garden and soon overlook the sea.

The view is stunning, but as always, it’s best not to look at your feet...





What’s the point of tossing your empty chip bag, water bottle, or beer can in the grass instead of taking it with you!

Let’s forget this sad sight over a fish dish!

We spotted a restaurant near the port and don’t waste time sitting down.



Once again, the clientele isn’t touristy.

If you want to visit Morocco off the beaten path, this is the place to go!

Drinks, starters, desserts, and sides are ordered à la carte, while fish and seafood are sold by weight directly from the refrigerated display.





Not bad, this meal—though I’d have preferred to toast with Terres Blanches over lemon juice...

The breakfast served at the Mira Palace definitely won’t be memorable for its quality.

So we left this accommodation without any regrets to follow the road that hugs the coast heading west.



A few cannabis fields, plenty of beaches, and more traditional, scattered housing marked our route.



















A few hikes lead to coves that are inaccessible by car, but with time running short, we didn’t do any of them.

We’re temporarily leaving the Mediterranean near Oued Laou to head into the Rif.



It’s late afternoon, and it’s not the best time to enjoy the stunning landscapes of this region, now shrouded in shadow.







We’re now arriving in Akchour, a small tourist village mostly frequented by Moroccans.

Our accommodation is up in the hills, which we reach via a bumpy track.

Here we are at last in rural Morocco, far from the big cities that dot the north of the country.

A woman warmly welcomes us and hands over the keys to the little house we’ve rented.

The interior is pretty rustic, but we love the outside.

We crack open the bottle of wine we bought in Azrou and enjoy an aperitif on the terrace, watching the sun set.





A few hours later...

Ugh, I can’t digest anything! And yet, we only had a few olives and an omelet!

No overdoing it on the Terres Rouges either...

I toss and turn in bed—it’s not going away.

Oops, sorry, gotta dash...

Traveler’s diarrhea has struck!

My partner’s fine. So the culprit is either the lemon juice from yesterday, the fish, or the orange juice at breakfast...

I’m leaning toward the lemon juice.

Probably cut with tap water!

Water’s supposed to be drinkable in Morocco’s urban centers, but the standards aren’t the same as in France...

The tourist trots have hit!

My partner is fine. So the culprit is either the lemon juice from the night before, the fish, or the orange juice at breakfast...

Yeah, but not just that. You could’ve caught it from a contaminated surface or passed on by someone. Unwashed hands can also be the cause.

C'était carabiné ! Ça m'arrive souvent au Maroc pas dans d'autres pays (Inde exceptée).

Je pense franchement que l'eau en est la cause. La fois précédente, j'avais pris aussi un jus de fruit dans un restaurant local un peu avant.

Je n'ai pas beaucoup dormi cette nuit, voire pas du tout, mon ventre est vide, mes intestins aussi...

Autant dire que ce n'est pas la grande forme ce matin et que je n'ai pas du tout envie de bouger de mon lit, ni de manger d'ailleurs !

Pas de bol, nous devions aujourd'hui effectuer une assez longue randonnée, la plus corsée de tout le voyage.

Je reste donc me reposer à la maison tandis que mon compagnon part se promener dans les environs, suivant les indications données hier par notre logeuse.

Il en reviendra absolument ravi.

Si les marocains se rendent à Akchour, c'est pour prendre un peu le frais aux cascades pas pour se disperser dans les villages du coin.

Il ne croisera ainsi personne hormis des villageois bien occupés à récolter le fruit de leur travail, le cannabis !







Un déjeuner tardif plus tard, je prends mon courage à deux mains pour enfiler mes chaussures de randonnée.

Pas question d'effectuer le grand tour des cascades, ni d'aller jusqu'au Pont de Dieu, une arche naturelle de 25 mètres de haut, nous nous contenterons d'une balade en direction des plus proches chutes d'eau.

Et pas question non plus de partir du village, nous prendrons la voiture pour nous garer au plus près du départ.

Le parking est payant, plein comme un oeuf mais bien organisé.

Un employé scrute les voitures sur le départ et arrive à optimiser tout l'espace disponible en aidant à la manoeuvre ses clients pour qu'ils arrivent à se caser dans le moindre petit recoin.

Je pensais que le sentier des cascades était un sentier comme il en existe tant d'autres un peu partout dans le monde : une trace permettant de profiter tranquillement de la nature et de points de vue.

Et bien non...









Nous sommes plutôt dans une sorte de parc aquatique, la rivière étant jalonnée de restaurants et de piscines naturelles.

Pas forcément désagréable mais rien de très folichon...

Bref, mauvais choix de notre part même si j'avais pété le feu !

Après, se rendre par ici demeure une excellente idée car, si les cascades sont bien trop domestiquées, le reste de la région est magnifique et le côté rural très intéressant.

Nous aurions mieux fait de procéder à l'inverse, mon compagnon le matin aux cascades et nous deux l'après-midi dans les villages !

Revenir au parking sera difficile, je flageole un peu.





Une bonne nuit de sommeil et tout ira mieux ?