A Weekend in the Blue City

This weekend I headed north to Chefchaouen and Akchour — two places that feel like they belong in completely different worlds, yet are only an hour apart.

Chefchaouen, known as the “Blue City,” really lives up to its name. The walls, doors, stairs, and even flower pots seem painted in every possible shade of blue. I spent most of my first day walking through the medina, weaving between small shops filled with traditional clothing, Moroccan trinkets, and trays of freshly baked pastries. Every turn led to something worth stopping for — a splash of color, a smell from a bakery, a cat lounging in the shade.

A photo of me in front of a decorated doorway, bright blue and covered in traditional hats.

My first stop was a cooking class at Café Clock, and it ended up being one of my favorite experiences so far. Our instructor, Chef Yassine, went out of his way to make the day special. He let us choose our menu, then took us to the local souk, where we bought fresh fruits, vegetables, and chicken for the meal.

Once back in the kitchen, he greeted us with mint tea and smoothies before we started cooking. We made Harira (a hearty tomato and lentil soup), Taktouka (a roasted pepper and tomato salad), Couscous piled high with vegetables, and Jawhara (a layered dessert of fruit and almonds) and by the time we sat down to eat, we had enough food to feed a small army. I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in a kitchen in a long time. Before we left, Chef Yassine showed us how to make preserved lemons, which I packed up and took home as a souvenir I can actually use.

Talia and I enjoying the meal we created - yes, it was in fact a private cooking class!

In the afternoon, I focused on taking photos to try and capture it all. Of course, it’s impossible to truly do Chefchaouen justice through a camera lens, but I tried anyway. There are even photo spots throughout the medina — some that charge a small fee — which makes sense, because nearly every doorway looks like it could be a magazine cover.

The next morning, I made my way to Akchour. The hike through the mountains follows a clear river, and cafés line the trail with tables right in the water. It’s the kind of place where you can order juice and tajines, dip your feet in the stream, and just sit for a while. I made it to the petite cascades and spent part of the day by a waterfall, drinking fresh pomegranate and orange juice, and listening to the sound of rushing water. I kept thinking how much I wished I’d brought my swimsuit — the water looked too good to resist.

A view from one of the many waterfalls we passed on our hike.

On my way back, I stopped again in Chefchaouen to hike up to the Spanish Mosque. The view from the top is incredible — the whole blue city stretched out below, surrounded by mountains. It was the perfect way to end the weekend.

A view from the Spanish Mosque, which overlooks the city of Chefchaouen.

Trips like this remind me why I love being here. Morocco has this way of slowing you down and pulling you into the moment. Between the markets, the food, and the people you meet along the way, it’s hard not to feel both grateful and grounded.

More photos of my weekend can be found here:

Adventures