Headed to Chauen; re-routed into politics

As part of my effort to meet Moroccan veterans of the Spanish Civil War, I set up an appointment a couple weeks ago with the representative of the Association Nationale des Anciens Combattants (ANAC) in the beautiful blue northern town of Chauen. Little did I know that my interaction with him would end up being a lesson on the Moroccan political environment.

"Look at the peaks!"

I think I mentioned in a post back in the fall that the translation of the name of a beautiful northern town -- Chefchaouen -- means "look at the peaks." It's apt. The Rif Mountains are lovely; they most certainly ought to be admired. But mountains, as we know, require more than just ogling, and so imagine my excitement when my landlord mentioned two or three months that he belongs to a hiking group. "You can come too, if you can keep up," he offered.

Oct-over? Already?

After a week or so of settling into the new apartment, it feels like Cath and I were here hardly at all during the last two.

Our extra-Fes excursions have been three-fold: to the nearby town of Azrou, to the Sahara Desert and to the small cities of Tetouan and Chefchaouen up north. Although the latter was an independent trip undertaken by just Cath and myself, the first two were organized for larger groups; together, I think that the trips encompass two rather distinct styles of travel.