Moroccan families and our last day in Chefchaouen

the mosque we hiked up to

the family that adopted us and fed us for a morning

There were two tables of this food. Mostly made by the older women of the family.

Our last morning in Chefchaouen was magical. We woke up early to hike up to a mosque, situated on a hill that looks over Chefchaouen. As it was a Sunday, we witnessed local women washing their clothes at the laundry station by the river. This is where we picked up Yogi, a plain, white dog who probably belonged to the town, rather than to any one person. We named her yogi because of the various yoga poses she did.

Yogi escorted us up the hill, stopping when we stopped along the way, and then again at the top as we laid down, looking out at the view. She then followed us down the hill through a goat-herder path, not leaving our side even as we re-entered the medina. We kept tabs on her, wondering at which point she would turn around, until we got into our hotel and realized she wasn't with us.

We grabbed "breakfast" at Chez Aziz, a patisserie place we went to the morning before. It was a very light breakfast, so no wonder Claire and I kept peeking desirously at a Moroccan family who set up at a table nearby ours, taking out piles and piles of breads, and cakes, and various sweets. Our yearning was rather obvious, as they beckoned us over and made us eat until we felt like we were going to throw up, offering us everything edible on their two tables. They even bought us moroccan tea. It was a delicious experience, and one of our first insights to Moroccan hospitality. As we were about to end our breakfast, one of the only women who spoke English proclaimed to Claire, "Our lunch is packed in the backseat of the car. Do you want me to get some for you?" We didn't even want to start thinking about lunch.