Chaouen to Al Hoceima

The Rough Guide to Morocco states that “there are very few journeys in Morocco as spectacular as that from Chefchaouen to Al Hoceima. The road precisely—and perversely—follows the backbone of the Western Rif, the highest peaks in the north of the country.” If there was ever any need to refer to a road as being “perverse,” then this was most definitely the correct time to do so. My research led me to Al Hoceima because of a mass grave that was discovered in 2007, and this is the only reason I boarded the bus at 0615 and braved 6 hours of twisting and turning roads past the marijuana plantations and snow-topped peaks. I was popping motion sickness medicine like it was candy and even offered some to several of my fellow bus-haters, but they politely refused, as their heads were already in plastic bags. Sure the views were great, but I would have been fine with maybe an hour of this so called “spectacular” drive. There’s something unnerving about the phrase “insh’allah” (if God wills it), when you ask the driver if you’ll be arriving soon and he responds with “insh’allah”. Not really what I want to hear when I’m gripping my armrest so tight, my knuckles are white…
However, the best part was when all of a sudden we emerged from in between two peaks and the solid blue Mediterranean Sea was right in front of us. When Lea, John, and I arrived in town, we sought out a hotel where we could drop off our bags before grabbing lunch—I have another bone to pick with Rough Guide: That supposedly “reliable hot water” at our hotel and “clean rooms”? Yeah. Nowhere to be found. We grabbed some delicious kefta (ground spiced meat) sandwiches and walked down to the beach to eat them, where we ended up spending the rest of our afternoon, passed out in the sun from this morning’s drive. The beach is just a small 500 yard stretch of sand, but because it’s not peak tourist season it’s surprisingly empty (though there were a few more people today because it’s Morocco’s Labor Day). The ferry boarding dock is to our left, and there are some cliffs bordering the coast to the right (perfect for diving into the water!). It’s tempting to hop over to Spain for some sangria and tapas, but I’m not so sure the study abroad people would be too happy about that. Besides all our laziness over here, we’re all working pretty hard on our ISPs, and planning on returning to Chef on Tuesday to finish writing them. Wish us luck!
Note to the Moroccan transportation authority: painting a solid white line down the middle of a six-foot wide stretch of concrete does not constitute a two-lane road.