The light was just right and they are taken from the other side of the bus while sitting and zooming past the other passenger’s heads. This camera we have is the new Panasonic Lumix. On the sports setting it negates the movement. It takes extremely good night shots and does not need a tripod. The village has only 45,000 inhabitants, so back to the country again. As we rounded the last bend we saw the houses clinging to the side of the mountain. The houses particularly in the old town are painted a pale blue to mauve colour. The colour is like it has had the blue watercolour of a painter’s palette washed over it. We will let the photos do the talking.
All I can say is that we had to self talk. “NO MORE PHOTOS OF BLUE HOMES”. The tops of the walls were still white, so it was dazzling. Everything looked like it had a new coat of paint and it had. The King is touring Morocco in a few days, so there was a big clean up going on. New roads, paving being repaired, new flag poles going in everywhere. It was frenetic…besides all the building going on with a supermarket and new hotels springing up. Big changes to this sleepy village I think. As we climbed up the seriously steep roads and up the untold number of stairs we came across their waterfall which was gushing down in cascades through the village. 
There were a series of gutters and little inlets to let water into people’s homes…very ingenious. I can only imagine how much water was flowing last week. They had several days of torrential rain before we arrived as evident from our bus ride. There were bridges and roads washed out and many crops destroyed.
It must have been heartbreaking as the small farmer hand ploughs his lot with the donkey and hand seeds the plants. The amount of mudslides were incredible as well. We found a beautifully restored kasbah in the medina which wasn't blue, so we just had to take another building picture.
It was breathtaking to look everywhere, the waterfall, the huge mountains and the steep green valley with the mountains on the other side. It was cold as was evident from the snow at the top of the mountain but the air was so fresh and it was very clear while we were there. There was something in the air it was so relaxing. Must have been the Rif (hashish) that is grown and used around these parts. Nick was offered some several times but declined. Nobody asked me. Apparently over 40% of the world’s hashish is grown in Morocco. We looked and looked but could not find a hint of it growing anywhere, only olive trees by the thousands and thousands. We walked the 2km up to the disused mosque and minaret that we saw from the village up the donkey and goat tracks to find they are being restored.
What a view from there of the village. The sun was just in the right place and was beaming off the blue and white homes below and across the valley. We were chatting to a couple of Canadians guys from Sydney, Nova Scotia when one of them asked us if we wanted to share his joint. We politely declined. We would have our kicks the natural way…wowsers that we are. Then to top this day off the call to prayer came from the literally tens of mosques (they all have loud speakers) from around the valley and from the village. It echoed around and around each with their own words from the Koran. This happened to us on top of the highest point in Cairo and had the same effect on us. 
If you are ever lucky enough to travel to Morocco don’t miss this place. Off to Tangier tomorrow, the gateway to Morocco from Europe particularly Spain by ferry. I am a bit apprehensive about this city as the stories and imagination run riot about the port and the surrounding areas. We will see.
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