The Medina

Getting to Morocco should be easy. Only an hour by ferry.

It is not. We spent the entire crossing plus about 25 minutes after the boat had docked queuing to get a stamp in our passports, without which we could not enter the kingdom.

Then another 30 minutes plus in the car trying to get out of the port. Bill's passport was scrutinised four times and eventually a backhander of 40 GBP was needed to get the police to release us from the customs area. Just because neither driver nor car had been to Morocco before.

After a further 30 minutes of queuing in horrendous traffic in Tangier, we eventually emerged into the countryside of Morocco. We had a fascinating drive to the coast and then through the heart of Berber country, where the locals looked a cross between someone from Deliverance and the KKK!

At last we arrived at Chefchaouen. The hotel is situated in the medina where there are no roads for cars and so we had to get Abdul, a friendly local, to act as guide for 20 euros and take us to a place to park and then on foot to our destination.

Which is wonderful. An oasis amidst the chaos of tiny bustling back streets and shops.

After a swim, a scrub in the hammam from Fatima and a drink in the Hotel Parador (everywhere else is dry), we are exhausted and ready for bed.

Exploring starts in earnest tomorrow.