Sunday, November 01, 2026

The clocks went back, return home from Tarifa and to our routines, another deadly high speed train accident in Spain, Pippa fighting for her life and other stories of the week.

 Madrid, Sunday 1st November, 2026

Reunited with Pippa at the hospital on Friday afternoon 

Good morning from Madrid. What a week it has been!

Our two week road trip ended last Sunday when we returned from Tarifa. The clocks had gone back and I, at least, felt rather disorientated. First we had to get used to it being 2 hours ahead in Morocco when we left Ceuta. Then we had to get used to it being 2 hours behind in Spain when we landed in Tarifa and the next day, when we woke up there the clocks had gone back an hour. I didn't know whether I ws coming or going. After packing, we went in search of breakfast which we found in one of the few local bars open at 7 am. It was in the old town, not far from our lovely hotel Convento.

This was where we had breakfast in Tarifa last Sunday, the day we returned home
We then had to go and get the car which was parked about 1km away and drive it back to the hotel to load it with our luggage. Unknowingly, my husband left one of the bags behind and thank God it was only the one holding my coffee press, tea, coffee and various daily supplements and some cooking equipment and not the bag with all our devices. Needless to say, I had to replace it all this week on Amazon.

We had a long drive ahead of us; more than 700km and although the sat-nav insisted on taking us through Mérida, we changed that to going via Córdoba which is all motorway. We only stopped for petrol and then lunch at Despañaperros, a dramatic river gorge that separates Andalucia in the province of Jaen from the next region; Castilla La Mancha.

We were home by 6.30 when it had just turned dark. That's the part I hate about putting the clocks back as they make it darker in the evenings. And there was sweet Pippa to greet us and, of course, Tana, without whom, we could not run our small rental business. Oh how lovely to be reunited with our dear 11 year old -soon to be 12 - miniature chocolate dachshund. She looked so well, none of us could envisage she would suddenly be at death's door on Friday this week. Oh what a scare she has given us. Suzy was not here but we would see her the next day. She told me later that now she has her life back. Indeed she does.

It took a while to unpack and settle in although that took a little longer. I met some of our guests, notably Keith and his son Finn from Galway, Ireland. What great people and how nice to be able to speak my native tongue to them all week. I love the Irish and the lilt in their accent too. I also met two lovely Peruvians, a mother and her daughter who were very happy with our place. 

Before going to bed we gave Pippa a much needed bath and I brushed her teeth. It was early to bed and how lovely to sleep in our own bed, for me, at least, the most comfortable in the world. And it was good to be the three of us in the bed too. Pippa had slept on Tana's floor but far prefers our comfortable mattress and being with us. 

We watched the news and were horrified by the violent protests in Barcelona, mimicking those in Paris and other cities. It seems to me that the protesters were out to enjoy being violent, ransack and loot shops and attack the police with no political motive whatsoever. I read later there is a horrible group called Blocus, among others,  who are hell bent on causing violence and disruption and wrecking whatever is in their sight. This is street terrorism at its worst and has to be stopped. It happened in other cities this week such as in Bilbao where sympathiers of the ETA terrorist group joined in the violence. There may be more to come as Blocus (led by a young Moroccan man, at least here in Spain)  threatened to carry out similar attacks on Halloween last night.  These street attacks have no room in the Spain I know and I am appalled at what is happening. Thankfully, the Spanish police thwarted all attempts of violence. However, similar protests went ahead in France and in Germany where shops were looted. This has to stop.

Monday dawned and I must have been so exhausted, I actually slept a whole 8 hours. That hardly ever happens but my body must have been in dire need. That morning I met my French guests, Sophie and her husband from Marseilles who had been here before but always in our absence.  It was a sunny morning and the weather has been unbeatable this week, considering it is now the beginning of November. 

There was lots of news that morning. Lula had won the elections in Brazil against Bolsonaro junior who first disputed the results and then promptly left the country for the USA worried he might be put in jail for money laundering or similar. The opposition leader and Nobel Peace Prize Winner, Maria Corina Machado finally returned to Venezuela with the help of Trump I suppose. Real Madrid beat Barcelona in the latest "clásico" and seem to be doing better under Mourinho who has been their coach on and off over the years. In Serbia the long serving and authoritarian Alexsandar Vucic, was ousted by a student movement. So there is hope for Serbia and maybe this country can finally join the EU. I would love the UK to rejoin and amazingly there is talk about it. Finally Alex Burnham is addressing the elephant in the room. There were elections in Israel too but although Netanyahu hasn't gained the majority, whoever forms the government won't change things and the people of Gaza will continue to suffer. A nasty piece of news I read this week is that Meghan Markle's father is suspected to be a sex offender of the grossest kind. 

But for us, life was back to normal as were our routines.  We went to have coffee at Alverán and then did the shopping as the cupboards were pretty bare. As Suzy says, there is always food in the house when we are at home.
Doing the shopping on Monday
We also took the car for a good wash. Here is our lovely new T-Roc in the car wash.
Washing our car on Monday which got so dirty on the road trip
Life has got very sophisticated even for washing your car. In the old days children would wash their parents' car and get paid for it as an "odd job". That wasn't my case as my parents never had a car.

Tana made our lunch and it was wonderful not to have to make it, serve it, or wash up afterwards. It was siesta time in the afternoon and at 5.30 my time, Amanda and I had our weekly Facetime call which we didn't interrupt during our road trip. In any case, it was good to catch up again. 

Oli, Miguel and the kids came for dinner that day. We hadn't seen them since before we left so it was good to be reunited. We served them soup and "perushki" (little Russian flaky meat pies), made by Tana to my mother's trusted recipe. We will see them again tomorrow which is a holiday for All Saints and both Miguel and Olivia work. I look forward to that.

Tuesday saw us resume our walks with Pippa who I am sure had missed them.  Knowing what we knew later, maybe we shouldn't have taken her. 

Suzy went into town to get hair extensions and she completely changed her look. She is happy with it but says the plait underneath itches a lot. She is happy to have long hair again which I only remember her having as a teenager and never so long.
Suzy's new look with hair extensions
She went in with red hair and came out with black hair when her real hair colour is brunette.  I also went to the hairdresser but did not get a new look. I have had the same look for years and years. I needed to dye the roots and give it a good cut. It was while I was at the hairdresser that I felt the beginnings of cystitis once again, or what they call dysuria with ever more frequent visits to the small room all the time. So had the bacteria come back again? All we could do was to go to A&E and report the issue. I took the latest culture with me and told them I had had 4 different types of antibiotics since 22nd September and that every time I finish the bout the dysuria comes back. The guy who eventually saw me said "we are killing the bacteria but don't know what is causing it". I suppose that is it. In any case, he prescribed more antibiotics which I am on now for 10 days. I had seen a urologist before our road trip and had an ultrasound on my bladder and kidneys this week to rule out a possible cause which would be urine retention which thankfully I do not have. I am seeing the urologist on 5th November so let's see what he has to say as this is a bloody awful problem I could do without.

I was back on time to meet and greet a new guest, Lucía, have a cursory dinner and fall into bed. 

Wednesday came and I was up at the crack of dawn, at 5.45 having only slept about 4 hours thanks to the dysuria and the discomfort. I was cheered up though when I got on the scales for the first time in a month and during my last week on Mounjaro. It must have helped as despite all the Moroccan food, including nougat and baklava, I had actually lost more weight. The scales told me I weighed 58.7kg (9.3 stone), down from 59.6 the last time. I have lost a total of 7.9kg (1.2st), down from 66.6 in May when I began my second journey on Mounjaro. I was very pleased and sought out some old but small size trousers which I can now wear with a belt!! That means my waist is smaller too. I was very happy with this piece of news. 

I was terribly upset though when I learned of a new high speed train accident that happened that morning at around 8.30 am. 69 people died when one high speed train on the way to Seville from Madrid crashed into another high speed train on the same side of the track but not moving. It happened in Urda in the province of Toledo. How on earth could this happen in 2026 with the safety systems in place? I quote The Economist here when I say "Spain's high-speed network, the world's largest after China, was once a source of national pride. Now Spaniards are in shock". Indeed we are. So what are the causes? Multiple I should say and mostly due to a lack of maintenance.  However the government are laying the blame on one poor controller who gave the order for the first train to continue at normal speed after the safety system called LZB had shut down and all 6 trains in the area had halted. The LZB signalling system is obsolete and was put in place in 1992 with Spain's first high speed network between Madrid and Seville. The Government, or rather the Minister of Transport, Oscar Puente, was in charge of changing it to a much more modern system for which they obtained funds from the EU. They told the latter the new system was in place but it wasn't. So first the signalling system crashed but then the backup system called ASFA also failed and was blind to the fact there was another train 25km away. The second train, an Iryo, was not able to restart and was stalled on the track when the controller gave permission for the first train, a Renfe train, to continue at normal speed and it crashed into the other train. And all this is the fault of one man? The fault is of a system that allows for human error. The country is in shock. With general elections coming up, this is not good news for Pedro Sánchez or Oscar Puente who should have resigned when the previous crash happened in January killing 46 people on that same track but for different reasons. This government has squandered money and has failed to keep in perfect state its railway system, until now, one of the best in the world. You can understand crashes like this happening in a third world country but not in Spain in 2026. What else can I say? I am appalled and embarrassed too. And I will not be travelling on a train here until it is safe to do so. Right now it isn't.

I woke up on Thursday after a better night's sleep. But Pippa didn't. As always, I was up early and picked her up off the bed and walked out and down the stairs to the kitchen. I realised she was stuck on the stairs so picked her up and took her down. I then took her outside and realised she could not put her weight on her back paws. So I put her in her bed in the kitchen and when she didn't want to eat or drinkI realised there was something very wrong. Could it be a pinched nerve or could it be IVDD, a disc problem common in dachshunds and which would require an operation.  I couldn't get an appointment with her vet until 6 in the evening. Suzy came with me and her vet, Lola, was in doubt too. She gave her an anti inflammatory injection and pain killer and said to come back on Friday if she wasn't better. She also gave us the names of the centres she recommends for IVDD surgery. I took her home with great care and lay her on the floor on her blanket and saw she was very groggy and poorly, probably from the injections. 

Friday came and she looked bad. Her eyes were glassy too and she wouldn't touch her food. I rang the Vet Hospital (UAX) not too far from here and got an appointment with the neurology department at 11 am, almost sure she had IVDD. We took her in her bed which we put onto the back seat of the car so as not to lift her. 
Pippa at the Vet  Hospital on Friday morning. 
Soon we were called in by a specialist vet called Federica who is Italian and seemed very professional. She is used to dogs with disc issues and as soon as she put Pippa on the floor she ruled it out. She noticed it wasn't just her back paws that were paralysed but also the front paws and her face too. Dear Pippa could not blink or close her eyes. She concluded almost without doubt that Pippa had a horrible disease I had never heard of called "Polyradiculoneuritis". In humans it is called Guillain-Barres syndrome and in dogs ACS or Coonhound Paralysis. She explained it is an auto immune disease which attacks the nerves and muscles. The immediate worry was that her diaphragm would not work because of the paralysis and she would stop breathing. Oh God, I broke down crying while sitting on the floor next to Pippa and asked Federica if my dog was going to die. She said there was a 50% chance. Meanwhile, they did a lot of tests to rule out anything else. Pippa, of course had to be admitted and we left to go home while she was fighting for her life. I felt distraught.  However, 2 or 3 hours later Federica rang me with relatively good news. Pippa had tested positive for Hypothyroid Polyneuropathy in the blood test results and explained that both diseases have very similar symptoms of paralysis. That didn't mean she was out of the woods and they needed to see if she would respond to her first dose of levothyroxine. We were told she could still stop breathing and I received an email asking for consent to intubate and put her on a ventilator if this happened. Oh my God!  As this was no longer a neurological problem but  an underactive thyroid they changed vets and one called Sara rang me with the latest news.  I wanted to know why this hadn't been detected by Federica and was told it only came out in the blood test. In any case I got a complicated explanation of her condition which I hardly understood. 

A while later, at around 5 pm, Suzy and I were going to see Pippa during visiting times and would meet her new vet. When we finally saw them both, we were given good news. Pippa was responding to the medication and while with us she finally ate something and with gusto. She was delighted to see us but still paralysed of course. 
Reunited with Pippa on Friday evening.


We were told her prognosis was guarded but to me she looked a whole lot better. We went again yesterday and were told she had recovered the feeling in her back paws although she still couldn't blink. She now has conjunctivitis and her eyes look bad but that is not dangerous. She had eaten again and we were told she would be discharged today. However, she will need a lot of care, with the eye drops and medication, being fed, etc and moved every couple of hours. She will also need rehabilitation at home and at the hospital. They don't know how long it will take for her to walk again but she is on the road to recovery. To think we almost lost her. She is so much part of the family I don't want to imagine her leaving us. We love her so much as you probably all know.

On Saturday we were on our own. I hardly saw our guests. I did some cooking in the early morning and made vegetable soup and a chickpea stew for my husband who loves spoon food. We also went out to do more shopping as, believe it or not, we were running out of fresh food. The rest of the morning was spent visiting Pippa and after lunch we had a siesta.

Eladio reunited with Pippa yesterday 


Well, I only rested. At around 5 I had a lovely long video call with my friend Kathy and it was great to catch up on her and Phil's news. I do wish we saw each other more often. 

Somewhat relieved about Pippa's condition, I slept better last night. Yesterday was Halloween which I, of course, completely ignored as I hate it.

Today is Sunday and she is coming home. We will have a quiet day for sure.

That is it from me for now this week. I hope I haven't bored you with my story about Pippa. Other people's kids and pets don't usually interest anyone, so I am sorry if I have.

Hopefully, next week I will have more uplifting news for you all.

Cheers till then, all the best, Masha










Saturday, October 24, 2026

Second half of our mini road trip. Our Moroccan adventure continued. Exploring Tetouan, a sublime moment in the last Synagogue in the Jewish Quarter, onward to Chefchaouen, the Blue City in the Rif Mountains, then to Tanjiers. Goodbye Morocco, hello Tarifa and the end of our road trip.

Tarifa, Spain, Sunday 25th October, 2026
Dressed as locals in Chefchaouen on Monday the day we arrived in The Blue City

Good morning from Tarifa, the southernmost point of Europe and the Iberian Peninsula and gateway to Africa. where in all my years in Spain I have never been and always wanted to come. 

We are now back in Spain after a wonderful adventure in Gibraltar, Ceuta and Northern Morocco (Tetouan, Chefchaouen and Tanjiers) as well as Tarifa and I have many stories to tell you this week. This trip has been a history and geography lesson in itself and we have soaked in the local culture wherever we have been. You won't read much about visits to museums or the most important local monuments, but you will read about our interactions with local people and their history which is what we most appreciate when we travel. Below is a map of the places we visited.

Map of the places we visited on our road trip.
  

Before I continue, let me tell you a bit about Morocco where we arrived last Saturday. The first time we ever came was in 1980. I have been back but just to Marrakesh in about 2005 and again in 2016. A local asked me if I thought it had changed. I replied yes and no. It has developed but many things remain the same. Morocco is still medieval in many ways with quite a lot of apparent poverty.  It has a population of around 37 million  and the main languages are Arabic and Amazigh with Moroccan Arabic (Darija) widely spoken as well as French and Spanish. I should add French is only really spoken by the more educated people. Islam, of course, is the official state religion with 99% being Sunni Muslims. The country is governed with an iron hand, I would say, by aging King Mohammad VI who holds all the power and the wealth. Nominal GDP is just 5.41 dollars per person, 79% less than the global average. The minimum wage is supposed to be  290 euros per month but as I have witnessed, often it is a lot less and impossible to live on.  So, of course, there is a massive submerged economy where people try to eke out a living. Medical care is not free and that is a huge problem in this country.   Pensions also are very low with about 70% of the private sector earning less than 183 euros per month. No wonder we saw so many people selling what they could at every corner in the Medina in Tetouan and other places. As to women's rights, women may have power at home but have many legal inequalities. They can't get a passport, travel abroad,  sign documents without their husband's permission and if they divorce they face social stigma and financial problems. As to single mothers, as we saw with Jadilla's case in Ceuta last week, unwed mothers are ostracised both by their families and by society and it is considered a crime. Then there is the problem of LGBT rights; they are non existent and a crime but of course it exists although in secret. Unemployment is high, especially for the youth and that is why many try to enter Spain illegally in search of a better world. Now back to our road trip.

Last Sunday we spent a whole day in Tetouan or rather in the Medina (old town). Tetouan was an ancient Berber and Roman settlement called Tamuda. In 1492 Andalusian  and Jewish refugees fled there after the Reconquista and when the Jews were expelled. The Jews who fled Spain were and are still called today, Sephardis. Many of them still talk what is known as Ladino today. Both groups influenced the culture and the architecture is still apparent today. From 1913 to 1956 Tetouan was the capital of the Spanish Protectorate which happened after France and Spain divided the country between them. Thus still today, many people, especially elderly men, speak perfect Spanish. Franco gave the region back to Morocco in 1956. People, maybe not aware of this history and mainly come to see the Medina which was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1977. The Medina is the best preserved one in the country and the most complete Andalusian Medina in the world. I read it was a living monument to Hispano-Moorish culture.

That morning after an okayish breakfast in our amazing but rather impractical Riad, we explored the Medina mostly in the rain. We also went in search of Eladio's brother, Toño and my sister-in-law, Dolores who, amazingly, were in Tetouan that very day. They have been on a package tour of Morocco but didn't get a local Sim card so were hard to find and, unfortunately, it never happened.

Our Riad was in the middle of the labyrinth like Medina and we wondered if we would ever be able to find our way around. GPS worked on my local Sim card but coverage was patchy. In the end the best GPS were the locals. Many old men approached us in perfect Spanish to help us on our way. We learned how to reach one of the the 7 gates that open into the Medina which is 5km long. The main one seemed to be Queen's Gate - Bab Okla. We also learned that Bab means gate. We learned more local vocab too such as Dar which means house. Other important phrases I already knew such as hello: Salam Alekam to which you reply Alekam Salam and also Shukran meaning thank you. Many of our impromptu guides also wished us a long life. I have to say the people we met were kind to us and I never felt in danger at all. If we were interested in the people, it seemed they were equally interested in us. Just before we got to the gate I wanted a photo next to the entrance inside the Medina of the lovely colourful flower pots on some of the white walls. 

At the entrance to the Medina from Queen's Gate surrounded by colourful flower pots on the white walls, a very typical sight in Andalusia.

And here is Eladio outside Bab Okla.

Eladio outside the Queen's Gate in Tetouan - Bab Okla
While on the lookout for Eladio's brother, I got talking to Rashid, a street cleaner who spoke perfect Spanish, quite a lot of English and also French. He earns 200 euros a month:-( These people are quite poor but educated and all had a smile for us. It is true some wanted a tip for helping us around, but not everyone. Rashid told us most guided tours start at the Royal Palace, once the Plaza de España and now King Mohammad V square so we headed there. I learned it is the Royal residence and is not open to the public. There were plenty of military around guarding it like this group of uninformed men.
The Royal Palace in Tetouan is heavily guarded
I spied Eladio on the other side of the road talking to yet another local. 

Eladio talking to a local
It then began to rain so we sat at the small cafe with the two chairs you can see in the picture above, to the left of the man carrying a heavy load. We sat and enjoyed Moroccan mint tea until the rain ceased. Abdul, the employee from our Riad was supposed to be giving us a tour of the Medina but had been out on the town the night before and drank too much so we did our own tour. 

From the Royal Palace we explored the old Jewish Quarter (The Mellah and also called The Little Jerusalem)and went in search of the last Synagogue. That was the highlight of our stay in Tetouan. We walked into what is the last one of 16 to 18 that existed at the historical peak of the Jewish Quarter.  Called Isaac Ben Walid, there we met the last custodian, 85 year old León Bentolila, who I later learned is one of the most remarkable and deeply respected figures in the city. We got talking to this remarkable man who showed us the 3000 year old Torah Arc. He is proud of his Sephardic origin and is married to Sarah from Melilla from whom he got his Spanish nationality. Once an important wholesaler of dates and nuts to the local market vendors, he is the one who with his wife conserves the last Synagogue. He told us there are only 7 Jews left in the city and that there are no more services. For there to be a service there have to be 10 Jewish men. So sad. 

Then something surreal and sublime happened. My husband recited a passage from the Bible in Ancient Hebrew. It wasn't just any quote, it was the Protoevangelium, the very first gospel or first prophecy of the coming of Christ from Genesis 3:15. I was awe struck but Leon was not, but I imagine he was surprised. He assumed my husband had to have been a priest as all Christian priests learn Ancient Hebrew for seminary training. The Protoevangelium represents the moment the Christian faith traces the first promise of the Messiah right back to the first book of the Old Testarment. I had to take a photograph of both men, one a Christian, one a Jew, both wearing a Kippah and standing in front of the Torah Ark containing the 10 commandments.  Two men of immense intellectual and cultural calibre standing in that synagogue in Tetuouan will remain with me always. How proud I was of my husband in that moment. He just laughed it off saying he couldn't remember much. But, oh, he does, as he learned Ancient Hebrew, Ancient Greek and Latin over 60 years ago yet can still recite many passages from all three tongues. What a moment.

The surreal moment when the two men of immense intellect and cultural calibre, one Jewish and one Christian,  stand in front of the 3000 year old Torah Arc at the last synagogue in Tetouan. Both  wearing a kippah, they met in the old Synagogue of Tetuoun. Leon Bentolila with my husband Eladio after he had recited the passage from Genesis to him in Ancient Hebrew

It was a privilege to meet the last custodian of the last synagogue of Tetouan and the highlight of our stay, at least for me. As we parted, he said: may you live and have health until 120 years". This is a typical Jewish greeting and is based on the life of Moses who lived to 120 to full vigor. Eladio quoted Pope John Paul's witty reply when told this on his famous visit to Israel: "why put limits on Divine Providence?". León's parting word was "shalom" meaning peace as well as hello and goodbye. Shalom León. It was wonderful meeting you.

From the Synagogue we went past  some of the date sellers and bought some of the Medjoul dates that come from Israel. From there we wanted to go to the Grand Mosque, near our Riad. On our way I took more photos of street scenes in the Medina which attracted me so much.



Scenes from the Medina in Tetouan last Sunday. By the way, the old man in the photo using his mobile later spoke to us in perfect Spanish and there I was thinking he was a beggar.
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We got to the wrong mosque but decided to go in anyway.  Eladio took his shoes off and went in but, not seeing the women's entrance, I stayed outside. I was a bit cheeky to take this photo but I couldn't resist it.
Praying in a mosque in Tetouan
In the maze of the Medina we finally found the Grand Mosque only to be told that non Muslims can't go in:(

Our Riad was right next to the Grand Mosque so we went inside to rest a bit before lunch. I took the time to explore the ground floor of our three floor Riad. It is spectacular, gawdy, lavish, very Moroccan, not my style but magnificent. Eladio posed for photos. Our house was more like a museum than anything else and a stunning one at that.


Some pictures of the ground floor of our Riad in Tetouan
The Riad was called Sherezade and I wondered who she was. It turns out she is the legendary Persian Queen and central character and narrator of One Thousand and One Nights, the famous Arabic fairy tales. Soon afterwards we were to visit another Riad.

I had booked a table at El Reducto. Now a boutique hotel and renowned Spanish Moroccan restaurant, it was once an aristocratic Moroccan Riad. During the Protectorate it was the formal residence of the Viceroy. We loved it.
El Reducto restaurant in the Medina, a spectacular place with marvellous food

I couldn't resist ordering "pastilla" (or pastela) a flaky chicken pie and lamb couscous, neither of which I could finish. We got a doggy bag and had it for a meal another day.
Pastela my favourite Moroccan food
And that was the end of our visit to the Medina. We spent the rest of the day after lunch in our beautiful but impractical Riad where that night, at least, I slept quite well.

Monday dawned, the day of our departure. We left early, at around 8 am which was still 10 am for us on Spanish time. Again Abdul didn't turn up but thankfully the owner sent another employee, Aziz, who was there in minutes. He helped us take our luggage through the maze of the Medina as you can see below in the last picture I took in Tetouan.
Leaving Tetouan on Monday morning
We got our car from the garage which only cost 80 Dirhams, less than 8 euros for 2 nights. With the sat nav on, we began our drive to Chefchaouen, more commonly known as Chaouen. the Blue City or Blue Pearl. To be honest I had never heard of it until a waitress mentioned it at the Parador in Ceuta. I looked it up and fell in love with it just from the pictures I saw. Otherwise we would have gone straight to Tangiers. I am glad we went there. It is the most picturesque town or city I have ever seen. 

It was founded in 1471 by Moulay Ali Ibn Rashid al-Alamias as a small fortress in the Rif mountains for defence against the Portuguese.  It is surrounded by the peaks of the Rif mountains. The name actually means "look at horns", the horns being the peaks of the mountain range. Like Tetouan, many "Moriscos" (those Muslims who had to convert  to Christianity during the Spanish Inquisition) and Jews (expelled from Spain in 1492) came here. Again like Tetouan they gave it its blend of Andalusian-Moroccan heritage.  Spanish rule came in 1920 when troops captured the city during the Rif war. Many locals still speak Spanish. Like Tetouun  Franco returned it to Morocco in 1956. It only transitioned into the Blue City in the 1930's. It is said the Jews inspired the colour but it soon caught on. Others say it was to keep the mosquitoes at bay and others to represent the sea. Whatever the reason, it is the blue washed streets and houses that attract so many tourists here and now I understand why.

Chefchaouen is only 60 odd kilometres from Tetouan but takes over 1.5h as you have to drive up the mountains. I had booked a small apartment at a place called The Blue House just outside the town. What I didn't know is that to get there the path is tortuous and once there we decided to leave the car and rely on the owner, Mohammed, to take us up and down to the town. This place, totally different from our Riad or any hotel I have ever stayed at, is just magical without being luxurious. It has great views of the Blue City and as we got there early, one of the employees, Ashraf, led us to one of the terraces and brought us some tea and biscuits. The views took our breath away.

Our arrival at The Blue House couldn't have been more magical
We were soon shown to our apartment, one of about 7, I think, all self catering and all functional and practical but in the most marvellous setting.


Our accommodation at The Blue House
Once we had settled in, we decided to walk down into the town and begin exploring it. The walk down was difficult but doable and certainly worth it for the views. We felt as if we were in paradise.
On our walk down to Chefchaouen from The Blue House

We came across our first photo opportunity with a special setting or clothes to put on at some vantage point for which you are charged 5 dirhams - less than half an euro. Of course, I couldn't resist this one and others.
A great photo opportunity we had to pay 5 dirhams for but well worth it I thought
Finally we got to the beginning of the city where there were more photo opportunities, such as the one of us dressed as locals which I have chosen for this week's feature photo. Here is another one with the lady who dressed me up and who I was told was aged 110 but I don't believe that.

Dressing up in Chefchaouen on our first day there

There was so much to see we just followed our instinct and explored the place without any sort of plan. We had booked a free walking tour the next day so Monday was just about getting a feel of the place. 


Exploring the Blue City on our first day
We had walked a lot and were hungry for lunch and found a place in the main square called Twins which looked good. I was a bit fed up of tajines, couscous and pastela so went for a Sharma (Duram) and Eladio chose fish. 
Lunch at Twins in Chefchaouen on Monday

We liked the restaurant. Quite a while later, Mohammed picked us up to take us back to our little place in Paradise.

We chilled out in the afternoon. I did some rental admin work and wrote part of this blog. Here is where we were both connected to our PCs.

Chilling out in our little apartment at The Blue House on Monday

I slept okay that night but was up early as usual, even before the proverbial cockerel of which there are two at Blue House. Breakfast was at 9 am and we were served it on one of the lovely terraces. This was ours.
Our breakfast dining room at The Blue House
It was a sumptuous breakfast but not my thing. I prefer a croissants, toast and coffee. Eladio was happy with the local eggs but I did like the Moroccan bread like crepe with peach jam. I later had a lovely chat in French with Mohammed's wife, Mariam, who is a teacher of French at a local school and also helps run the business. It was another great moment as we both clicked immediately. She told me she loved my rainbow coloured sweat shirt, the one I bought in Shaldon.

We had booked a Guru Walking Tour in Spanish beginning at 12.15 but decided to walk down early to the town on foot. We stopped at a place which used to be a  Catholic Church during the Spanish Protectorate. More than anything it has wonderful views. While I was sitting and admiring the view, a cat jumped onto my lap and I had to have a photo.

Me and a cat overlooking The Blue City

I do like cats but found the town and everywhere we went in Morocco to be overrun with them really. 

From the top of the town full of stalls selling colourful but unnecessary things, at least for us, we tried to follow Google Maps to get to the starting point of our tour and the place is such a labarynth, we only just made it. There waiting for us was our guide, another Mohammed and a delightful young couple from Argentina. They were our companions for the next 3 hours of a very long but interesting tour. 
The participants of the Guru Walking Tour on Tuesday in Chefchaouen with Mohammed, our guide, in green in the middle. 
Mohammed began with the history of Chefchaouen. He was to show us the different neighbourhoods or quarters of the Medina: Al Andalus, The Artisans Quarter, The Souika and the Mellah (Jewish Quarter). He also took us to the most interesting streets to see or take photographs of. Here are just a few of the many we took during that excellent tour.






Just some of the photos I took during our Guru Walking Tour on Tuesday

I had an interesting encounter with a man and his donkey. If you know me, you will know I love donkeys so had to have a photo too.
My encounter with a man and his donkey. They were carrying wood to be burned for one of the Turkish baths (Hamams.)
This photo of me and the donkey would become more meaningful when I dug out a photo of my grandparents in 1934 on donkeys too, as you will read below. 

I also took photos of street scenes I found interesting.

Interesting street scenes I saw during our walking tour

By the end of the tour I was parched with thirst and my feet were aching after going up and down so many steep stone steps. I had booked a table for lunch at El Cielo which I adored. Nestled at the end of a picturesque street, it is a little oasis in a big garden. We sat down and this time a cat approached Eladio and stayed with us throughout our wonderful lunch.
Eladio and his feline companion during our lovely lunch at El Cielo after the walking tour on Tuesday

He went for the Ramadan soup and beef tajine and I went for the mezze. This was it.
My delicious mezze

We were served by a delightful young waitress called Cautar who spoke perfect Spanish and seemed so western. She is also a student and has high hopes of a job working for Moroccan borders and customs. I wish her luck and hope if she ever gets to work at the border in Ceuta, that she speeds it up, hahahaa. As we left the restaurant I took my last photo of Chefchauouen. It is of Eladio sitting on the steps coming out of the restaurant onto yet another picturesque blue street. I will forever rememember them.

Outside the El Cielo restaurant; yet another beautiful blue and picturesque street

Mohammed picked us up again and we got talking. Would you believe he is one of 13 brothers and sisters? 3 are male and 10 are female? He told us he has 73 nieces and nephews and when the whole family gets together they are more than 130 people. He also said his nieces and nephews now have their own children but doesn't know all their names, hahaha. He is a fascinating and enterprising chap and he and I had a long chat later about our respective rental businesses. He is the life and soul of The Blue House.

Once "home" we chilled out again. We were tired but ecstatic about our wonderful stay in Chefchaouen. But our next stop was Tanjiers where we already had accommodation and I had to think about our ferry back to Spain. I spent part of the evening  booking our tickets online for this last Friday and hoped Eladio wouldn't get seasick again.

We woke up on Wednesday at The Blue House, somewhere I would love to come back to. We were leaving that day, but first for our last breakfast served by Ahsraf on the beautiful terrace surrounded by vegetation, including a banana tree!
Our last breakfast at The Blue House

Banana tree at The Blue House
After saying goodbye to Mohammed and Ashraf, we were on our way and had to navigate the steep dirt track down to the town which was quite a challenge but we made it. We had our satnav on but there were plenty of signs to Tanjiers which, to get to, we had to bypass Tetouan. There were lots of police controls on the road and I was rather surprised that a van in front of us, so full of people, that one of the passengers had to hang on outside. This was the van. Morocco may have developed a lot since we were last on its roads, but in many ways it hasn't. This is one example.
Driving in Morocco
It took us about 2h to get to Tanjiers and on my way I had trouble with my phone. It had both my Spanish and Moroccan sim cards in it and had worked fine until then. I was suddenly on Chinese time and couldn't fathom why until I went to settings to manage my sims. That's when I saw I must have accidentally put the Spanish card as my main one. I immediately switched to sim number 3 and was back on Maroc Telecom. But oh dear, I wondered what roaming charges I would be billed for. But at least we were now on our way and my phone was back on local time.

Our apartment, Medina Residency, was about 1.5km from the Medina, a 20 minute walk to the centre. We chose it because of the parking spot onsite.  We actually found it quite easily but couldn't check in until 3 pm. So with the car safely parked, we went on foot to explore the city and to have lunch.

Wow, Tanjiers, what a melting pot. It is the 4th largest city in Morocco after Casablanca, Rabat and Fez and has about 1.25 million inhabitants. It sits at the crossroads of the Mediterranean and the Atlantic at the narrowest point of the Strait of Gibraltar. Its location being so strategic made it prized as a strategic port by the Phoenicians. the Romans, Vandals and Byzantines. The Arab conquest in the 8th century brought Islam culture to the region. In the 15th to the 17th centuries it was under Portuguese and British control. The latter withdrew in 1684 and in the 18th century  it became Morocco's main diplomatic and foreign trade centre. For many people, it is its more recent history that makes it unique. The Tangier International Zone was created in 1923 because European colonial powers were desperate to control the Strait of Gibraltar. To avoid a war the Tanjier Statute was signed between France, Britain and Spain declaring the city as a neutral zone. Over time, another 6 countries were incorporated into this council of sorts. To keep everyone happy there were no customs duties, no income tax and total banking secrecy. Thus it became a tax haven, major smuggling capital and a zone where no single country could impose its jurisdiction. It became a pull for spies, millionaires, political refugees and avant garde writers. In WW2 it was a playground for international espionage. The Spanish dictator Franco briefly ruled it during WW2. After the war, the international Zone status was restored with the then USSR joining the council. The Zone was finished with in 1956 when Morocco declared its independence. That put an end to its unique status and it took decades for the city to reinvent itself. No longer a tax haven nor smuggler paradise, now it houses the biggest port in Africa and welcomes many tourists. But still, its past remains in many ways. It is still a melting pot and you hear Spanish, French and Moroccan spoken everywhere and even some English. From what I saw on our very first walk it is where old Morocco meets the new Morocco. 

I remembered  while writing today's post that my own grandparents, my English ones, Reverend John Collins Lloyd and Dorothey née Gertrude Scull, had been there in 1934. It was on their way by ship from England to the Holy Land. I have my grandhather's diary of what must have been the trip of their life and quite audacious for the times.  To think they were in Tanjiers during the Independence Zone gave me goosebumps when I finally found the photo to share with you here. This is it.
My grandparents in Tanjiers in 1934 on their way to the Holy Land. 
You can see who they are in the picture I enlarged of them below.
My grandparents on a mule and a donkey in Tanjiers in 1934

They are on mules and donkeys and reminded me of the donkey I had seen in Chefchouaen earlier in the week.  In the diary, my grandfather writes that Dorothy was given the smallest one. He also described how all the donkeys started to race through the streets of the old city and they had to hold on for their  lives. When I get home I shall read his fascinating diary again. I bet my grandfather never thought his granddaughter with her Spanish husband would visit Tanjiers 92 years later and also visit Jerusalem in 2010 but in very different circumstances. How lovely to follow in his footsteps. P.S. a big thanks to Andy D, for the photo,  who is the custodian of my family archive and now back to the modern day.

We had booked another Guru Walking Tour for Thursday so exploring the city just after our arrival was a bit hit and miss. AI told me the main area to head to, nearest to our apartment, was the Gran Socco in the Medina which is right by the main square, Place du 9 Avril 1947 (when Morocco claimed its independence). We walked along Rue de Fez and then on to Rue de Beligique and saw some of the modern part. But it's all mixed so we still saw scenes typical of an underdeveloped country.
Modest little shops line all the streets here both in the modern and old areas
We bought some Dirhams at a rip off bureau de change and continued on our way. I suddenly saw the sea and we went off route. There we found ourselves looking at the town port and beyond we could see the Strait of Gibraltar and Spain, probably Tarifa where we were heading next and which is only 14km away.

View of the Strait of Gibraltar, the port and in the background, .Spain

We never fround the Gran Socco but did find the Petit Socco which looked interesting. 
Entrance to the Petit Socco

There we got talking to a beggar who spoke perfect Spanish. He told us he had tried to smuggle himself into Spain on a lorry but got caught and that he was hungry and living on the streets. He asked us for food and took us to a little shop where he wanted a huge tin of something that looked like spam and some tuna fish. The price for the spam was the equivalent of 17 euros which I found very high. Later we realised we had probably been ripped off and that he had an agreement with the shopkeeper. We would be more careful next time. 

By then it was past 2pm, we were hungry and came across the Gran Cafe Central with its big open terrace. It looked great although it only had a 3.9 on Google Maps. In the end our meal was very good. Eladio had fish soup and fried sardines and I had a prawn wok followed by the proverbial mint tea. From there we walked through the Petit Socco and came out on the main square, Place du 9 de Avril. It is modern and is the gateway in the city between the old and new areas. 

Place du 9 de avril
From there we walked all the way back to our apartment which didn't take long. Another Mohammed was there to greet us and check us in. He is the concierge of the block of flats which I think are nearly all tourist rentals. The apartment is new, modern, large but totally lacking in style, soul or any sort of atmosphere. It has a very masculine style and Eladio thought it was great. I didn't although it had everything we needed for our 2 night stay, especially a washing machine.

We just chilled out there for the rest of the afternoon and evening as we were so tired. What I did do though was book our accommodation in Tarifa where we came on Friday and are leaving today. Finally Booking had unblocked my account! In the end we chose a hotel called Convento Hotel just outside the old town. I slept quite well that night, our first in Tanjiers, or at least I think I did as I didn't wear my smart watch that tells me how well or not I have slept.

It was Thursday and I was up at 6 am Moroccan time. Later I went out in search of a bakery to get bread and croissants for our breakfast which was quite a walk but worth it. I got the vibes of this melting pot of a city waking up. I had booked a Guru Walking Tour for 10.30 and just before we left, it was cancelled. I had to quickly find another one on Freetour.com which was starting at the same time and place - Le Gran Cafe central. We headed there and while waiting I had another mint tea. The guide did not turn up either. Thankfully, I spied a Spanish speaking tour group which we could join. The guide was also called Mohammed! I have met so many. We had missed his introduction which I suppose was the history of the town and then he walked us through the streets of the Gran Socco, the Kasbah and the Medina which is where we walked around for at least 3 hours. He took us first to the fresh market where women from the villages had brought their produce to sell. I felt rather sick going through the meat part where I saw lots of ghastly sheep heads. The fish market stank too although the fruit and veg part was superb and all much cleaner than the Medina in Tetouan. Our guide pointed out lots of produce on sale from the Spanish supermarket Mercadona and others which can only mean those Moroccans who can cross the border, do so to buy food in Spain and resell it in Morocco. We found plenty and at high prices. Milk is more expensive in Morocco than in Spain! 

Mohammed led us through some very pretty streets with white washed buildings and we could have been in Seville, Córdoba or Granada. He took us to the old jail, through the ancient Kasbah gates and along picturesque streets. He also took us to the Great Mosque where again we couldn't go in. He spoke a lot about his religion, Islam and the sacred scriptures. Eladio, my theologian husband challenged him at times, especially when he said he believed the whole of the Old Testament. He also challenged him on the status of Ceuta but there was no moving him. He explained the 5 pillars of Islam with which we were both familiar as well as the 6 articles of faith or core beliefs. Christianity has moved on in its interpretation of the Bible whereas I do not think the same of Islam. We would have liked to challenge him on the reference in the Koran about husbands being allowed to discipline or strike their wives but preferred to be diplomatic. Our final stop was the Mirador in the Kasbah which looks out on the Strait of Gibraltar and has fantastic views. Here are just some of the photos I took on Thursday on our interesting walking tour which only really touched the surface of Tangiers. I would have loved to see and learn more about the period of the International Zone.











Some pictures from our walking tour in Tanjiers on Thursday 

Our tour ended where it had began at the Gran Café Central, an historic and iconic cafe where we had lunch the day before. It dates back to the late 1800s and was a social hub during the international era, frequented by writers, artists and I imagine spies too.

Gran Cafe Central Tanjier

Just before we parted, I took a photo of our tour group including our guide Mohammed from Amranitours who I can highly recommend. 
Our tour guide and Spanish speaking group on Thursday in Tanjiers.

It was Mohammed who recommended us our place for lunch that day and, as we had no dirhams left it had to be a restaurant that accepted VISA and there are very few. We had lunch at Dada in the heart of the Medina and it was ok, not the best - that was El Cielo - but fine. During our meal we had to sort out a little crisis at home. The Mini had been serviced after some emergency which meant Suzy didn't have  a car to go to work with. The bill was enormous (oh dear) and somehow we had to work out a way of paying it on our phones from Morocco so she could pick up the car. That sort of spoiled our meal but we managed it. From Dada we walked the 1.5km "home" to our refuge and haven in Tanjiers.

That was our last full day in the city I am glad we visited. It lived up to my expectations after having seen a travel programme (Madrileños por el Mundo) about it, one Olivia used to work for as a travel reporter. 

Friday came, the day of our departure. We didn't have to be at the port until 11 am for our 13h ferry to Tarifa, so I suggested we go to the big Carrefour to stock up on dates and baklava to take home, as finally, there we would be able to pay by card. 
Carrefour in Tangiers

It was quite obvious that the French supermarket was in a very rich area of the town, a part we hadn't seen before. In we went and also bought some fruit and much needed toothpaste. While there we went to a tobacconist to get Chesterfield which costs half of what it costs in Spain. We were allowed 2 cartons but I took back many more at the risk of having them confiscated.

From there we drove to the Port (Ville), the small one in town from where our ferry would depart to Tarifa, Spain. We had never done that journey and wondered what it would be like, how it worked and how to go through Moroccan and Spanish security and customs. For sure, it was much easier than leaving Ceuta. We parked inside the port, went to redeem our tickets and then were kindly sent to the front of the queue by the Moroccan port workers. We even had a chat with the boss, Jamal. We had 1.5h to kill and spent part of it taking photos of the Kasbah and Medina as seen from the port.
Last photos in Tangjiers - this one was taken from the port
And here is one of Eladio by the port.
By the port in Tanjiers on Friday
At 11.30 we went back to our car and began the whole process. Everything was new for us and another adventure. We love our adventures. We went through passport control, then the car control after which we had to park it. We didn't understand why until we saw a huge big scanner that scanned all cars, searching, I suppose, for drugs. We then went through a visual inspection of the car that included sniffer dogs but this time, at least, we didn't have to open our suitcases. Security was strict but not tough. Soon we were on board with our car and went inside. We looked for the part of the boat where Eladio would feel least seasick and then I went up on deck to watch the ferry leaving the port and admire the views of the city and the Strait of Gibraltar. The whole journey took just over 45 minutes, less than from Algeciras to Ceuta, as the distance is only 14.5km. Soon I had to remove my Moroccan sim card and revert to using my Spanish sim card which was pretty seamless. Soon too we were approaching Tarifa, the southernmost town in Spain and in Europe where I had never been and always wanted to visit. 
Approaching Tarifa

We were the second car off the boat. Once on land we had to go through passport control which was easy peasy as were arriving in the EU. Customs was easy too. A friendly Guardia Civil asked if we were carrying any tobacco or spirits. I lied and said I had two cartons, when I had 5 (hahaha) and he waved us on. 

It was good to be back in clean and well organised Spain and what a difference from Morocco which,  although interesting for tourists, is basically, poor, dirty and backward. That though is not the fault of its lovely people but of its despotic monarchy. Why I ask myself is Spain rich and the country next door poor? The answer is how it is governed. 

Our hotel, the lovely Hotel Convento was 850m from the port and we were there in a jiffy and greeted by the receptionist, Lola, who is a lovely person. By then it was about 4.30 as Spain is 2 hours ahead of Morocco (when the clocks change here it will be 1 hour ahead - Morocco, btw, never changes the clocks) so as soon as we had checked in, we went out in search of food. Lola recommended a great bar called "El Francés" in the old town and it was excellent. 

Bar El Francés in the old town of Tarifa
We were soon tucking into "patatas bravas" followed by oxtail stew for Eladio and meat balls in tomato for me -  best I have ever had. Dessert was a wonderful concoction of coconut and baked pineapple. We walked back to our hotel with full stomachs and loved our room. It is large, has a small balcony, a little sitting room with a TV and a huge bathroom. Best of all the bed is enormous and I found it comfortable. We didn't go out again, just enjoyed our time in that lovely hotel, El Convento. Lola told us it was originally a Franciscan Priory in the 18th century. Then it was a garrison for Napoleon's troops in the Peninsular War. It went on to become the town hall, a school and today it is a boutique hotel. We love the architecture and it is just a few hundred metres from the Gate of Jérez, leading into the old town.

That night we watched the news for the first time in nearly 2 weeks but nothing was new as, of course we have been following the news the whole time, if more scantily than usual. It was all Spanish politics to do with government corruption cases and the election campaign. I preferred to read up on the history of Tarifa and plan Saturday, the last full day of our road trip.

I slept a whole 6.5h hours that night and woke up at 6.49 am. I consider that  a good night's sleep. We had a great breakfast after which we went out into the sunshine to explore Tarifa where the thermometer reached 26 degrees.

Tarifa is the southernmost town in Europe and the gateway to Africa and Europe. Today it thrives on tourism going to  and from Morocco through the Strait of Gibraltar and is the world capital of sun surfers and has a bit of a hippy vibe. We didn't come her for the surfing but for the town's geography and history. On one side you have the Mediterranean Sea and on the other the Atlantic Ocean. It  has quite a history of its own. Like Tanjiers, it was populated and ruled by Phoenicians, Greeks and Carthaginians and then the Romans. Parts of the Iberian Peninsula came under Islamic rule in 711 until 1492, 8 centuries, as you probably know and that included Tarifa. Spain in 1492 was still an area of various kingdoms and didn't become the nation we know today until much later, after the War of Spanish Succession in the early 1700s. This is what Spain or  I should say, the Iberian Peninsula  looked like in 1492 by the way.
The Iberian Peninsula in 1492

I am transgressing, so back to Tarifa. The origin of the name comes from the Berber commander Tarif ibn Malik who led a raid here. During the Muslim conquest, Tarifa developed as a fortified medieval Medina but the town's main fortress was the castle built by Caliph Abd-ar-Rahman III in 960.  During the Christian Reconquest in the middle ages, King Sancho IV of Castile, reconquered Tarifa in 1292. The hero of the day was Guzmán el Bueno from León where Eladio is from. He refused to surrender the castle even when the Moors threatened and killed his son. Today the castle is known as el Castillo de Guzmán el Bueno and my husband was keen to visit it. And that we did. But first we went through what the Moroccans would call the Medina, the old town, through the Gate of Jeréz.
The main entrance to the old town of Tarifa
And here I am outside the 10th century castle.
Outside the 10th century castle in Tarifa

The views from the castle were amazing. 
The view of the old town from the castle

The view of the port and the Isla de la Paloma - where the southernmost point is
You can see both Morocco and Ceuta in the distance too.

Inside, when I spied the headless figure of commander Guzmán el Bueno who had saved the castle from the Moors, I had to get Eladio to pose. 

Eladio as Guzmán el Bueno, the saviour of Tarifa. 

I am tiring you with the history of Tarifa and Spain so let me tell you about our walk up to the Isla de Las Palomas (Pigeon Island) where the exact southernmost point is. You can't actually visit the island which is fortified by the military but you can walk to it on the road that separates the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. It was a beautiful sunny day and I would have loved to go on the beach at such an important geographical point but I enjoyed the walk and got some good photos. It was a very happy moment. The best one is the one below.
Approaching Pigeon Island where the exact southernmost point is located. The road divides the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. 
There is a little beach at the end on the left and I heard a passerby say he had just seen some Moroccans who had swum to it. So many risk their lives to come here, it is heartbreaking and a big problem too for Spain. 

We then walked the ancient streets of the old town and soaked in the vibes of the streets with their lovely whitewashed houses, so beautifully kept with their pretty patios.

We loved the old town of Tarifa, so picturesque and full of atmosphere
I had always wanted to visit Tarifa and it lived up to my expectations.

The last important item on the agenda on the last day of our road trip was lunch in Tarifa. We chose La Pescadería on  Paseo de la Alameda, a popular street with locals.  Recommended to us by Lola from the hotel, even though we were not very hungry after our huge breakfast, we really liked the place and the food. All we could manage though was a prawn and mango salad followed by a plate of local fried squid (puntillas). Divine. With our heads full of history and geography, our stomachs full of good local food and feeling so happy with life, we ambled back to our hotel to rest.

The clocks went back one hour last night marking the end of Sunmer time. I always hate it when the clocks go back and I wish it hadn't happened at the end of our road trip.

All good things come to an end. Our two week adventure packed road trip of the south of Spain, including Gibraltar  (haha) and North of Morocco has been wonderful with no major mishaps. Today is Sunday and we are going home. It is a long way back, over 700km which you will read about in next week's far less exciting blog post.

Cheers now from Tarifa and thanks for reading my blog,

Masha.