Royal Air Maroc airline left a bit to be desired but it was OK even though it left very late. We met a lovely couple from Vienna and shared a taxi to the same hotel. Being Morocco, we still got charged the same as it is based on per person which we should have known.

Our hotel was alright in a good location in Casablanca, but it was a shock to be back in a Muslim country and reminded us of a cross between the Middle East and India. But that was twenty years ago since we were there and we aren't spring chickens anymore so the whole woman as second class citizens is a little hard to take. I would not enjoy travelling as a woman alone that's for sure.

Casablanca as we knew was (we hope) going to be the least enjoyable place in Morocco and it proved to be true. It is the economic centre of Morroco and was really very unappealing with the need to constantly side step all the smelly human pee everywhere. Morrocan men really just go anywhere and everywhere. Gross. Arabic and French are the main languages though everyone talked to us in French, but I think they appreciated it when we spoke to them in Arabic as French is considered upper class. The next day after a cold night's sleep, we sorted out our bus tickets for Chefchaouen and then onto Fes. You can't book online so it was a matter of going to the ticket office and then we sorted out sim cards as they have been invaluable in each country and for very small money compared to home.

We then went and had our first tangine in the medina. Medina means "old city" in Arabic and is typically walled with many maze-like streets. I had a traditional beef, date, apricot and almond tangine while Josh opted for the chicken, olives and lemon. Both were pretty darn good. Of course, no alcohol being Muslim, which we will find hard for two weeks!

The only thing of interest to see in Casablanca is the Hassan II Mosque which we timed so we could do a tour and be able to go inside.

This flamboyant building was built at enormous expense to commemorate the former king's 60th birthday. Set on an outcrop jutting over the ocean and with a 210m-tall minaret that serves as the city's major landmark, it is a showcase of the very best Moroccan artisanship: hand-carved stone and wood, intricate marble flooring and inlay, gilded cedar ceilings and exquisite zellij (colourful ceramic tiling) abound.

The mosque is commonly thought to be the world's third-largest mosque after those in Mecca and Medina, and can accommodate 25,000 worshippers. Built and partially funded by King Hassan II (the remaining funds were gathered through a somewhat controversial public subscription process), the mosque complex was designed by French architect Michel Pinseau, took six years to build and was completed in 1993. Its dramatic location overhanging the ocean waves echoes verse from the Quran, which states that God's throne was built upon the water. Believers pray on a centrally heated floor, and can see the Atlantic breaking over the rocks underneath the glass floor in the basement and feel the sunlight through the retractable roof.

The size and elaborate decoration of the prayer hall is simply spectacular. A team of over 6000 master craftspeople was assembled to work on the mosque, delicately carving intricate patterns and designs in cedar from the Middle Atlas and pink granite from Agadir. The gates were made from brass and titanium, and the ablution fountains in the basement, which are shaped like huge lotus flowers, were carved from local marble.

The tour was not great was it was amazing to see it.

Good old google maps decided that our most efficient route back to our hotel would be via the slums which was not a good idea and I particularly, felt really unsafe after reading that two suicide bombers were from there as the people are so desperate, which the Government is basically ignoring. I was sooo pleased to get back unscathed. We had dinner at the only vaguely looking Ok place as there are a lot of bars in Morocco where only men go and not much else in Casablanca.

The bus the next day proved to be pretty good, even if it did take seven hours and stopped off a couple of times but not in not the most salubrious places so we didn't get off until we reached Chefchaouen.

As expected we were ambushed as soon as we got off the bus by taxi touts and being the marijuana growing area of Morocco, asked multiple times if we wanted some kif in very lowered voices.

After negotiating our taxi, it took us up the hill just outside the medina and then we hiked up to our hotel.

Wow, our hotel was amazing. It was a traditional riad painted the Chefchaouen blue. A riad is a morrocan house with an interior garden or courtyard, my favourite architecture, ever since we stayed in one in Syria.

It was a three-storied building with maze like corridors and stairs with rooms around the courtyard and our room was at the top, complete with its own courtyard and fire place. I think I could live here.

Chefchaouen, beautifully perched beneath the raw peaks of the Rif, is an artsy, blue-washed mountain village that feels like its own world. While tourism has definitely taken hold, the balance between ease and authenticity is just right. The old medina is a delight of Moroccan and Andalucian influence with red-tiled roofs, bright-blue buildings and narrow lanes converging on busy Plaza Uta el-Hammam and its restored kasbah. A kasbah is a type of fortress.

We were offered a mint tea and of course accepted. I forgot just how much sugar they put in it. I watched as for two glasses of tea, we had seven dessert spoons of sugar! Even though it was 10.30pm we ventured down to the square and chose a restaurant and sat outside watching life go by.

The next day after a Morrocan breakfast by the garden of feta cheese, olives, eggs and bread, we got lost in the medina as one does and took countless photos of the picturesque blue streets and buildings plus of course the gazillion cats.

Chefchaouen was founded in 1471 by Moulay Ali Ben Moussa Ben Rached El Alami, a distant descendant of the Islamic Prophet Muhammad. The original settlement consisted of just a small fortress, now referred to as Chefchaouen's kasbah. The fortress was erected to help defend the area from potential attacks by Portuguese invaders since at the time, Portugal was launching attacks against northern cities and towns in Morocco.

A settlement eventually grew outside of the fortress with the construction of the medina. During the Middle Ages, local tribes, Moors from Spain, and Jews populated the area.

Many years later, the Spanish captured Chefchaouen in 1920, forming part of Spain's territory in Morocco. The area saw a large influx of Jews fleeing from Europe and Hitler during the Second World War. Most Jews later left the area in the late 1940s and early 1950s to live in Israel. The city was given back when Morocco gained independence in 1956.

In Jewish beliefs, the colour blue represents the sky, which in turn reminds people of heaven and God. There is, therefore, a strong tradition among Jewish communities of painting things blue and using blue dye to colour fabrics, especially prayer mats.

Some people believe that early Jews in Chefchaouen introduced the practice of painting walls blue, in keeping with their religious and cultural practices. Many locals say, however, that the blue-coloured walls of Chefchaouen were only found in the Jewish part of the city, the mellah, until fairly recently. Older residents say that most of Chefchaouen's buildings within the medina used to be white during their younger years.

Painting the walls blue likely happened in the 15th century, shortly after the city was founded. Some people say that the wave of Jewish immigrants in the 1930s was responsible for adding more blue hues to the city. With historic tensions between Jews and Muslims, it is unlikely that the local Islamic people knowingly replicated Jewish practices. Whatever the reason the tradition is still kept and is a visual feast. Interestingly enough, Spanish is also spoken here still along with French and Arabic. Bummer we can't speak any of it apart from greetings etc and my bad school French.

After walking around and visiting the tranquil kasbah, I braced myself for our first real bargaining and went and purchased a leather bag for NZD30 which I was delighted with as I expected it to be more and the haggling to be harder. There are stalls and shops selling a multitude of items, from leather bags and morrocan sliippers, to light shades and jalabas (wool cloaks with pointy hoods from the rif mountains), colourful pottery and silver trinkets and tea sets. We could have spent a fortune, but alas we have to be frugal with luggage.

We bumped into our fellow riad guests, a couple of women from the Netherlands and ended up going out for dinner at a great little cheap restaurant. After sharing a tangine, we tried out the Morrocan desert parties of filo, which are either filled with dates or almonds and covered in syrup, not bad.

Our friendly riad cat decided to sleep in our room as we felt sorry for her as it was a chilly night as she just wouldn't leave. Kind of nice though.

The next day we took another long and slightly uncomfortable bus ride to Fes. The only really eventful thing apart from trying out Shwarma, a flat bread filled with meat (not that great), our driver suddenly stopped and got out and almost came to blows with another driver while the whole bus looked on. Yes, the driving here is pretty mad and reckless, and you can definitely see why Morroco is sixth in the world for the most car accidents. One reason why we are not renting a car here! We wish we could stay another day in Chefchaouen (or Chauoen as the locals call it), as the city is so pretty and relaxed. But onwards we go.