The darkened alleys of Chefchaouen

The stone cobbles, still slick with the evening rain, lead me through the haphazard angles of Chefchaouen.  

As I slip along the darkened, narrow lanes, alone, I sense guttural mutterings ahead.  Steady steps approach from around an angled wall and two figures appear, shrouded in heavy woolen cloaks, pointed hoods pulled up, faces obscured in the shadows.  

Something tightens in my chest, my boots skid on a slick stone.  

They fall silent and pass.

Under the yellow glow of a single lamp, the street splits.  

One choice a few feet wider, rises to the left, glowering in darkness.  The other, narrower, falls steeply to the right but carries the jostle of male voices tumbling against each other.  

A group of lean young men, dark hair, dark eyes, look up at me as they climb into the pool of light ... and look away, continuing their climb into the darkness.

I've wandered at night into the twisted laneways of this mountain town, splattered on the shoulder of Morocco’s Rif Mountains, losing myself in the twisting maze of blue and white plaster walls punctuated by darkened doorways and shuttered windows.  

My mind begins to conjure images of intrigue; stories of clandestine encounters and secret deals amidst the endless maze of narrow, blue lanes. 

I take comfort in the occasional shop spilling light onto the street, its contents of jumbled necessities watched over by a glowering cloaked figure, before slipping out of sight down another twisting lane.  

It's the silence that tightens around me.  The old city walls and steeply stepped alleys allow no vehicles.  Once dusk settles into darkness, the only sounds are the low murmur of male voices from around the next corner, the steady echo of advancing and retreating footsteps on the dark cobblestones, and my own gasp from the sudden movement of a furtive cat. 

The startling day-time beauty of northern Morocco's Chefchaouen is widely known.  A blue-washed town splayed across the shoulder of a ragged Rif mountain ridge, presided over by a Kasbah watchtower.

But at night, when visitors and residents alike are safely shuttered in their courtyard homes, the narrow alleys are shrouded in enigmatic mystery - and tales of intrigue take root.   

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