We ate lunch at a pretty cafe.
And met a traditional musician.
If I don't look very animated, it's because the Barcelona Virus (note the caps) was beginning to take its toll on me. (No, there is no official Barcelona Virus, but that's where Kevin and I caught the miserable colds that were to plague us for over two months.)
The dyes in the marketplace added more intense colors to the Blue City.
We stayed in Chefchaouen for two days, and then it was time to move on to Fes (Fez). Because the bus ride to Fes was a long one, we rented a car and driver for that trip. I wish I could report our driver was friendly, but he really wasn't! He spoke hardly any English, but that usually isn't a deterrent to striking up some sort of rapport. In this case, however, we never managed to connect, which is a little sad.
We left the green valleys of Northern Morocco for agricultural land that resembled Eastern Washington.
Soon, we would enter the fascinating ancient city of Fes.