Buying Ecstasy Chefchaouen

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Buying Ecstasy Chefchaouen

The Blue City! Chefchaouen was first founded in by Spanish exiles and it is the main town in the province of Chefchaouen. The town is situated in the northwest of Morocco near the Rif Mountains and is inland from Tetouan and Tangier. Chefchaouen is a small fortress town that has become a popular destination for tourists. Visitors come here to explore the town's historical aspects and because it is near to the Spanish border and Tangier. The town is easily recognizable by its unique blue-rinsed buildings and houses. This tradition was started by Chefchaouen's former Jewish population and has been carried on down to this day. After the Spanish Reconquista, which took place in medieval times, hundreds of Jews and Moriscos headed to Chefchaouen with the goal of taking refuge there. In Chefchaouen was taken over by the Spanish and became part of Spanish Morocco. In the Spanish troops and the French army defeated Abd el-Krim and imprisoned him in the Kasbah. Spain ruled over Chefchaouen for thirty years before handing the town back to Morocco. The local residents often refer to the town as Chaouen , because of the shape of the mountains that surround Chefchaouen. It is said that the mountaintops resemble the horns of a goat or 'chaoua', as it is known in Morocco. The literal meaning of Chefchaouen is 'look at the horns'. The town of Chefchaouen is well known for a number of products that are made locally. Many of these hand made crafts are found nowhere else in Morocco. This makes the town a popular shopping destination for Moroccans and tourists alike. People come to buy woven blankets and woolen garments in an assortment of colors as well as exceptional goat cheese. Chefchaouen's land can produce very little agriculturally and is not of very good quality. Due to this, the town has grown a reputation for producing a number of illegal drugs. Chefchaouen is one of the main producers of marijuana, cannabis and Hashish which are used mainly by the local Chaouenis. Despite this, Chefchaouen is a historical town with much to offer to tourists and is well worth a visit. Amazigh Culture Imilchil Festival Guestbook. View Larger Map. Chouf-Chaouen Chefchaouen was first founded in by Spanish exiles and it is the main town in the province of Chefchaouen.

‘Outlaws’: Morocco’s Rif provides refuge for cannabis farmers

Buying Ecstasy Chefchaouen

Intellect ties people in knots and risks nothing, but love dissolves all tangles and risks everything. Take the plunge! But treasures are hidden among ruins. A broken heart hides treasures. I went to Nepal alone, on a stroke of fate. There, I simultaneously fell in love and out-of-love. The experience was so powerful, I wrote a book about it. It was an open-hearted love of the Nepali people, a love of the attitude which allowed them to enjoy the present, despite massive hurdles in their communal past and future. I left my intellect in the high Himalaya. No matter what your destination, just be sure to make every journey a journey within. I have been in Chefchaouen for two months now. Things are tranquil here. People are nice. Day to day, time flows quickly, easily. Here in Chefchaouen, one day flows into another, like a tributary joining a river. The passage of time seems like the most natural, normal thing in the world. It brings with it no stress, no dread; none of the accouterments of Western life. My story of Chefchaouen is not a story of blue walls, of gender, of farmers, or any of the other topics I could conceivably choose to write about in this place. People are always coming to the hostel. Siempre, siempre. The future is an illusion. The world does not move through time as if it were a straight line, proceeding from past to future. Instead time moves through and within us, in endless spirals. Eternity does not mean infinite time, but simply timelessness. If you want to experience eternal illumination, put the past and the future out of your mind and remain within the present moment. You may have heard a different story on this topic: a story of partying and drudgery and stretching your money as long as it can last. Those are true as well. But for me, working in a hostel, these months I spent in the beautiful Moroccan mountains will always be a story of people. Here, were this my journal, I would write the names; the memories. All sorts of people. All sorts of memories. Some things, I think I will remember forever: buying succulents; swarmed by screaming children in an alleyway; bubblegum ice cream; yerba mate; sun-drenched mornings, sitting in the door. Idle time passed at reception with my sister; the sort of unprogrammed time one really needs to savour in a relationship. Many other things, good things, important things, will probably blend into the pastiche of Chaouen. Months passed in a blue blur; a feeling — a sensation. A hazy patch of pleasant memories. Normally, when we travel, it is a list of places: countries, cities, towns. Or maybe for the more culinary-minded, it is a list of foods; repasts shared over wine in fancy restaurants; dingy street stalls; the home-cooked meal of extended hospitality. For the young backpackers coming to Morocco from Europe, it is a story of bars: long nights drinking; early mornings hurting; snatched sex in hostel showers. For me, Morocco has all of these things. But the thing it has most of all is people. My time, two months spent stationary here in Chaoen, has been more a tourism of people, than places. Everyone asks, of course. How does it feel to meet so many interesting people, and let them all go? This essay, I suppose, is my complicated way of answering. When you step into the zone of love, language as we know it becomes obsolete. That which cannot be put into words can be grasped only through silence. I carry a book of memories, which I invite people to write in from time to time. In eight weeks, five people have earned the right to write in my book. Others, I have artifacts of, mentions, glimpses…. They will probably never fill it in. But in my heart, all I can do is be true and honest with myself. There is a door open there. I had this conversation with my sister, the day after a woman I liked very much had, once again, left me behind. The future looms over everyone I meet in Chaoen. Of course it does. Here in Chaoen, the present is always beautiful. Although it has been broken a half-dozen times within the past two months, my heart feels more open than ever before. The quotes were, of course, recommended by someone I met in Chaoen. You can buy the whole book here , if the selections caught your interest. I left Nepal a changed person. Which brings me to Chefchaouen, Morocco. Here, I measure time not in days, but in people. But here in Chaouen, the present is always beautiful. Many good days, spent in sun-bleached bliss. But who can say how time will unfold? How I should feel about that seems to be a hotly debated topic. Why live your life closed off from sensation? But it beats not forming that connection. Beats it handily. This is the lesson I have taken from this place. Like Loading Leave a comment Cancel reply. Comment Reblog Subscribe Subscribed. Sign me up. Already have a WordPress. Log in now. Loading Comments Email Name Website.

Buying Ecstasy Chefchaouen