The blue city of Chefchaouen, nestled in the breathtaking Rif Mountains of Morocco, is a place of wonder and enchantment. But for me, the night I spent there was something entirely different.

As I entered the city, I quickly became lost in the maze of narrow alleyways. Everywhere I turned, the air was filled with the smoke of burning hashish. Curious, I followed my nose and found myself in a large square surrounded by people exhaling the same smoke.

I asked a friendly passerby what was going on and they informed me that I was in the heart of the blue city, known for its marijuana plantations. The smoke I was smelling was hashish, a significant source of income for the city.

I was shocked by this discovery. I never expected to find something like this during my trip to Morocco, a country with such rich cultural traditions. But I was also curious and wanted to learn more about these plantations and how they fit into the lives of the people.

So, I decided to join the stream of people heading towards one of the many hashish bars. I was overwhelmed by the blue colors and music, and felt intoxicated by the smells and atmospheres. The night flew by in a haze of smoke and music, and before I knew it, it was almost morning.

As I woke up the next day, I found myself in a completely different world. I was still in the blue city, but the festive atmosphere was gone. I asked the local residents what they knew about the marijuana plantations and they shared with me the.

As I gazed out at the endless fields of marijuana, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder and curiosity. I had heard that the Rif Mountains were home to some of the world’s finest cannabis, but I had never imagined seeing it in such vast quantities.

I decided to follow the narrow path that wound its way through the fields, marveling at the tall, slender plants that seemed to stretch on forever. The air was filled with the sweet, pungent aroma of the plants, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and respect for the people who tended to them.

As I walked further into the fields, I came across a small group of workers tending to the plants. They greeted me warmly and invited me to join them, explaining that they were part of a cooperative that had been cultivating cannabis in the region for generations.

I spent the next few days learning about the process of growing and harvesting the plants, and was struck by the pride and care with which the workers approached their work. It was clear that this was more than just a crop to them; it was a way of life and a source of livelihood for their families.

But what really surprised me was the deep cultural and spiritual significance of the cannabis plants to the people of the Rif Mountains. I learned that the plants were used in traditional rituals and ceremonies, and were believed to bring clarity and understanding to those who used them.

As I said goodbye to the people of the Rif Mountains and headed back home, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the unexpected journey I had taken and the lessons I had learned. The experience had opened my eyes to the rich cultural history and traditions of Morocco, and had given me a deeper appreciation for the people and their way of life.