World's grassiest town

After the crowds and confusion of Tangier, we were in need of somewhere quiet to hang for a while and Chefchaouen ended up being a great spot for exactly that. Nestled in the mountains and with houses and lanes coated in a cool blue wash, it was as soothing as Tangier was hectic. Locals proudly claim it as the cannibis capital of the world, though we became a little sick of the offers around every corner. And it did seem like the relaxed work ethic of the locals may have been related to the town habit...

Our hotel had a great rooftop terrace and we spent many hours sipping on the Moroccan specialty, mint tea, taking in the dusty outlook of the Rif mountains.

An oasis amongst the crumbling mountains - Chefchaouen

No hard decisions to be made when chosing the colour scheme of your house

Locals kids get stuck into some washing by the river

The zig-zagging pathways in Chefchaouens quiet medina

Mel on the steps of our hotel, getting into the blue theme

Downtown Chefchaouen

This suspect product was sold to us as toothpaste. Well, it did say 'Colgate' on the label but when was the last time you saw toothpaste a in metal tube?

A good place to hide

Our first steps on African soil plunged us into the bustling port of Tangier, a city once legendary for its debauchery in the days when it was an international zone. Now very much Moroccan (though still a haven for international spies, supposedly!) we may have only traveled 14km from Spain but we were definitely in a new world.

Throwing ourselves in at the deep end, we stayed at a 'rustic' hotel in the centre of the chaotic medina, just a few hundred metres from the port and consequently home to some dubious other patrons. The staff were friendly, though, and we were particularly taken by the phone system, complete with old-style switchboard requiring an operator to plug in the phone line each time a call was taken.

Leafy hills and pretty coastal views belie the chaos within!

This mosque, next to our hotel, woke us at 3am each morning with an eery, screamed call to prayer right outside our window

Mel negotiating the maze that is Tangier

We felt that things hadn't changed in our hotel for a long, long time!

It's easy to get lost in there

Between Europe and Africa

From Portugal, we ducked back into Spain to visit Seville and continued south to the windsurfer's hangout of Tarifa, from where we planned to catch a ferry across to Morocco. There is just 14km of water separating Spain and Morocco here, so we could clearly see across to Africa when the weather was good.

We arrived in Seville on the weekend, and it's Sunday that is bullfighting day in Spain. I had originally been keen to see a fight, though Mel said she wouldn't be joining me. The weekend before, though, we watched an afternoon of bullfighting on the TV - which incorporates a staggering bull having a sword plunged into its spine, causing it to collapse, before a dagger is driven into the back of its skull (nice family viewing at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon!). After this, I felt less inspired to see it all first hand...we decided to skip that Spanish cultural experience.

The bullfighting ring in Seville

- as close as we decided to get to a fight

Postcards from Andalusia

Detail of an arch at Seville's cathedral

Sand swept paths bear testament to Tarifa's strong winds...

...as do the windfarms on every hill!

Mel in a quiet Spanish courtyard

Europe on this side, Africa on the other - Morocco's coast is visible across the Straits of Gibraltar

The Algarve

Next stop was Portugal's southern holiday coast, aka The Algarve. Although pretty heavily touristed, there were many places to find a bit of peace, quiet, relaxation and...Indian food! The influence of the old Indian/Portuguese spice trade was very evident around here with a proliferation of subcontinental restaurants, no doubt in part because of the sizable presence of English retirees (the Poms love a good curry). The Goan dish vindaloo is actually a part Portuguese, part Indian creation so of course that was top of the list to try!

A gringo taste testing vindaloo

The rocky coast off Lagos

A line of holiday homes on an island off Faro

Portuguese rice cake

This tiny bar near our place was frequently packed of an afternoon

Drying the washing is an easy task in this sunny part of the world

Lisbon

We continued south through Portugal, landing at the capital, Lisbon. With hilly cobbled streets radiating a rustic, sometimes grimy charm, and a multicultural atmosphere, this was one of our favourite European cities so far in our travels.

There are some steep streets but the views to the ocean are magnificent

The view from our window in the interestingly named 'Brazil Africa Guesthouse', run by a couple of very friendly but incomprehensible old Portuguese ladies



A waiter grabs a quick smoke before the evening rush

Old trams trundle through the streets of Lisbon

Neighbourhood art

Portuguese explorers gazing off to distant lands

View from the top of the statue in the above picture!

Mel strolling through some psychedelic paving

The interior of the Jeronimos Monastery

Shoppers in Lisbon's famous Ribeira food market

Plenty of statues 'round these parts