Capturing the Blue City: A Photographer's Guide to Chefchaouen, Morocco

If there's one thing my years of skydiving photography taught me, it's that timing is everything—and nowhere is this more true than in Chefchaouen. The city's signature blue walls create a photographer's playground that shifts dramatically throughout the day.

My absolute favorite time to shoot is during the golden hour before sunset (roughly 5-7 PM in spring), when the warm light creates a magical contrast against the cool blues. But here's the insider secret: the actual blue hour (that brief window after sunset) in the Blue City creates a mind-bending monochromatic effect where the walls seem to glow from within. It's like shooting in a dream.

Mornings offer their own magic. I discovered on my second trip that arriving at Plaza Uta el-Hammam just after sunrise (around 6:30-7:00 AM) means you'll have those iconic stairways and alleyways nearly to yourself. The light is softer, more even, and creates fewer harsh shadows than midday shooting.

Mid-afternoon is actually my least favorite time to shoot here—the harsh overhead sun creates difficult contrast and washes out the blue tones. Instead, use this time to scout locations, chat with locals, or edit your morning shots at one of the rooftop cafés. I always bring my portable external SSD to back up files on the go, which has saved me more than once when my memory cards filled up faster than expected.

Let's talk technical for a moment, because capturing Chefchaouen's unique blue palette requires some specific approaches. After three trips and thousands of shots, I've refined my gear and settings to handle the city's unique lighting challenges.

First, the blues of Chefchaouen can trick your camera's white balance. I typically set a custom white balance using a gray card for accuracy, but you can also shoot in RAW (always!) and adjust later. For the richest blues, I slightly underexpose by about 1/3 stop and use my polarizing filter to reduce glare on painted surfaces.

As for lenses, I bring three: a wide-angle zoom (16-35mm) for those narrow alleyways and architectural shots, a nifty-fifty (50mm f/1.8) for street portraits and detail work, and a medium telephoto (70-200mm) for compressing those stunning blue stairways and capturing distant details. If I could only bring one lens? It would be the 35mm prime—versatile enough for most situations while maintaining that storytelling quality I love.

For those shooting on smartphones (which can actually perform brilliantly here), I recommend using ProRAW mode if available and downloading a manual camera app that allows you to control exposure compensation. The native camera apps tend to overexpose the blues, washing them out.

One piece of gear that's been invaluable is my travel tripod. It's compact enough to carry all day but sturdy enough for those blue hour long exposures when the city takes on its most magical quality. Plus, it doubles as a makeshift stabilizer for video work when I'm documenting local craftspeople.

After my first visit to Chefchaouen, I looked at my photos and realized something disappointing: they looked just like everyone else's. The standard shots were beautiful, sure, but they didn't tell my story of the city. On subsequent trips, I've pushed myself to find unique perspectives that go beyond the obvious blue-washed walls.

One approach I love is to incorporate the human element. The contrast between local residents in traditional clothing against the blue backdrops creates compelling visual narratives. Always ask permission first—a smile and gesture toward your camera usually works, or learn the phrase "Mumkin sura?" (May I take a photo?). I often carry small prints from previous trips to give as gifts to people who allow me to photograph them.

Look for unexpected color contrasts too. The occasional red door, yellow flowerpot, or colorful textiles hanging to dry create striking focal points against the blue monotony. These pops of color tell a more complete story of daily life.

Some of my favorite shots have come from looking up—ornate doorways, hanging plants, and the laundry strung between buildings create fascinating geometric compositions. The narrow streets create natural leading lines that draw the eye through your frame.

For something truly different, venture slightly outside the blue medina. The contrast between the blue city center and the more traditional Moroccan architecture just beyond creates fascinating juxtapositions that few tourists capture. A short hike up to the Spanish Mosque at sunset gives you panoramic views of the entire blue cityscape nestled against the Rif Mountains—an absolute must for any photographer.

One of the things that keeps drawing me back to Chefchaouen isn't just the photogenic blue streets—it's the thriving maker culture that exists behind those azure facades. As someone deeply connected to maker communities around the world, I've found that my camera serves as the perfect introduction to local artisans.

On my second trip, I spent an afternoon photographing a weaver named Hassan who creates traditional Moroccan blankets using techniques passed down through generations. Not only did this result in some of my most compelling images of human-centered storytelling, but it led to an invitation to his family home for mint tea and a deeper conversation about how traditional crafts are adapting to modern markets.

The key is to approach these interactions with genuine interest rather than treating locals as photo props. I always carry my portable photo printer which allows me to give immediate prints to artisans I photograph. This simple gesture transforms the dynamic from extraction to exchange and has opened countless doors.

The local leather workshops are particularly fascinating, where craftspeople dye leather goods using traditional methods—the contrast of their colorful products against the blue city backdrop makes for stunning photographs. Similarly, the wool dyers in the eastern part of the medina create vibrant displays as they hang freshly dyed yarns to dry.

Beyond the traditional crafts, I've also connected with a small but growing community of digital creators in Chefchaouen. During my last visit, I met Yousef, a young local photographer documenting his city's changing identity. We swapped techniques and perspectives, and his insider knowledge led me to several hidden spots I'd never have found otherwise. These connections are the true souvenirs I bring home—relationships that transform how I see and photograph a place.

After multiple visits to the Blue City, I've accumulated some hard-won practical knowledge that will save you time, frustration, and help you come away with images you'll treasure forever.

First, let's talk about crowds. Chefchaouen has exploded in popularity thanks to Instagram, and certain spots (like the famous blue staircase with flower pots) can be packed with tourists by mid-morning. My strategy? I use a mapping app to drop pins at locations I discover during daytime scouting, then return during early morning or evening when the light is better and crowds are thinner. The best photos almost always happen before 9AM or after 5PM.

Respect is absolutely critical here. This is a real city where people live and work, not a photo studio. Some residents have grown weary of tourists treating their homes as backdrops. Always ask permission before photographing people, respect signs that indicate no photography, and never block doorways or passages for that 'perfect shot.' A little consideration goes a long way.

Weather considerations matter too. Spring offers the perfect combination of comfortable temperatures and beautiful light. The blue walls appear most vibrant after rainfall when they're slightly damp, creating deeper saturation. If you're lucky enough to visit after a spring shower, drop everything and start shooting!

For those longer photography sessions, I always carry my camera backpack which provides quick access to gear while protecting it from the occasional dust and tight squeezes through narrow passageways. Its side access panels mean I never miss a shot while fumbling with zippers.

Finally, don't forget to put the camera down occasionally. Some of my best discoveries in Chefchaouen have happened when I wasn't looking through a viewfinder but simply wandering, chatting with locals, or sitting in a café watching the light change. These moments of presence often lead to the most meaningful photographs later.