What's the deal with the blue city — why is Chefchaouen painted blue?

I get asked this in Chefchaouen almost daily, usually with the assumption there's one tidy historical answer. There isn't, and I'd be lying if I gave you one. The story you'll hear most from local guides is that Jewish refugees who settled here in the 1930s painted the medina blue, because in Jewish tradition blue (techelet) symbolises the sky and heaven. It's a genuinely held local belief and a lovely story — but the town was founded in 1471 and the blue largely post-dates that community, so treat it as one strand, not gospel.

Then there are the practical theories, and these are real too. Some older residents will tell you the lime-and-blue wash keeps mosquitoes away (blue is said to confuse them) and that the pale colour keeps the thick walls cooler through a Rif-mountain summer. You'll also hear it simply continues an older Andalusian whitewashing habit, with blue added over time. All plausible, none provable. The honest answer is that several things probably compounded over a century.

What I tell people now — and what you should know before you go — is that the blue is also, frankly, maintained for tourism. Chefchaouen discovered that being 'the blue city' put it on every Instagram feed on earth, so households repaint their stretch of wall most springs, often in deeper, more photogenic shades than the originals. That's not a scam; it's a town leaning into the thing that made it famous. It just means the picture-perfect cobalt you see is a living, refreshed colour, not a frozen relic.

How to enjoy it without feeling like you're walking through a film set: go early (before 9am the tour buses from Tangier and Fes haven't arrived and you'll have the lanes to yourself), and remember people live behind these doors. The famous blue staircases and flower-pot corners are private homes; a quick 'salaam' and a smile go a long way, and if a resident has set out pots and props by their door, a small tip for a photo is fair and appreciated. Buy something local while you're there — the wool and goat's cheese are genuinely good — so the town benefits from your visit, not just your camera.