Maroc’n’Roll

I’m now in my final year of university, and despite all the hard work I’ve been doing so far (not too far from the truth actually), I’ve managed to squeeze in a trip to Morocco which I returned from on Saturday evening. I’ve never been to Morocco before – and I wouldn’t usually swan out of the country one blustery Tuesday in November – but I have a friend currently living there, surfing and just generally enjoying life, so we put a visit in our diaries.

Not a bad view, eh?

Not a bad view, eh?

He is staying in a skinny beachside house, in an adorable and colourful fishing village called Tagahazout, which is about 20km from Agadir, where the nearest airport is. My days there were filled with sun, surf and snacks, whilst my nights were full of open-air yoga, sea-staring and early nights – have you ever surfed before? It reallllly takes it out of you. To start with, after a bumpy experience in a scuba-diving attempt and my inevitable sea-sickness, the ocean and I are not on the best of terms anyway. The biggest step for me probably came before I even got on a surfboard; just getting out there, facing the waves and the awesome power of the water. By my third day on the board however, I was managing to awkwardly crouch-surf the waves…It’s exhausting, but the rush when you catch a wave is addictive and It’s definitely something I’ll be pursuing in the future.

A hard-earned camel bone wall piece, complete with secret mirror. Plus, a sneaky view of the crazy colourful rug I snapped up.

A hard-earned camel bone wall piece, complete with secret mirror. Plus, a sneaky view of the crazy colourful rug I snapped up.

We visited the local market in Taghazout, where we bartered like natives and as a result I loaded up my little hand luggage suitcase with quirky goodies. I could have snapped up everything in that eclectic and colourful market, every item had such a personality about it! It would be a decorating dream to take a trip to the Moroccan markets with a couple of very large and very empty suitcases…

The food was delicious, and with fresh fish from authentic Moroccan fisherman on offer every morning, I ate like a king but paid like a pauper. Quite a difference from my dismal weekly supermarket basket.

I had a wonderful few days climbing valleys, surfing and eating, and though it was a shock to the system when the plane touched back down at Manchester Airport, I feel throughly rested and ready to attack my Greek Tragedy essay this week. Well, a little optimism never hurts, though it is a bit futile when it comes to tragedy #ClassicsBanter

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