We stopped off at Salamanca to check out some of the ancient architecture. It was here we realised that the camper was definitely not ok. The dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree. A quick search had us heading towards Seville to find a garage and some respite.
Tangier, north of Morocco; The swell looked much bigger the further south we looked. So we headed for Rabbat until neither of us could drive anymore. We parked at the first garage and jumped into bed preparing for an early start.
We checked out a couple of the souks and picked up some trinkets. It wasn’t until we got past Casablanca that the surf started to really pick up.
Even though it was starting to improve, both Dan and myself where holding out for that one perfect point break to park up and settle. We ventured on south to El Jadida.
It was dusk as we arrived into El Jadida so we pulled up overlooking the point. It was worth the extra drive. We cooked some chorizo bean stew and opened a few cold ones.
We woke up early and sipped coffee overlooking the break. We cooked some egg, mushroom, avocado and goats cheese hash. We had picked up some traditional Moroccan flatbreads the night before. The went together nicely with the rest of brekkie.
The next day early doors, we dutifully headed to the nearby garage to get the van fixed up. The day was nearly gone but the van was finally tip-top. We jumped in, wasting no time heading for surfing Mecca, Safi: the jewel in the crown of Moroccan surfing.
We pulled up to a small cliff overlooking a right hand screaming point break. After paying one of the locals a “parking fee” or as the paramilitaries in Ireland call it “safety money”. The wave was big, clean and expected to get bigger over night.
We had found a sweet spot and everything was looking rosy. We spent 5 or 6 days here, I lost count in the end. We had sunshine, waves and endless delicious local foods. Everything was right in these moments and we felt at home.
We bumped into a couple of guys that worked at Wave & Chill (a cool little shack on Safi beach). We drove round after a surf to hang out, reflect on the day and grab a 10/10 tagine with more mint tea.
Soon enough, we had as much delicious food, drink and surf as we deserved. We spent our last day in Africa basking in the sun and surfing in boardies. The last remnants of respite from neoprene and icy Atlantic water.
We watched rich hues of fuchsia, saffron and vermillion fall behind the horizon. We broke out our collection of wine, beer and rum and invited our new found moroccan friends to one last fling.
Our 3,400 mile journey was drawing to a close. Dan prepared to head north and drive back to Cornwall and I headed south, into the night. In the months to come we would reflect on our time as sea gypsies. But for now, I was Agadir bound in a van full of buoyant Safi locals; hooting and hollering all the way home.”