Welcome to Taghazout, Souss-Massa, Morocco.

The energy of the North Atlantic fuels every corner of this village, filling the tagines with fish, and the surfers with smiles.

At heart, it remains a fishing village, with generations of locals expertly catching and cooking the fruits of the sea. Yet, commercial overfishing and a spreading, contagious addiction to Morocco’s peeling right-hand point break waves have shifted the focus of new generations towards surf retreat ecotourism.

And you can understand why the crowds come…

Morocco is steeped in a blend of cultures with an array of traditions, flavours, and daringly poured mint tea. Mix this with Taghazout’s yearlong sunshine and stone’s throw distance away from some world-class right-hand breaks and you’ve got one tempting surf trip.

Our local lost boy Will headed back to Africa, to dive into the Moroccan culture and hit up some famous surf spots that have been plastered across his surf magazines while growing up: 

-1-degree, English shivers followed by 4 hours in a winged metal death box, and boom… we arrive at Agadir Airport. After a painful leg stretch to shake off the Ryanair legroom cramp, I shuffle along the walkway till I reach the doors, where I’m smacked in the face with the soaring Agadir heat. By the time we reached the airport, every passenger was dripping, and as red as Moroccan Terracotta.  A Brit abroad really is a sight for sore eyes.

Moroccan legend and twin fin connoisseur Reda Benhima our local guide, host, and Founder of Sunshine Surf Morocco greeted us from the airport with a warm smile and a glint in his eyes that hinted at the waves to come! That surfer’s glint seemed to be contagious and spread around the entire group like wildfire, and for good reason. The waves were rolling into the Moroccan breaks lighting up Anchor Point, Devils Rock, Imsouane, and Tamri.  We were spoilt for choice and with the local guides if there was a wave, Reda and the team would sniff it out.

The Awakening of the Devout, Yogi and Salt Addict – Anchor Point 

We woke at sunrise, awakened by the call to prayer resonating through the local town, the devout emerged, under the first light of the sun. The morning had begun, and we decided to shake off the effect of the Ryanair seat room that ached our bones with a rooftop yoga session.

The hypnotic call to prayer and slow morning stretches quietened our minds and loosened our limbs. Complete relaxation was made tricky by the low murmur of the tide, offering a teaser for the surf trip to come, excitement was building and so was the swell. With the van loaded up and on the way, we got our first glimpse of the famous break, 3-4ft offshore, peeling right-handers one after another. I have never put a wetsuit on so fast in my life, running down to the rocks and somehow without slipping, I jumped into the water.

Although it was only 9:00 am the line-up was full, lined with locals who effortlessly carved through the water. I didn’t mind waiting my turn, I was in my element watching true masters at work in a surf spot I’ve dreamt of since being a boy. After a long wait, I caught my first wave of the trip, although only 3ft or so, you could feel the power of the Atlantic driving my board down the face of the wave, looking along at the next section I couldn’t help but crack a smile at the never-ending wave that rolled down the coast.

Eventually, my legs failed me, and I was in the salty soup. The first paddle up the point seemed effortless in my complete state of euphoria, but by the last, my paddle muscles were burning. Top Tip, before you reach Morocco put the work in for paddle training or face looking like a dead fish amongst dolphins. The day was perfect, the endless lines felt like a surfers version of a mirage in the desert. As we sat watching the light fade we regathered our strength, for another day of point breaks in paradise.

Idyllic Imsouane and Saharan Sandboarding 

If Anchor Point, Killers, and Mysteries are the Moroccan cover girl of surf magazines then Imsouane is the forgotten feature, but for me, this bay is pure paradise. We arrived early at Ohappybay, a restaurant serving up traditional Moroccan breakfasts with a dreamlike view of the ocean. With Mangobay cocktails down the hatch, we suited up and lost all sense of time for the next 4 hours gliding over waves that endlessly rolled through the bay.

While our brains were wired by the mirage of swell lines rolling in, that we grew up mind-surfing relentlessly, our bodies eventually began to give up on us. The point break paddle out is not something British waves prepare you for. So, with the cold-water buzz pumping through our souls, we decided to dry off and dive into Moroccan Culture.

We kicked off the adventure, by swapping the surf for the sand in the Western Sahara. The serene shift in landscape from the dunes down to the ocean was suddenly broken by Reda sending it down the slope spitting out sand and setting the bar high. My toxic trait is thinking that after years of skateboarding and surfing, I’d smash it. After an hour the only thing smashed was my body, but it’s an experience I will never forget!

Agadir Market and the Hunt for the Green Flash

The next day we set off early for the Agadir Market. This market was a sensory overload, the chaotic flurry of locals and flocks of tourists shuffle through market stools, the sound of heated bartering, promotional cries, and sizzling tagines fill the covered market, and the smells are unforgettable. When I say unforgettable, I mean both the beautiful aroma of spices piled high on the stalls and the intense smell of leather being tanned in the 30-degree sun, so sniff with caution.

For lunch we used a trade traveler secret, let the locals lead. We ditched the crowds and found a queue of locals heading up a stairwell, once we reached the top the view opened up to the rooftops of Agadir. We found our table and pointed wildly at the menu. Lamb Tagine with mint tea for 30 Dirham works out at just over £2.40. The saying ‘you pay for what you get’ did not apply here, it was simply delicious.

Full up we explored the rest of the market, considered buying a chameleon, decided against it, and began heading home. On the way, Reda told us to look out for the green flash, a spectacle where the sun illuminates off the ocean’s surface just before it slips from view.

The evening was spent laughing with new-found friends which only paused when the hunt for the green flash began. Sure enough, just before the sun sunk into the sea a tiny green illumination filled the sky, a sight the whole team started cheering too.

Morocco is a land of geographic contrast, from the white-topped Atlas Mountains to where the Sahara Desert meets the rolling Atlantic, the geography can’t make its mind up, and the result is a country of immeasurable beauty. Whether you are a surfer frothing at its wave, a foodie drooling at the cuisine, or a traveller seeking a truly astounding culture, Morocco is a destination you must have on your bucket list.

Right then, if you’ve seriously got this far in the article and haven’t clicked off to book your trip with Sunshine Surf, what are you doing?  Scour the surf reports, find some flights on the cheap, and click the damn thing, start your adventure!