So we set off in March and were eyed critically at the airport with our unusual luggage. A surf bag in addition to the heavy ski bag? Admittedly, this took us some getting used to ourselves. But the ground staff were all the more interested and cooperative! Where normally every gram of extra baggage incurs extra charges, minor weight overruns were suddenly no longer a problem at all. Every hurdle was overcome with a smile on our faces as soon as we told them about our plan. The first steps out of the air-conditioned halls of Marrakech airport on African soil in the mild spring climate were like a balm. The cold, wet weather and the gray color unit in Munich are less than four hours behind us and now the sun lays its warming rays on our uncovered arms. You can't help but think of a summer vacation. The next moment, the heavy weight of the ski bag in your right hand catches your eye and reminds you of the real reason for the trip. We still want to climb the highest mountain in North Africa on skis, but for now we're going to the coast, as good waves have been on the forecast. The frozen water in the high regions of the Atlas won't run away so quickly.
First liquid, then frozen
With the snow-covered mountains in view and a (slightly arrogant) grin on our faces, we march towards the car rental station. And the first exotic sensory impressions reach us through our noses and eyes. And make it unmistakably clear to us: we are in Africa! Even at the airport, the scents of the blossoming lemon and orange trees are enchanting. Only Africa smells like this. And the special blue of the sky is downright dazzling. Only Africa looks like this. A dry spring has been blessed with unusually heavy rainfall over the past two weeks. From our seats in the cramped rental car, we can see the snow-covered peaks of the Atlas Mountains on the horizon. And we are already beginning to dream of African powder snow. But would we rather go to the mountains first and then to the coast?
We make our way to Essaouira, which lies just west of Marrakech on the coast and can be reached in a leisurely three-hour drive. We are too late for an afternoon surf session anyway and want to celebrate our arrival in Morocco with a traditional tajine and the obligatory mint tea within the ancient walls of the port city. The name is derived from the Arabic as-Sawirah and means 'the perfected one'. As we walk through the narrow streets of the old town center and look back from the harbor, this also comes to mind. The town wall nestles perfectly on the cliffs of the small headland. By the time we've had our first fresh, sugared mint tea, we've forgotten all about the hectic, chilly German airport halls and are looking forward to our first surf in Sidi Kaouki the next morning. Sidi Kaouki is just under 30 kilometers south of Essaouira and has become famous as a windsurfing spot - because of the wind, of course. This still keeps many surfers away, as the wind has to blow offshore to have a positive effect on the waves. Which, of course, it doesn't always do. However, there is always less wind or it blows in the right direction and a few really good spots in the surrounding area have made Sidi Kaouki famous among surfers. We enjoy the solitude at the spots for a few days - especially because we know that the well-known waves of Imsouane and Taghazout are completely different.
Infinite coastline - endless surf spots
Less than 100 kilometers further south lies the small harbour town - actually more of a village than a city - Imsouane. There are probably only a few spots in the world where the last quarter of an hour of the journey must be completed with such anticipation in the surfer's heart. Directly above the bay, at an altitude of almost 300 m, there is a viewpoint next to the road from where you can see the waves breaking from the harbor wall to the beach. That is, if it works, as a considerable wave height is forecast. In order for the waves to break in the bay, they have to be turned by approx. 45° (the main swell direction is NW) and thus lose a lot of energy. In order for there to be enough power left, there must therefore have been an enormous amount beforehand.
Fifteen years ago, you hardly met any locals here during the wavey months (fall, winter, spring) and it was difficult to find accommodation at all. Nowadays, with modern information options and flexible working hours, whole hordes of surfers from France, Spain, England and Germany arrive as soon as the right wave height and direction is forecast. As this is the longest (easily accessible) right-hand wave in Morocco, it's no wonder. On good days, you can expect to surf 700 m long stretches here and have to plan 15-20 minutes for the stretch along the beach back to the harbor wall! We managed a maximum of 12 wave rides in one day - then we had cramps in our calves.
A good 70 kilometers further south is the actual surfing center of Morocco: Taghazout. On the way there you pass a few other interesting surf spots (Tamri, Boiler's, etc.), but this is where the surfing life is centered due to the variety of different spots in the immediate vicinity. And of course because of its proximity to Agadir International Airport (20 km). Anchor Point is probably Morocco's best-known wave: easy to reach, easy to surf, a little tricky to paddle out, but with the old ruins right on the rocks, it is simply perfect for the public. In the evening, half the village gathers here to watch the sunset and the last motivated surfers until the last light of the day has disappeared behind the horizon.
Taghazout - the Moroccan surfing center
We set up in a small vacation home right on Anker Point and watch the surfers whizz past us from our terrace. The next morning, all we have to do is lift our heads from our pillows to check out the waves through the window. Lift your head, crawl out of bed into your wetsuit, eat some water and a banana and walk to the water at dawn, enjoy a hearty breakfast in the late morning and pass the time until the evening session. That's how the next few days go and that's all we want. Well, the evening barbecue or tajine dinner with fresh fish, which we are offered directly on the terrace, and a cool beer under a magnificent starry sky are perhaps also worth mentioning. But nothing more really... So we sit there on our last evening on the coast and curse the wave forecast, which unfortunately no longer predicts any waves. So it's off to the mountains for us' and suddenly nobody is really motivated anymore. Too much summer is behind us, too much warmth and comfort. Who actually had the idea of going to the coast first and then to the mountains? Well, you're always smarter afterwards, but we enjoy the last morning session all the more and it's almost too late for the trip to the High Atlas.
Click through all the pictures of the surf trip
The change from liquid to frozen causes 'freezing'
The drive of several hours to Imlil and on to the mountain village of Around flies by. Despite the tiredness, everyone's eyes are wide open at the impressive views. We drive past white blossoming orchards and through narrow gorges on roads that are far too narrow. Then it gets dark and we are glad that we don't know how steeply the slope next to the road drops into the valley. We don't reach our accommodation in Around, the "Gite d'etape", until late in the evening. But just in time to indulge our taste buds once again with a lamb tagine.
The next morning, we wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and mint tea. The view out of the window makes us feel positive and we are motivated to tackle the first stage (almost 1400 vertical meters) up to Refuge Azib Tamsoult at 3210 m. In Moroccan expedition style, the ski luggage is loaded onto mules and we can enjoy the march through the wide Mizane valley in the first rays of sunshine of the day with light luggage. We soon start to climb and after less than an hour we understand why we were advised not to carry so much food and drink. The first "refreshment station" - a small wooden shed - is waiting with small snacks and freshly squeezed orange juice. It wasn't to be the last orange juice over the next few days.
We make rapid progress and above the Sidi Chammharouch monastery with its white-painted rock, which nobody can say exactly why it is painted white in the first place, we see our porters far down in the valley. After two more orange juice press stops, the first snowfields come into view. The mules have now caught up with us. But shortly afterwards, when our accommodation is already in sight, it becomes too dangerous for the mules and we have to carry our ski luggage ourselves.
In the footsteps of James Bond
We quickly settle into the hut and start a ski tour through the famous James Bond couloir towards the Afella summit to acclimatize. The weather gets worse and worse as the day progresses and we are a little surprised that we are so cold in Africa despite wearing decent mountain clothing. Near the summit, the wind is whistling around our ears and we decide to head back to the hut quickly. It was already clear on the way up: on the icy frozen snow, we shouldn't expect any special turns on the descent. Unfortunately, the distant view from Marrakech was deceptive. Somewhat disillusioned, we crawled into bed after dinner and hoped that the weather would improve overnight.
It snowed a little overnight and the sky is starry! Everything is covered with a touch of fresh snow. We can hardly wait to have breakfast and storm to the summit of Toubkal. With the first light, we finally set off and, in smaller groups, get the steepest parts behind us. There is less snow than in previous years, but enough to ski down to the hut. We make good progress and only the constant wind gets on our nerves. The view becomes more impressive with every meter of altitude. At the summit at 4167 m, the highest point in North Africa, no one can stand it for long with wind gusts of 90 km/h, even though the view is unique. To the south, the foothills of Djebel Sarhro lie before the Sahara. A few green oases stand out against the brown mountains. To the southwest, the Anti-Atlas falls into the Atlantic. From the north, gloomy clouds press over the Middle Atlas. The clouds make it unmistakably clear to us that we had better take advantage of the weather window to get down to the valley. The descent to the hut is not really one of the best of the winter, but no one has had such a delicious Moroccan hut snack all winter. Who even allowed themselves to dream of African powder snow? Snow is just frozen water!
