{"id":89,"date":"2017-05-26T09:35:19","date_gmt":"2017-05-26T09:35:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/?p=89"},"modified":"2017-05-26T10:44:57","modified_gmt":"2017-05-26T10:44:57","slug":"surfing-morocco","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/surfing-morocco\/","title":{"rendered":"Surfing Morocco"},"content":{"rendered":"

It is February and spring is\u00a0only a month away, but in England, we still live in a mostly grey, gloomy and wet snail paradise<\/em>. Every winter, when the boozy indulgence of X-mas and new year fade away, I start questioning my lifestyle and look for a reason why I feel so depressed and miserable. It is when the Laphroaig is not helping anymore that I open the Facebook and text Roberta in Tamraght. Roberta’s first sentence is ‘when are you coming to Morocco?<\/em>‘\"\"<\/em>
\nIn a matter of seconds, I saw myself surfing, eating cous cous and filling my memory cards with travel photography and street shots. At this point, everything else just became as irrelevant as the Pokemon hunt. After few minutes of daydream-making reality, I take action and answer ‘Robi I am buying a ticket for\u00a0the end of Feb’.<\/em>On the other side, Roberta answers me ‘Great! as we are just finishing the to redecorate the surf &\u00a0dance house and we need some interior photography done’. <\/em>I give up to the will of the universe conspiring against the grey and gloomy days in London. I buy the tickets, I communicate Airbnb that I am available to do some interior photography work in Agadir and Essaouira, sit down and start dreaming the sun.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Upon arrival in Tamraght, my promise of an\u00a0alcohol-free week is promptly broken by a\u00a0glass of wine celebrating some friends going back to France. Weather, place and people deeply affect my emphatic personality, and that’s why it always takes me a day or two to adjust to a new location. Falling asleep and waking up next to the Ocean is always a fantastic experience.\u00a0The first time I parked my campervan for a stormy overnight stay in Biarritz changed my life. The roaring humming sound of exploding bubbles created by violently exploding masses of water against\u00a0the firm rock makes your wild soul sing.<\/p>\n

\"\"On the first day, I wake up with the same distant sound of breaking waves that accompanied my night dreams. Fortunately today the waves are not great; because I have some work to do. I am doing some interior photography for holiday let agency Airbnb. The jobs are a few miles north from Tamragh; on the road to Essaouira. Time is running slower here and as soon as I am well breakfasted and coffeed, I leisurely make the ride along the small stretch of roadworks that leading to Taghazout, where the sleepy Moroccan\u00a0street traders are setting up their stalls with Tuareg\u00a0jewellery, Moroccan teapots and beautifully coloured rugs. On the other side of the road, I\u00a0salute the line of old Transits mkII waiting for\u00a0surfers to take to today’s best spot.<\/p>\n

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\"\"Passed the last headland, the road becomes desert. The mind becomes quiet and life becomes the most beautiful adventure. From the first time, every other road trip, as soon as I am on a countryside ride to an unknown destination, I always feel the same way: My mind slowly\u00a0drops any other though which does not belong to the journey, it quiets down its chattering and it’s starting to be fully present and aware of the very instant I am living. I am nowhere else than where I am now, I do not think but I feel. An immense sense of wonder, joy, positiveness and freedom. Everything in my past, present and future is perfect: no anxiety, no worries and I really feel alive.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>After I go trough my busy work schedule for the day, it’s time to go back to base where Roberta and Alberto are preparing a great dinner. Before heading back, I enter the dirty road to Anchor point where I join the\u00a0line of young video aficionados, surfers, ocean gazers, passionate photographers, wandering dogs and proud parents watching over their young wild human cubs charging today’s majestic 7fters across the falling tide of this famous spot. In just about an hour, I\u00a0manage to get my shoes and trousers wet by a bigger than usual wave, while casually chatting about my newly acquainted French amateur photographer’s medium format film relic he’s using to snap away the waves. I also manage to take few hundred shots that made my longing for the wave grow \"\"<\/a>exponentially.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>The fish catch of the day, crab, cuscus, tagine and more local fresh delicacy comes to Roby’s dinner every\u00a0day. And you really make the most of it after a full day surf class or practising your postural stretching in the morning and yoga, dance classes in the afternoon or my favourite workshop; the Mandala Yoga. If you book one of their great\u00a0belly dance or yoga classes, they will offer you the airport transfer and a\u00a0free class to a\u00a0local less wealthy resident. Roberta is very conscious of the role of responsibility she has in the local community. I can not wait for the winter to come and give me the excuse to go back.
\nRoberta and Abdullah\u00a0Alberto Ait Baadi are waiting for you at Wave & Dance<\/a>\u00a0in Tamragh, one hour drive from Agadir Al Massira Airport in south Morocco. wave-dance.com<\/a> – \u00a0tel. & whatsapp: +212 627 81 22 68 \u00a0– \u00a0\u00a0info@wave-dance.com<\/a><\/p>\n

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It is February and spring is\u00a0only a month away, but in England, we still live in a mostly grey, gloomy and wet snail paradise. Every winter, when the boozy indulgence of X-mas and new year fade away, I start questioning my lifestyle and look for a reason why I feel so depressed and miserable. It […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":161,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[136,59,17,126,58],"tags":[153,152,151,122,113,20,124,117,111,21,115,123,112,114,119,118,120,116,121],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/89"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=89"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/89\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":157,"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/89\/revisions\/157"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/161"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=89"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=89"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alessioparatore.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=89"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}