We left El Jadida on Tuesday morning at
a very bright hour for us, away by 9am! We drove south into a
gathering wind with less cloud, until the hot sunshine and blue sky
took over. The wind from the east was strong. The land looks parched
for this time of year and as we approached Imesouane it was apparent
that rain has not fallen this year. What were fields of knee deep
greenery in past years were now only whisps of corn in dry cracked
earth. The rains of Europe have not reached here, in fact the
opposite. Hot and dry.
Returning once more to Imsouane is a
bit like we never left, change happens all the time. When you leave a
place for a long time, change is obvious and can be disturbing. When
only a year has passed, the little differences are noticeable but
pleasing. Life goes on and everywhere wants improvement and
amenities. Imsouane is growing.
We are delighted to find Jean-loup
here, alone and so glad to see us. The wind has been relentless for
the past week and most campers have gone. Strong winds are a
challenge and being alone is too. So his spirits are lifted even
though the winds strength is also. It is howling. Blue sky and very
warm. Very dry! Very Morocco.
We wake today to the sound of silence.
The Bull Bull's are chirping away to break the dream, the wind has
stopped and the sun is shining. On top of that, the surf has dropped
enough for Jean-loup to come hurriedly back from his morning bread
run and chirp 'the bay is working and it's good'.
So I'm “Up'n Atom”, butterflies in
my belly as I haven't surfed since I was here last year. The swell is
large and my arms are weak but I must make the effort
because.....well, I still can!
A good fruit breakfast fills me with
energy and Krysia fills me with confidence. So we walk over to the
Bay and find it as it was 36 years ago, except there's a small town
here now and I'm now 58 and the ocean is definitely stronger than me.
It always was but when you're young, you just don't care or think of
these things. Now, I look for signs of the dreaded current and they
are plainly there. A line of surfers is snaking along the sand to get
back to the harbour, a sure sign of current. Nobody is paddling back
out to the take off spot, it's one wave and walk the long walk back
along the beach. 
I leave Krysia happily drawing on her
ipad and paddle out into the line up, the current is immediately
apparent to these unused ageing arms! I mange to get out ok, only to
see the land moving swiftly in spite of all my efforts. I've been
here before and not caught a wave, getting to the beach dejected. But
my wave came. And what a wave. I stumbled to my feet, shakily feeling
the drop, turned and lined up into a perfect wall that went on and on
and on. A couple of slow cutbacks and more perfect wave. It must be
the longest ride in twenty years. I ended up so far from the port,
the bay sweeps away and I was swept with it. I was elated, a personal
journey for me alone, well I'm sharing it now with you. Literally a
life time has passed since I first surfed here and I'm back to where
I came from. And if this is the only wave I ride for another year, it
will be enough. I was absolutely bushed, buzzing with lost energy. No
strength for any more wave riding. Happily, I join Krysia and
Jean-loup and walk back to the campsite, full of my achievement.
The sun is shining, the company old and
new is delightful and we are back in Morocco.
Wish you were here
Really
Ted n Krysia
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