I’m gliding along on a beautiful right-hand wave, the kind that dreams and rootsy surf movies are made of, with a backdrop of stunning, high sandstone cliffs, when another surfer suddenly appears in front of me. I swerve left to avoid him, but it’s too late; he’s already fallen off his board and into the water. Surf etiquette can be a minefield, especially for solo women showing up somewhere new, so while I think I had priority on the wave, I’m expecting the worst when he approaches me on the beach. But instead, the surfer is all smiles and effervescence, as he says, in a light German accent: “I caught two of the best waves of my life. How was your surf?”
“It’s like that in Imsouane,” Hamid Naciri, the owner of O Lodge, the hotel where I’m staying, will later tell me. “The wave is usually mellow and so the crowd that comes here is often more relaxed and laid-back than in other places too.” This is why Imsouane, or “Magic Bay” as it’s often referred to, which is an hour and a half’s drive north of Agadir, is such a great place for intermediate surfers to progress, he says, unlike other spots along Morocco’s Atlantic coast where the wave type is more suited to performance surfing and the mood in the water more aggressive as a result.
When learning to surf, the first step, riding the whitewater into the shore, is often a breeze; that was certainly my experience. But heading out back beyond the breakers to master proper green waves is an altogether different proposition, requiring not just paddle fitness, strength, and mental fortitude but also the extra practice of getting in the water regularly. Something which can be tricky if you don’t live near a decent surf spot, which is why 20 plus years on, and despite my fair share of surf-related holidays, I’m still firmly in the lower intermediate category – good enough on small waves yet poor in anything bigger. But countless friends back home had recommended Imsouane as the place to help me break out from that plateau and build up my surfing confidence.
Imsouane at sunset
The interiors at O Surf Club
The wave is sheltered by a fishing harbour wall, which usually takes some of the oomph out of the swell hitting the bay, giving less advanced surfers an easier paddle out and more time to get to their feet when catching waves. In the right conditions, the wave can even last for 800m – it’s dubbed “the longest wave in Africa” – making it a popular spot for longboarders, though there is also a great wave for expert surfers at Cathedral Point on the other side of the harbour, and plenty of whitewater for beginners too.
Hamid, who grew up in Casablanca, several hours’ drive north, first visited Imsouane with friends in the late 1990s on weekend surf missions. Back then it was still a small fishing village with few outside visitors beyond the most adventurous surfers and backpackers. He moved here in 2005 and, bar a short stint in France, has lived in Imsouane ever since, opening O Lodge with his wife Theresa Salaberger, who is from Austria, in August 2022.
While the fishermen are still thriving in Imsouane – a stroll to the harbour with its pretty blue and white wooden boats and restaurants is essential – surf tourism has flourished in recent years, especially since the pandemic. A whole labyrinthine ecosystem of hostels, surf rental shops and cafes have sprung up on the shore to cater to visitors who, aside from in high summer which is popular with Moroccans, are mostly from Northern European countries, including France, Germany, Holland, Ireland, and the UK. However, many of these businesses were unauthorised and in January this year, after years of threatening to do so, the Moroccan government controversially demolished much of the village, evicting people who had lived and worked in Imsouane for a generation with less than 48 hours’ notice. The move caused much consternation across the country and among surfers all over the world, though there is hope some of the locals will be able to relocate slightly inland in the future.
For now, O Lodge is one of the few remaining places to stay. Housed in a former lobster nursery with a wonderfully calming aesthetic of neutral hues, straw roofs, and strategically placed cacti, it’s the very definition of a prime location, perched on a cliff with panoramic views of the bay. Aside from being incredibly picturesque, I found its orientation useful for stoking my surf obsession, as I could study how the wave behaved and work out the best times to surf.
Navigating surf etiquette can be a minefield, especially for solo women showing up somewhere new
I could also glimpse Cathedral Point, the expert break, on the other side of the harbour beyond a towering electricity pylon encrusted with red desert dust, and hear both spots rumbling and crashing throughout the night, as if I was in a ship in the middle of a wild and angry sea, which I found thrilling. Along with six bright double rooms and an in-house restaurant, which served tasty semolina flatbreads with almond butter at breakfast and great post-surf smoothies, O Lodge runs daily yoga classes on a rooftop deck, which were perfect for relaxing shoulders stiff with paddle fatigue while gazing at waves.
It has its own surf school called Alaia, with two full-time local instructors, Faical and Ayoub, and daily lessons for beginners and intermediates, backed up by one of the best quivers of rental boards I’ve ever seen, with everything from foamies to hard epoxy progression boards and single fin longboards. I was happy to simply surf as much as I could during my trip – you can borrow boards outside of lesson time – and there isn’t much to do in the village beyond surf and chill, though you can easily take day trips to the Atlas Mountains, the nearby sandboarding spot of Tamri, or the towns of Sidi Kaouki and Essaouira to the north, and Taghazout to the south.
I’m here in winter, but the air temperature only dips below 25 degrees at night, while the water is a balmy 17, enough for the kind of thin, light wetsuit you could only wear in the UK in summer, which makes paddling so much easier and more pleasant. The sun shines throughout my trip – Imsouane averages 300 plus days a year – and there are waves to surf most days, though it can be flat in high summer and extremely hot in the daytime then, too. My cab driver tells me the country recorded its first-ever 50-degree day in Agadir last summer due to the climate crisis, which he found very tough. Due to intense winter storm activity, the waves aren’t actually that mellow during my trip. The surf forecasting apps had been predicting a punchy 8-12 foot swell, which would mean bigger sets the size of two men standing on top of each other, so I hadn’t expected to be surfing at all.
But Faical assures me the bay’s protected nature means we’ll find surfable waves for my level, and we do, helped by a current which takes us from the beach to the perfect take-off spot, as if on a travelator. The waves still seem big and scary, but Faical is a calm and reassuring presence. The surf school’s ethos centres on getting to know guests and understanding their fears as much as their goals. He encourages me to relax and breathe, to remember that it’s only water, and crucially that these waves are less powerful than they look. From catching the first wave I can see that he’s right. I’m still on the cusp of my comfort zone but with his tips on positioning and when to paddle hard I catch some lovely waves and thoroughly enjoy the session.
Another day, a group of French women from Marseille join the intermediate lesson. I’ve come here as a solo traveller, but meeting people is easy in the shared spaces at the hotel and at mealtimes. One of their number is Karine Grech, a jewellery designer, who tells me she’s on her third trip here and has another one planned later in the year.
Why does she keep coming back? “I love the ambience, the fishermen in the village, and the fact there’s no fashion scene – people wear what they want. The surf tourism here isn’t as developed as it is in, say, Bali or Portugal, or nearby Taghazout.” But mostly, she is drawn to the waves. “The bay offers exceptional conditions for progression compared to other places.”
During our session, this time with Ayoub as our teacher, we will do exactly that. The conditions are even bigger than my first lesson, with waves pulsing out across the bay like gnarly sonar, but we ride the current out and manage to catch some waves. On one, which keeps building beneath me as I’m riding it, full of bumps from the wind, I felt like I was surfing my own version of Nazaré, the infamous big wave spot in Portugal.
The sun shines throughout my trip – Imsouane averages 300 plus days a year – and there are waves to surf most days
On another, I paddle too late, stall and get dragged too far wide to catch anything, forcing me to battle my way to shore and walk all the way around the beach to the entry point again. I’m frustrated with myself, but Ayoub insists: “There are no bad waves, as we learn and progress from each of them.”
Through the spray and din, the French women and I are constantly checking in with each other, laughing at the ridiculous size of some of the waves we’re facing. The words “machine a laver” (washing machine) come up a lot to describe our wipeouts.
After the session, Ayoub gathers us all on the beach and tells us how proud he is of us for handling the conditions that day and reminds us we have every right to be in the line up. A validation which means a lot in a sport where self-doubt and feeling like you don’t belong are all too frequent emotions.
When sections of Imsouane were destroyed, some surfers in the international community wondered if they should stop visiting the village, but there are many local businesses, such as O Lodge and the Alaia surf school, still standing and keener than ever for surfers to visit. “Friendly people will always be welcome in Imsouane,” says Hamid, which feels providential, because I’m already wondering when I can come back.
Double rooms at O Lodge start from £82 per night including breakfast, with dinner from £11, and surf lessons from £23 including equipment; osurfclub.com
