Surf's Up!

We arrived in Agadir after a several-hour bus ride, only to find ourselves at the bus station which seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.  Having already dealt with the overbearing “Pick me! Pick me!” taxi drivers in Marrakech, we decided that we didn’t want to deal with them and that based on the maps that Kyle had printed out, it wasn’t that far to our hostel anyway.  Famous last words.  The sidewalk alternated between somewhat reasonable, pretty shoddy, and altogether nonexistent, which didn’t get along so well with Jess’s roller suitcase.  I have no idea what the temperature was, but it must have been somewhere in the range of 90 degrees Fahrenheit (32 degrees Celsius) and the sun just beat down on us, taunting us and daring us to continue.  In reality, the walk was probably only forty-five minutes or so, but it felt like a good hour or more :)  Luckily we didn’t have any problems locating the hotel!  We checked in and checked out our room, which had been advertised as ‘apartment-style.’  Turns out that meant that there was a “kitchen” (a sink, a microwave, a single plug-in hotplate, and some cookware) in addition to the three twin beds and small balcony.  We considered cooking, but the food was so inexpensive that we figured it was a better idea just to eat out for all our meals (except breakfast, which was included).  

Our big Agadir adventure took place just north of Agadir, in Taghazout.  Kyle had found a company and booked us a full day of surfing lessons!  Our surf instructor, Tarik (Tariq?), was a Moroccan version of Bob Marley and spoke fluent Arabic, Egyptian Arabic, French, English, Norwegian, Swedish, and in all likelihood another couple of languages that I may or may not have even heard of.  He sent us for a quick jog down the sandy beach to warm up and then led us through a full set of calisthenics to make sure we were prepared before we started lessons.  We pulled on (and when I say pulled on, I mean literally tugged) our wetsuits and got started, armed with our surfboards and our positive attitudes.  The lessons were all on land, and involved making me (I can’t speak for the others) feel very silly balancing on my stomach on the board and pretending to paddle.  He showed us how we needed to paddle until we were caught up in the wave, then arch our backs and push up with our hands. 


At this point, we strapped the line to our ankle (allowing us to stay attached to the board in the very unlikely *cough cough* chance that we might fall off or otherwise lose hold) and headed out to sea to give it a go.  First thing I figured out… That surfboard is HEAVY!  I had this Baywatch image of just jogging into the water, effortlessly carrying my board under one arm, but in reality, with both arms gripping the board, inching my way out, I looked like a child trying to pull along the family dog, who really doesn’t want to go for a walk.  Anyway, after trudging my way out and getting to the point where I was meeting up with some waves, I was able to successfully paddle and ride the wave in, proudly surveying the scene from my “I’m-a-mermaid-

Not me... but you get the idea

in-front-of-a-boat” position.  I headed back in for further instruction, where Tarik taught me to go from this ‘pushing up’ position to swinging my legs through and getting into a crouched standing position.  Let me tell you that this feels very silly on land, where I was hopping from one position to the next thinking, “I’m terrible at this.  Now you expect me to do this in the water, balancing on an unstable slab?!”

But… I was there to try to surf, and gosh darn it, I was going to do my best!  He told me that it was best to just try to get the hang of it and that he didn’t expect me to succeed right away.  So I tried.  And tried again.  And tried again.  Over and over, I tried to do what I had been told, with Tarik whistling every now and then from up on the cliff to tell me to go back to the left, away from the rocky area with “harder” waves.  I was getting more and more tired and even getting out to where I could think about catching a wave was almost impossible, because as I got to a point where the water came up to my waist or higher, the surfboard that I was carrying/dragging along would get sucked into the wave, pulling me backward and impeding my forward progress.  And when I tried to get up on the board, I absolutely bit the dust every. single. time.  I think I must have swallowed two gallons of saltwater, with an additional gallon going up my nose- not exactly a pleasant feeling!  After crashing, several of the waves pulled me down and scraped me across the rocks… if I hadn’t been wearing a wetsuit, I’m sure I would have been cut up and bleeding.  The once- perfect polish on my toes was completely rubbed off and it looked like I had repeatedly stubbed my toes against every possible piece of furniture you could imagine.  The only thing keeping me going was the fact that I'm stubborn as a mule and was determined to succeed... even if success meant getting up just once.  Tarik eventually called me back in to shore and said, “What are you doing?  You’re a kamikaze!  It looks like you’re trying to kill yourself!”  Welp.  Guess my efforts looked like they were going about as well as they felt they were

What a role model...

going!  He told me that it was time to come in and take a break and that lunch would be served soon.  Jess and Kyle came in at this point, too.  Kyle had been surfing once or twice before and had a bit of a head start on the two of us but was nonetheless having some trouble getting the hang of the waves (although I would have easily traded, as ‘having some trouble getting the hang of the waves’ is a different thing entirely from being completely annihilated by the water without even being able to stand up) and Jess looked kind of like I felt- completely exhausted and much more salty.  

I peeled off my wetsuit, slathered on some more sunscreen, and relaxed while waiting for the delivery of our sandwich lunches, enjoying watching other people attempt to surf with varying degrees of success and taking notes on possible helpful techniques.  Kyle showed me some guys that were holding their boards above their heads so that they wouldn’t get caught in the waves and impede the ability to get out further in the water (extra helpful for shorter people, myself included!).  I also saw the technique of diving into the wave with the board- either staying on top or spinning and doing a roll.  Our sandwiches and our avocado juice (yes, avocado juice!) were delicious and refueled me for another attempt.  With newfound energy and renewed determination, I squeezed back into that darn wetsuit and headed out for another try.  I think that Tarik felt bad for me and really wanted to see me succeed, so he came down to the water’s edge and played the role of personal coach, allowing me to go out and try and then call me back in for immediate feedback and suggestions.  This was really tiring (having to run all the way out of the water and then back in!) but extremely helpful, as I finally figured out some of what he wanted me to do.  

After several more (unsuccessful) attempts followed up with Tarik’s advice, I picked my wave, paddled along as I was caught up in it, pushed my upper body up, kept my elbows in, and got my feet underneath me, managing to STAND UP on the board!  I probably only lasted a couple of seconds, but it felt AMAZING and was totally worth all of the morning’s pain.  Tarik was just as excited as I was, and sent me back out to try again.  Throughout the course of the next hour or two, I won’t claim that I became a surfing expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I was able to get up and ‘hang ten’ :) on a semi-consistent basis.  I’m really glad that I didn’t give up after the challenging morning and I’m excited to see how much more I’ll be able to improve the next time I give surfing a try!

Tired after a long, SUCCESSFUL day of surfing!