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logo

  • HOME
  • ABOUT
  • THE FAMILY ALBUM
  • ONCE UPON A TIME IN ROMANIA
    • ▸Bucharest, 1989: The days of Revolution
    • ▸I’ve also lived under communism
    • ▸Portraits of transition
    • ▸”Cabernet cu pepsi”
    • ▸Romania, 1990: Beyond the headlines
    • ▸“Mineriada” – My story
    • ▸Memorial of pain
  • WORK IN PROGRESS
    • ▸Barbershop
    • ▸Melancholic Identities
    • ▸Faces
    • ▸Fragmentary world
    • ▸Two
    • ▸Buddhist monks
    • ▸About windows and walls
    • ▸Mediterraneo
  • STORIES
    • ▸Alone, together
    • ▸Life and death in Varanasi
    • ▸Trans-Siberian – An experience of becoming
    • ▸Boxing in Havana
    • ▸Moving out of Escobar shadow
    • ▸One night at Htee Thein monastery
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – I misteri
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – La pasquetta
    • ▸Stalin’s Museum in Gori
    • ▸Havana: Between magic and decay
    • ▸Muay Thai for a day
    • ▸Cuban billboards
    • ▸Seeking a geisha
    • ▸Belfast’s murals: Behind and beyond
    • ▸Riding the Yangon’s ring train
    • ▸Bazar-Barakholka-Vernisazh
    • ▸An unexpected trip to Dhobi Ghat
    • ▸A different way to look at death
    • ▸Cannes under siege
    • ▸Inside the Guru’s kitchen
    • ▸Tibetan refugees
    • ▸The Golden Triangle: A Mecca of tribal diversity
    • ▸Bullfighting: Barbaric or art ?
    • ▸Crafts and traditions in Morroco
    • ▸Glastonbury with God
  • TRAVEL
    • Cuba
      • ▸The show must go on (part 1)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 2)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 3)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 4)
    • France
      • ▸Paris
      • ▸Paris. Again
    • Greece
      • ▸Mount Athos
      • ▸Postcards from Santorini
      • ▸Athens
      • ▸Mykonos – The picture-perfect Island
    • Germany
      • ▸Berlin
    • Vietnam
      • ▸Four days in Hanoi
      • ▸Cruising through the misty Halong Bay
    • India
      • ▸Portraits of Kashmir
      • ▸Rishikesh – Spiritual marketplace
      • ▸Life on the Sidewalk
    • Ireland
      • ▸The capital of pubs
      • ▸Ireland in ten days
    • Israel
      • ▸Israel in black & white
    • Colombia
      • ▸Colombia
      • ▸Paisas, coffee and much more
      • ▸Streets of Bogota – From Dystopia to Hope
      • ▸Life along the magical Magdalena River
      • ▸A non-touristy guide to Cartagena’s Caribbean paradise
    • Myanmar
      • ▸Min-ga-la-ba Myanmar
      • ▸Up and down on the hills of Shan State
    • Japan
      • ▸Tokyo
      • ▸Springtime in Kyoto
    • Portugal
      • ▸Life at the edge of Europe
    • Russian Federation
      • ▸The unexpected Moscow
      • ▸White Nights in St. Petersburg
    • Italy
      • ▸Rome
      • ▸Random Sicily
      • ▸Vedi Napoli e poi mori
      • ▸Venice
      • ▸Vanishing Venice
    • Morocco
      • ▸Sunset, camel rides and tea in Erg Chebi
      • ▸Medinas: Morocco’s hidden cities
      • ▸Morocco outskirts
      • ▸Djemaa El Fna encounters
      • ▸Surf and hippies
      • ▸The road of the One thousand kasbahs
      • ▸Amazigh – Berber – Free men
    • Georgia
      • ▸Postcards from Georgia
      • ▸The Many Faces of Tbilisi
    • Nepal
      • ▸Kathmandu Valley
    • Romania
      • ▸Romania to go
      • ▸Maramures
      • ▸Tara Motilor
    • Jordan
      • ▸Bedouin Trails
    • Turkey
      • ▸From Turkey with love
      • ▸Ballooning Cappadocia
      • ▸Where East meets West
      • ▸Street life, Istanbul-style
    • Mexico
      • ▸Finding Mexico City
    • Malaysia
      • ▸Transit KL
    • UK
      • ▸London
      • ▸Grab your kilt and bring your pipes
    • Sweden
      • ▸Stockholm
    • Spain
      • ▸Off-season Andalusia
    • Thailand
      • ▸Bangkok, year 2555
      • ▸Life in Pai
      • ▸Thailand
    • Laos
      • ▸Luang Prabang – The City of ultimate Zen
    • Poland
      • ▸Why I love Poland
    • Estonia, Latvia & Lithuania
      • ▸Neighbors, but not relatives
      • ▸Patarei – A little slice of Hell
    • Findland
      • ▸A sunny day in Helsinki
    • Denmark
      • ▸Copenhagen
  • SINGLES
  • CONTACT
  • MY BOOKS
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  • Cookie Policy (EU)
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Surf and Hippies

 

Just some few kilometers north of Agadir, lies the fisher village of Taghazoute: a haven for new age hippies to take a break and for new age surfers to catch some waves as the area is known to have the best waves of all Morocco. On this Atlantic coast line the weather is sun blessed all year round, although the winter months can bring cool conditions.

The village has seen some different travelers over the last few centuries. In the early days when Taghazout was a place to leave your boat, nets and hooks the only buildings around were some huts to store the fishing nets. Bob Marley, who is still a local idol spent time here after hippies discovered the village in the sixties and even tried to buy the whole land of Taghazoute. He had to give up when more than 50 parties, all claiming to represent the landowners showed up for negotiation.

Even if there always are a handful of tourists here or more precisely pseudo hippies and even if there is a beach polluted by caravan tourism just south of it, Taghazoute still lives at its own pace. All people wear traditional clothes, wooden boats lie on the shore, painted with colorful patterns, fishermen mend their fishing nets, people live in their simple white houses with doors of many colors and intricate patterns, totally ignoring all these strange people walking around the streets, taking snap shots of every house corner. The perfect climate, low prices and friendly people have turned this place into a real paradise for surfers from all corners of the world.

 

 

 

 

Surf and Hippies

 

Just some few kilometers north of Agadir, lies the fisher village of Taghazoute: a haven for new age hippies to take a break and for new age surfers to catch some waves as the area is known to have the best waves of all Morocco. On this Atlantic coast line the weather is sun blessed all year round, although the winter months can bring cool conditions.

The village has seen some different travelers over the last few centuries. In the early days when Taghazout was a place to leave your boat, nets and hooks the only buildings around were some huts to store the fishing nets. Bob Marley, who is still a local idol spent time here after hippies discovered the village in the sixties and even tried to buy the whole land of Taghazoute. He had to give up when more than 50 parties, all claiming to represent the landowners showed up for negotiation.

Even if there always are a handful of tourists here or more precisely pseudo hippies and even if there is a beach polluted by caravan tourism just south of it, Taghazoute still lives at its own pace. All people wear traditional clothes, wooden boats lie on the shore, painted with colorful patterns, fishermen mend their fishing nets, people live in their simple white houses with doors of many colors and intricate patterns, totally ignoring all these strange people walking around the streets, taking snap shots of every house corner. The perfect climate, low prices and friendly people have turned this place into a real paradise for surfers from all corners of the world.

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