On a Wave and a Prayer in Taghazout
I was paddling into position to catch my next wave when the call to prayer sounded from the village across the beach. It was a low, mesmerizing moan.
“Allah Akhbar!’’ (“God is great.’’) A reminder of our humility. On a barren hillside in the distance someone had arranged enormous white-painted rocks to spell in Arabic:
“God. Nation. King.’’
Dude, I thought, you are a long way from Cape Cod.
I had come to Morocco to visit my oldest son, who was spending a junior semester learning Arabic. But as I was planning the trip my surfing buddies in New England told me I would be crazy to pass up Morocco’s world-class waves. Like most Americans, I had never associated surfing and Morocco.
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