MOROCCAN ROLL
LAUREN TAYLOR heads to North Africa in search of some much-needed winter sunshine and surf
WELL, you know what they say. The world’s your oyster. That’s definitely the case in Oualidia, nestled on the Atlantic coast between Casablanca and El Jadida.
It’s known as the ‘oyster capital of Morocco’ – one of only two regions farming them in the country.
“The taste is slightly different to French sea oysters,” Nabil El Bahri, duty manager at La Sultana Oualidia – the area’s only luxury hotel – tells me.
“The salt is different and the tide goes in and out, so they spend six hours a day out of the water.”
They are, indeed, different; flavourful but delicate.
We’re taking lunch on the beach, which curves into the distance, meeting a natural break creating the protected and picturesque Oualidia bay.
Fringed with generous golden sands and a raised sandbar in the centre, gentle waves roll and sizeable Atlantic breakers crash against the rocky ridge.
This is the best-kept secret of Morocco’s coast: it’s quiet, unspoiled and undiscovered by European tourists, unlike the hippy town of Essaouira and sprawling seaside resort of Agadir.
Once a traditional fishing village, Oualidia is becoming increasingly upmarket, thanks to well-to-do people from Marrakech and Casablanca escaping to their blue-shuttered, white-washed holiday homes at weekends. But you won’t find beachside bars with plastic chairs or rows of paid-for deckchairs on the sand.
It’s November, but even the winter temperatures are warm enough, particularly for a more active break – canoeing, surfing or fat-tyre biking along the shore.
Is it usually so quiet?
“At this time of year, yes. In summer it’s too busy,” says Youness, a waiter, who works at the hotel. “This is the best time of year here, or in March and April.”
What you get is the guarantee of good weather without sweltering heat, no crowds and a vastly different culture – less than three-and-a-half hours from the UK.
Across the water, gold-painted crumbling ruins remain of Morocco’s royal family’s kasbah from the Fifties, when King Mohammed V declared this the first royal beach.
Five-star La Sultana has royal connections too (the king’s mother has stayed here three times) but its glamour isn’t ostentatious.
Tucked subtly into the curve of the lagoon, a pier lined with twinkling lights reaches out into the water where a local catch of bream, squid and monkfish is barbecued and served up on white tablecloths after sunset.
As the tide retreats mid-morning, fishermen scatter to hand-pick spider crabs and razor clams, as well as the vibrant green wild samphire now peeping through the sea water pools, all staples on the hotel restaurant menu, for which as much as possible is sourced on their doorstep.
Organic herbs and vegetables grow in the kitchen garden, too, and chickens lay eggs for breakfast. It wouldn’t be true luxury without an infinity pool, which falls away into the view of the lagoon. There’s also a traditional hammam spa (an experience not for the shy).
Each of the grand-beyond-belief rooms has its own large private terrace complete with an outdoor daybed and hot tub to sink into as the sun sets, palm trees framing candy colours spread across the sky.
With only 12 rooms, there’s a genuine feeling you’re being looked after. Each guest is handed a smartphone with Nabil on speed dial.
Such love and enthusiasm for this place, and its locally sourced food, runs in Nabil’s blood – his grandmother farmed the lands just the other side of the property and agriculture is still most people’s livelihood here. This side of Oualidia is best experienced as part of a guided bird safari by (who else?) Nabil.
“When I was a boy, it was all tomatoes growing here,” he says. A problem with yellow fly in the 1990s wiped out much of the red crop and many families sold up and moved on. These days, the lagoonside lands are most likely to be filled with rows of carrots and turnips.
“Cormorant!” Nabil points. And soon the banks are awash with storks and egrets. The protected lagoon has a rich ecosystem, with 400 species of bird coming to feed in autumn and spring. Further along, flamingos balance in salt marshes mid-migration from Spain to sub-Saharan Africa.
Morocco is more famous for surf than storks, though. Safi, an hour from here, is considered to have some of the best waves in Africa, but the gentle undulating waves inside Oualidia bay are safe enough for beginners.
It’s my first time and Medhi, a laidback 24-year-old instructor from Surfland Surf Camp, greets me with a fist bump and declares “It’s easy!”.
Over the next hour and a half, he persistently gives me a push onto each wave, encouragingly yelling, “Stand up now! Bend your knees now!” and sometimes “No not like that!” He’s determined he’ll make a surfer of me yet.
We almost have the waves to ourselves, bar a couple of local surfers giving me a wide berth. Even being splashed repeatedly in the face with salty water can’t dampen the life-affirming exhilaration of riding even the smallest of waves in this unassuming little pocket of the world.
Get here before it gets busy.
The protected lagoon has a rich ecosystem with 400 species of bird coming along to feed