Surfin’ the Ocean Purple

Each January, Durham students return with a wealth of anecdotes about their time on Palatinalps “raving it up on the slopes”. This yearly ‘piste up’ is not the only ‘extreme’ sports university trip and January also returns a small elite from the Durham University Surf trip to Morocco.

“Durham has a surf club?!” Indeed we do. Whenever the coast of Hartlepool produces a decent swell, a few curly haired fellas and lasses strap boards to their cars, wetsuit up and brave the glamourless and freezing North Sea in the hope of catching a few ‘gnarly’ waves.

Every January a group of twenty or so Durhamites depart head to Taghazout, Morocco, a much sunnier and warmer location than their ski-suited counterparts.

Inevitably the stereotype surfer comes to mind; super chilled and…well…super chilled. And what better way to define the Durham surf trip. When not surfing, there’s plenty of tanning, lying around, eating, sleeping and the occasional cultural escapade into town. And whilst you might try and compare a week of snow and powder to a week of sea and surf,  to say one is better than the other is like comparing boobs and bums; everyone has their preference.

We shacked up at Morocco’s prime surf house, Surf Berbere, where we awoke everyday to the sun climbing our backs, fisherman heading out to… fish…, and the smell of spice and success in the air. All clichés aside, Berbere provide awesome local surf instructors who, when not doping around (wink wink), provided quality coaching and encouragement for newbies, all the while humbling us with awesome displays.

A full day’s surfing will leave a beginner knackered, so afternoons were devoted to the surfer art of chillin’. We bathed in the rays, our minds far away from the sub-zero temperatures battering Durham .

The small group of very good surfers rented a car, go pros ready, and followed the surf forecast to the biggest and best waves. Mark Spencer, president of the club, estimates he has surfed two days a week since he was seven. No wonder he and the others could complete skilled acrobatic moves on a tiny piece of wood as vast torrents of water propelled them towards the shoreline.

And it’s really only after a week of struggling to stand up on a dribble of white water like a drunk toddler can you appreciate the real skill that goes into carving up ‘tsunamis’ and ‘triple overheads’ throughout the day.

As we started to find out, one can only chill so much in a day. And as the sun sunk slowly into the sea, there was no lack of boozing and partying. If a club can be defined by its socials, then you would have found us drunk, dancing and ending up semi naked on the beach much to the displeasure of our Sunni hosts. Our cushioned الخيمة  (dining tent) was host to ring of fire and other favourites, providing the feel of an intimate house party very unlike the vast parties that would have been raging on the slopes.

So next year consider shafting your skis and switching your goggle marks for a full body tan. I wholeheartedly recommend it. Not only will your bank account be happier for it, you may return with curly hair, a tan and the right to wear a sharks-tooth necklace.

When Charlie isn’t chillin’, tannin’ or surfin’ he trains hard at triathlon, ultrarunning, and being more ‘edgy’ and ‘vain’. Catch more of  his thoughts on the gnarlier side of life throughout the term.

You can join the Durham University Surf Club (link: http://www.facebook.com/groups/18682850035/?fref=ts) by liking their page on facebook.