Photo by Hayley Spurway
At six months pregnant I wasn’t up for much sightseeing in searing temperatures, so hiking in the Atlas Mountains or haggling in the souks of Marrakesh was off the agenda. Instead our radar was tuned to the surf and the seascapes, whilst we also wanted to experience some authentic Moroccan culture and cuisine. Keen to avoid the tourist hotspots and hotel buffets (so often the cause of food poisoning), we plumped for the tiny fishing village of Imsouane, about an hour’s taxi ride from Agadir.
Adrift from the surfing hub of Taghazout and the crowds of Essaouira, Imsouane is the sort of place where donkeys and goats roam dusty streets, and fishermen row out through peeling waves ridden by a growing fraternity of surfers. Rugged, crowd-free beaches backed by staggering sand cliffs yawn in either direction from the harbour, and a cooling sea breeze takes the edge off the heat. Like many other small villages dotted along Morocco’s Atlantic coast, in Imsouane there really is very little to do, which is a luxury when you’re sporting a huge bump. Besides, the whole point of a babymoon is to relax and spend quality time in each other’s company.
The fact that alcohol is frowned upon and not readily available in Morocco only adds to the country’s appeal as a babymoon destination. In a place where my partner couldn’t swill his bodyweight in beer while I politely sipped soda water, we both became quite addicted to the ritual of drinking sweet mint tea instead. Yet evenings were far from boring, with card games and coherent conversations, and entertainment in the form of impromptu music nights where locals and visitors jammed on bongos and tambourines. One evening our guesthouse even hosted a Moroccan birthday party, with traditional costume, music and dancing that went on into the night.