沖浪，其實(shí)并不難

For years, I’ve assumed that surfing is something that other people do. Younger, fitter, people. People who look good in neoprene and have highly developed upper-body strength. In oceans around the world, I’ve swum around surfers, and past them. I’ve observed the mating rituals of surfer dudes and surfer dudettes — the specialised language and elaborate signalling behaviours. And I have bought into the surfing myth: that it is a tough sport for fearless people where only the strong survive.

多年來(lái)，我一直以為沖浪是別人玩的運(yùn)動(dòng)。它適合身體強(qiáng)壯的年輕人、適合穿上潛水服后形象好，而且上肢力量特別大的人。在全球各大洋，我曾在沖浪者周?chē)芜^(guò)泳，也曾從他們旁邊游過(guò)。我也曾仔細(xì)觀察過(guò)男女配對(duì)的沖浪動(dòng)作——具有專門(mén)的形體語(yǔ)言與復(fù)雜的信息傳遞行為方式。于是，我對(duì)沖浪形成了錯(cuò)誤看法：它是無(wú)畏者的極限運(yùn)動(dòng)，只有身強(qiáng)力壯的人方能勝任。

And then, on the first day of my first surf holiday, I make a key discovery. Five minutes after getting into the water, and on my second-ever wave, I’m standing on my feet and doing a double-handed victory wave as I power towards the shore. My technique consists of belly-flopping on to the board and then somehow scrabbling to my feet. And moments later I’m plunging headlong into the waves. But I have urgent news from the surfing frontline to report and it is this: surfing . . . it’s really not that hard. The surfing myth might be nothing more than ideological propaganda designed to keep middle-aged people like me from making it uncool. Too late. It’s actually a piece of cake, I tell anyone who’ll listen.

然而，在我的首次沖浪假期的第一天，就有了全新發(fā)現(xiàn)。入水才五分鐘(也是自己有生以來(lái)的第二次沖浪嘗試)，我就成功踏立于水面，并以高舉雙手的沖浪姿勢(shì)向著海岸快速?zèng)_去。而我受教的技術(shù)動(dòng)作包括了腹部先貼著沖浪板、而后是搖搖晃晃努力站立;再過(guò)了一會(huì)兒，自己就會(huì)一頭栽進(jìn)水里。但我在沖浪一線現(xiàn)場(chǎng)有“緊急軍情”向諸位報(bào)告，那就是：沖浪……真的不難。沖浪難學(xué)也許只是宣傳噱頭，旨在嚇唬住我這樣的中年人，讓我們覺(jué)得這是非同尋常的運(yùn)動(dòng)。嘿嘿，一切太晚了!實(shí)際上它學(xué)起來(lái)易如反掌，我來(lái)告訴大家這個(gè)真相吧。

Sure, I exaggerate a little. I’ve come with my friend, Cath, who jaunts up first thing, pleased with her hired wetsuit until someone points out that she’s put it on back-to-front. When she gets into the sea, she’s beaten back by the waves; an hour later, she trudges back to the beach, dejected, while I attempt, not totally successfully, not to crow.

當(dāng)然，也許我還是稍有些夸大其辭。我與好友凱茜(Cath)一起來(lái)歡度沖浪旅行，她一大早就跑來(lái)了，穿著租來(lái)的潛水服得意洋洋，最后有人指出她把前后穿反了。她一入水就被海浪打翻;一個(gè)小時(shí)后，筋疲力盡的她神情沮喪地回到海灘，而我則努力抑制自鳴得意的神情(盡管還是不經(jīng)意間顯露出來(lái))。

“I just don’t think it’s my thing,” she says, only to change her tune entirely half an hour later when she rides her first wave in and is pumping-her-fists-in-the-air jubilant. In truth, both our triumphs have little to do with us and a lot to do with our surfing instructor, Youssef Amzil. He’s there by our sides, choosing the wave and propelling us out on to it on giant, sturdy, spongy beginner’s boards that are not dissimilar to life-rafts.

“我覺(jué)得沖浪不是我擅長(zhǎng)的。”她說(shuō)，但半小時(shí)后就完全“回心轉(zhuǎn)意”了：她首次成功踏浪，于是高舉拳頭歡呼雀躍。事實(shí)上，我倆的成功與自身毫無(wú)關(guān)系，功勞首先應(yīng)歸在我倆的沖浪教練優(yōu)素福•阿姆茲爾(Youssef Amzil)頭上。他一直呆在我倆身邊，幫我們挑選適宜的海浪，并讓我們踩著碩大結(jié)實(shí)、適合初學(xué)者的海綿狀沖浪板(酷似救生箋)乘風(fēng)破浪。

Youssef is a Berber. And, 20 years ago in this part of Morocco, on the Atlantic coast just north of Agadir, he would probably have grown up and become an olive farmer like his father. But in this, the age of budget airlines, he is a surfing Berber. A Berber dude with sun-bleached hair who picks us up in the minibus every morning to drive us to the breaks — oh yes, how quickly I learn the lingo — and plays what sound like Berber surfing classics. It’s the dog days of winter and here, a couple of hours from Stansted, we have stumbled into an Arabic-inflected Beach Boys movie.

優(yōu)素福是柏柏爾(Berber)人，20年前，在摩洛哥阿加迪爾(Agadir)北邊的這片大西洋海域長(zhǎng)大，他原本是子承父業(yè)：成為一名種植橄欖的農(nóng)民。但在如今的廉價(jià)航空時(shí)代，他卻成為了一名教授沖浪的柏柏爾人。這位因常年日曬而頭發(fā)變白的小伙每天一大早用中巴車(chē)接我們?nèi)ビ瓮?沒(méi)錯(cuò)，我很快學(xué)會(huì)了當(dāng)?shù)胤窖?，并彈奏著酷似柏柏爾風(fēng)格的經(jīng)典沖浪樂(lè)曲。炎炎冬日里，在距英國(guó)斯坦斯特德(Stansted)幾個(gè)小時(shí)航程的摩洛哥，我們仿佛置身于一部阿拉伯風(fēng)情的“海灘男孩”(Beach Boys)影片中

Surf Maroc, the company we’ve come with, more or less invented the Moroccan surfing holiday. Ollie Boswell and Ben O’Hara, its founders, friends from Swansea University who bonded over their love of surfing, came to Morocco in the early 2000s, stumbled upon Taghazout and set up their first surf camp with five boards in a rented villa.

我們簽約的旅行社Surf Maroc算是創(chuàng)推了摩洛哥沖浪度假模式。其創(chuàng)始人奧利•博斯韋爾(Ollie Boswell)與本•奧哈拉(Ben O’Hara)都來(lái)自英國(guó)斯旺西大學(xué)(Swansea University)，因酷愛(ài)沖浪而成為密友的他們于本世紀(jì)初來(lái)到摩洛哥，無(wú)意中發(fā)現(xiàn)了Taghazout這片迷人海灘，于是在當(dāng)?shù)刈饨枇艘淮眲e墅，用五塊沖浪板建起了他倆的首個(gè)沖浪訓(xùn)練營(yíng)。

“I was in Portugal and I saw these people pull up in a bus, get out and surf,” Ollie tells me. “And I rang Ben and said, ‘Surf camps. They’re a thing. This is what we have to do.’ Our theory was that Morocco would be for Europeans what Central America is for Americans, and that’s more or less what’s happened.”

“我當(dāng)時(shí)呆在葡萄牙，看到游客坐著大巴去沖浪。”奧利對(duì)我說(shuō)，“我于是給本打電話，‘沖浪訓(xùn)練營(yíng)大有可為，咱倆就干這行吧。’我們覺(jué)得：摩洛哥對(duì)于歐洲人就如同中美洲對(duì)于美國(guó)人，成功幾乎是鐵板釘釘?shù)氖隆?rdquo;

They’ve gradually grown the business with accommodation across several villas and apartments and, along the way, spawned a mini-industry. I too came to Taghazout in the early 2000s and it was a tiny ramshackle village that had been a hippie outpost in Morocco’s 1960s countercultural heyday — Jimi Hendrix once visited — with smelly rooms to rent, and the only facility a standpipe tap. It’s still pretty ramshackle — but now it’s ramshackle with a surfing theme. Dozens of other operators have aped the surf-holiday formula. But this winter Surf Maroc changed the game again when it opened its first purpose-built boutique hotel, the Amouage.

他倆租用多幢別墅與公寓接待游客，生意就慢慢做大了;隨著時(shí)間推移，逐漸打造出了一個(gè)微型產(chǎn)業(yè)。我在本世紀(jì)初也曾去過(guò)Taghazout，當(dāng)時(shí)這里是個(gè)破敗小村落：出租屋房間臭氣熏天，唯一的設(shè)施是豎管式水龍頭。在上世紀(jì)60年代摩洛哥反文化運(yùn)動(dòng)全盛時(shí)，Taghazout曾是嬉皮士的前哨陣地，美國(guó)著名樂(lè)手吉米•亨德里克斯(Jimi Hendrix)也曾造訪過(guò)它。如今的Taghazout仍舊破敗不堪——但現(xiàn)在的它有了沖浪這個(gè)旅游主題。幾十家旅行社爭(zhēng)相推出“沖浪度假”模式。但Surf Maroc今冬又別出心裁：開(kāi)設(shè)了首家專門(mén)服務(wù)于沖浪度假客的精品酒店——Amouage。

I’m somewhat conflicted about this before I arrive. I’m not sure I want upmarket when it comes to surfing. Isn’t that somehow against the whole surf-camp spirit? Counter to the fundamental dudishness? I’ve seen enough “boutique” hotels to treat the word with caution. But then I walk through the front door, catch a waft of woodsmoke, and succumb instantly. It’s stunning — a modernist, light-filled space that’s been done with real flair and style, the first hotel I’ve been to that looks better in real life than it does in the photos. Cath has arrived on an earlier flight and I find her in a state of overexcitement down in the bar. The floors are poured concrete overlaid with cosy Berber rugs, and there’s a roaring fire burning in the grate — it’s warm and sunny in the day but chilly at night — interesting modern art on the walls and a fabric-covered egg-shaped chair suspended from the ceiling. There’s even alcohol.

抵達(dá)Amouage前，我對(duì)其定位仍持矛盾看法，自己玩沖浪時(shí)需要高檔服務(wù)嗎?這不是與整個(gè)沖浪訓(xùn)練營(yíng)理念相沖突嗎?它是否與沖浪運(yùn)動(dòng)賴以為本的講究背道而馳?我見(jiàn)過(guò)太多“精品酒店”，定位“精品”時(shí)慎之又慎。然而，當(dāng)我走進(jìn)酒店前門(mén)時(shí)，映入眼簾的是柴煙裊裊，立馬就被折服了。酒店讓我震撼：風(fēng)格現(xiàn)代、采光充足，既時(shí)尚又新潮，這是本人見(jiàn)過(guò)的首家實(shí)際效果勝過(guò)照片形象的酒店。凱茜比我先抵達(dá)酒店，我看到坐在酒吧的她異常亢奮。混凝土地面鋪著溫馨愜意的柏柏爾風(fēng)格地毯，壁爐中火光熊熊(酒店白天陽(yáng)光明媚、暖意融融，但晚上卻是陣陣寒意)，墻上掛著有趣的現(xiàn)代藝術(shù)作品，罩著蒙布的蛋形椅子從天花板懸垂而下。酒店還提供酒。

A week or so before departure we’d received an email that had warned us that Taghazout was dry. “Stock up in duty free,” it warned ominously. “But then our licence came through,” says Ollie. And the Amouage now boasts the first bar in Taghazout. “And it’s only taken us 13 years.” Building the hotel was a whole other nightmare, he says, five years of trying to get permissions. “Our default position is to trust people until proven wrong. Here it’s the complete opposite. In business you have to distrust everyone and assume that they are all trying to rip you off. Which they probably are.”

大約動(dòng)身前一周，我們接到了電子郵件：提醒我們Taghazout氣候干燥。“備足免稅貨品。”郵件提前預(yù)告我們，“但當(dāng)時(shí)我們的營(yíng)業(yè)執(zhí)照到期了。”奧利說(shuō)。如今的Amouage精品酒店自詡擁有Taghazout首家酒吧。“開(kāi)設(shè)酒吧前前后后花了13年時(shí)間。”他又說(shuō)，建造酒店則是另一場(chǎng)“夢(mèng)魘”，光申請(qǐng)手續(xù)就花了五年時(shí)間。“信任對(duì)方是我們的默認(rèn)立場(chǎng)，但事后證明這是錯(cuò)的。在Taghazout，事實(shí)與想象完全南轅北轍。在商界，你不能相信任何人，設(shè)想對(duì)方想方設(shè)法坑蒙拐騙。對(duì)方往往是如此。”

It was worth it, though. Upstairs, our room is perfect: white, spare with a large wooden decking area and views out to the garden, with its hammocks and loungers and infinity pool, and out to the Atlantic shipping lanes beyond. And, for all the concrete floors, it’s really not a boutique hotel — its surf-camp roots show through: all meals are eaten communally, and there’s even a dorm room. It’s a boutique-ish dorm room, split into mini-cubicles, but a dorm room nonetheless. It was a last-minute addition, Ollie says, but it’s a stroke of genius: it means it avoids the dead-eyed atmosphere you get in places where only couples congregate — where the slightly forced nature of romantic mini-breakdom can result in passive-aggressive outbursts with the breakfast condiments. At Amouage, it’s genuinely friendly and convivial and boasts a revolving cast of old-time surfing pros; people there for a quick blast of sun; long-term guests such as Bertrand, a contractor based in Iraq who uses the place as his home-from-home when he’s back from Helmand; and a large group of friends from Bristol and London on what is their annual surf trip.

然而，這一切努力都是值得的。我走到樓上，看到房間無(wú)可挑剔：白色主調(diào)，辟出大片木質(zhì)裝飾區(qū)域，樓下花園景致盡收眼底：吊床、躺椅以及大泳池，遠(yuǎn)處大西洋上的運(yùn)輸船一覽無(wú)遺。盡管是酒店混凝土地面，但它并非真正的精品酒店——沖浪訓(xùn)練營(yíng)風(fēng)格顯露無(wú)遺：每頓飯都一起享用，甚至還有一個(gè)集體宿舍。但這是精品酒店風(fēng)格的宿舍：辟成多個(gè)小隔間，然而卻是真正的集體宿舍。奧利說(shuō)，這是最后才隔出來(lái)的，但它是靈光乍現(xiàn)的產(chǎn)物：這意味著這兒可避免那種夫妻云集場(chǎng)所直勾勾盯著對(duì)方的窘境出現(xiàn)——浪漫小長(zhǎng)假那種稍顯逼仄的氛圍，有時(shí)在使用早餐調(diào)料時(shí)都可能釀成被動(dòng)性(或主動(dòng))沖突。而Amouage酒店的氣氛則真正融洽而歡快，它自詡是昔日職業(yè)沖浪運(yùn)動(dòng)的重現(xiàn)。游客來(lái)這里享受短平快的陽(yáng)光浴，伊拉克承包商伯特蘭(Bertrand)這樣的長(zhǎng)住嘉賓從赫爾曼德省(Helmand)返回此地時(shí)，把這里當(dāng)作第二故鄉(xiāng);而我那些來(lái)自英國(guó)布列斯托及倫敦的大批友人則每年來(lái)此歡度沖浪假期。

James, a sound director in the film industry who lives in south-west London, claims that it’s quicker for him to come surfing here than it is to go to Cornwall. It’s a good line, I tell him, but it’s about as truthful as my surfing-is-a-cakewalk claim. “It is! I’m half an hour from Gatwick. It’s a three-hour flight. And then it’s half an hour in a taxi to the hotel. It’s less than five hours, door-to-door. Plus, it’s cheaper, the weather’s better and you don’t have to sit in a jam on the M5.”

生活在倫敦西南部的電影音效師詹姆斯(James)認(rèn)為，相比本國(guó)的康沃爾(Cornwall)，來(lái)這里沖浪耗時(shí)更短。我說(shuō)他真會(huì)說(shuō)話，但它與我的沖浪易如反掌的說(shuō)法一樣在理。“對(duì)!我住的地方距蓋特威克機(jī)場(chǎng)(Gatwick)僅半小時(shí)車(chē)程，坐3小時(shí)飛機(jī)，再搭半小時(shí)出租就能抵達(dá)酒店。從倫敦家里到入住酒店，總耗時(shí)不到5小時(shí)。此外，來(lái)此旅游的費(fèi)用要便宜得多，氣候也比康沃爾要好得多，而且無(wú)需開(kāi)著寶馬M5忍受一路交通擁堵之苦。”

Their group has grown older with Surf Maroc. But then the surfing demographic has grown older and more affluent as the company has, though Taghazout still has a rakish charm. Amouage is on the fringes of the town, which is a plus-point, because while the tiny beach is an Instagrammable jumble of whitewashed houses and fishing boats, the infrastructure hasn’t quite kept up with the pace of change, and when the wind turns, there’s a faint but undeniable whiff of sewers in the air.

他們這么多年來(lái)一直是Surf Maroc旅行社的老主顧。然而，來(lái)此沖浪度假的游客也成了多年的回頭客，而且也與Surf Maroc一樣經(jīng)濟(jì)實(shí)力大增，盡管Taghazout仍有著不拘俗套的迷人魅力。Amouage酒店位于小鎮(zhèn)邊上，這算是閃光點(diǎn)，原因是，這片海灘面積很小，盡管遍布的白色房子和漁船很值得在Instagram炫耀，但小鎮(zhèn)的基礎(chǔ)設(shè)施仍差強(qiáng)人意，每當(dāng)刮海風(fēng)時(shí)，空氣中總飄著污水的臭味。

But change is coming. The coast is mile after mile of sandy beaches but the Moroccan government has earmarked it all as a tourist development zone. I walk back from the break each day after our surf lesson — 5km along an empty shore — and all the way there are cranes and half-built hotels, though much of it looks stalled, a development bubble that’s waiting for better economic times.

但小鎮(zhèn)正在發(fā)生滄桑巨變。這段海岸有著綿延的沙灘，摩洛哥政府已把它全部辟為旅游發(fā)展區(qū)。我每天上完沖浪課后步行回酒店時(shí)(5公里的空曠海灘)，一路上看到的盡是吊車(chē)與正在興建的酒店，盡管很多像是爛尾樓，這些泡沫經(jīng)濟(jì)時(shí)代的產(chǎn)物正等待著經(jīng)濟(jì)恢復(fù)景氣。

Amouage is undeniably slick but it feels a million miles from the corporate hospitality industry. Ben and Ollie both have young families they’re bringing up in Taghazout, and everything about the operation has been done with love and care, from the vintage Arabic found objects interspersed through the hotel with works made by a series of visiting artists, to the plentiful meals — chicken with harissa and yoghurt, and great bowls of salad — eaten, family-style, staff and guests together. And there’s such an enjoyable rhythm to the holiday: the surf lessons give it structure, and the feel-goodness of being outside in the sun doing something active in the middle of winter has the power of a drug. A drug with side-effects: bruised ribs, battered shoulders, pulled muscles. I can feel every one of my intercostal muscles — all sore.

Amouage酒店無(wú)疑很漂亮，但距離商務(wù)接待行業(yè)標(biāo)準(zhǔn)還有很大差距。本與奧利都是剛在Taghazout成家立業(yè)，無(wú)論是酒店布置的阿拉伯老古董(用造訪酒店的藝術(shù)家設(shè)計(jì)的作品穿插點(diǎn)綴)、還是全家享用或員工游客共用的豐盛美食(哈里薩辣醬雞、酸奶以及大碗沙拉)，他倆都用心去經(jīng)營(yíng)。整個(gè)沖浪假期安排得有趣又愉快：沖浪課是主線，在隆冬時(shí)節(jié)炎炎烈日下的沖浪實(shí)戰(zhàn)讓人欲罷不能。但這種上癮有眾多“副作用”：肋骨瘀青、肩膀磨損以及肌肉拉傷。每次沖浪后，我感覺(jué)自己每塊肋間肌肉都在酸痛。

Which is where the yoga comes in. There are lessons twice a day at sunrise and sunset and, despite the late nights, it’s not hard to get up for 7am to go up to the roof and watch the sky turn pink while a pack of feral of dogs howls in the background. Though I enjoy it at sunset even more. Cath grumbles but I like what I think of as the teacher Rebecca’s brutal existentialism. Her yoga isn’t about mixy-matchy Sweaty Betty outfits. “You are born alone,” she says at one point as the sun drifts down over the Atlantic and the dogs start to yowl. “And you will die alone.”

此時(shí)瑜伽就能大顯身手了：每天早晚各練一次;盡管練得很晚，但第二天早上7點(diǎn)仍能起床到酒店頂上練瑜伽——同時(shí)欣賞日出美景，而此時(shí)一群野狗在四處吠叫。然而，我尤其喜歡在日落時(shí)分練瑜伽。凱茜對(duì)此頗有微詞，但我卻很喜歡教練里貝卡(Rebecca)的所謂野蠻存在主義(existentialism，強(qiáng)調(diào)個(gè)人、獨(dú)立自主和主觀經(jīng)驗(yàn))。她的瑜伽課并非穿完美混搭的Sweaty Betty運(yùn)動(dòng)裝。“人都是孤零零來(lái)到世界，”看到太陽(yáng)慢慢消失在海平面下、并開(kāi)始聽(tīng)到野狗的吠叫聲，她這樣說(shuō)道，“也都是孤零零離開(kāi)人世。”

Well, yes. But before then, there’s sea and surf and Moroccan red wine. Are there many people like us, I ask Ollie. The mid-life surfers? “Tonnes. At least half the people who come are trying it for the first time.” First time, but certainly not the last.

沒(méi)錯(cuò)。但離世之前，自己卻大可欣賞海景、享受沖浪以及盡情享用摩洛哥紅酒。我問(wèn)奧利：我們這樣人到中年的沖浪者是否有很多?“數(shù)不勝數(shù)。來(lái)這里旅游的人至少有一半都是平生第一次玩沖浪。”首次玩沖浪，但肯定不會(huì)是最后一次。

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Carole Cadwalladr was a guest of Surf Maroc, which offers a week’s accommodation at the Amouage in an ocean view room from £574, including surf guiding, transfers from Agadir airport, breakfast, yoga sessions and packed lunches.

卡洛爾•卡德瓦拉德是Surf Maroc旅行社游客。Amouage酒店海景房一周最低費(fèi)用574英鎊，其中包括了教習(xí)沖浪、阿加迪爾機(jī)場(chǎng)接送、早餐、瑜伽課以及提供盒飯。