Horses’ manes whip against flushed faces as our gang of riders careens along the shoreline of a beach in Diabat, a small village on Morocco’s Atlantic Coast. The rhythmic thud and squelch of hooves on sand merges in a wild symphony with the crashing waves and blustery trade winds.
The weathered ruins of Dar Sultan Palace, locally known as Jimi Hendrix Castle, rise from the dunes alongside. Across a lagoon, kite surfers skim the breakers. In the foreground, camels sit, legs folded, patiently awaiting passengers. In the distance, the walled, whitewashed town of Essaouira glimmers.
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