I’m back in the office after a week in Morocco.

I was in Tagazout for Ingo’s wedding to Louise. It was a great do, the happy couple tying the knot on the rocks at La Source. It was also a great opportunity to catch up with some crew, including some of the Plymouth old school like Copley and Stevie D, who was ripping. Slammin Sam Lamiroy was there too, shreddin on some new Firewires. The best man, Jonesy, did well to mention the words ‘pubes’, ‘drugs’, ‘prossies’ in his speech and got a good couple of swear words in his broad Bristol accent which drew either total silence or raucous eruptions, depending on the table.

We did see a guy getting stoned in Morocco. What I mean is, five guys were chasing another guy along the cliffs and throwing stones at him. After a long and drawn out chase through the undergrowth and alot of rocks thrown, at one point the men all got down to pray for a while before resuming hostilities. A few people had upset tummies at the wedding. In fact, as I was about to go inside the bride and groom’s apartment to grab my board on tuesday morning what I thought would be a routine guff turned into something else altogether, and I looked down to see organic matter dripping down the back of both of my calves. Not that many people were impressed other than my godson Louie, who’s 3. He loved it.

In other news someone proposed marriage to me today, via email.

Being the 29th of Feb in a leap year, it’s the lucky day for women to propose to men. I haven’t actually seen her for seven years and can’t really remember what she looks like, so I’m going to have to think about it.