Oops, I did it again



Well worth the walk over

 I went surfing again today. I’ve been spending the past day or so at the nearby Salinas surfing lodge Magnific Rock, having arrived mostly to experience its famous magnific views. The lodge sits perched on a cliff 20 meters above the sea and is easy to spot from Popoyo beach. The “happy hour” sunsets are supposed to be incredible.

Or course most everyone that is here has come here to surf and soon I find myself discussing swells, wave heights, and tide situations. Or rather, listening attentively. My new physically perfectly blond surfer friend/roommate Alynne from Vancouver Island is generous with her knowledge and before I know it, I am actually considering joining her in the water down below. In the morning, we review surfing do’s and don’ts and a few other surfers at the lodge chime in with more helpful advice.

A big part of me doesn’t want to do this, but I decide I should listen to the (very) small part of me that does. Anyway, the waves really don’t look too bad from the lodge.

When we reach the beach below, however, I change my mind. The waves seem exponentially bigger from this vantage point, the white wash ominously ponderous, and the undertow way stronger than me. Alynne has paddled out some 20 minutes ago to join the experienced surfers on the horizon and I stand, then sit, frozen on shore. But then a woman I recognize from Gabriela’s yoga class and her friend wave me over. They are beginners too. In their company I find the courage to go in.

And even though I know I will never ever be good at this, this is why I feel so exhilarated when I come out:

• Because there is nothing like looking heart palpatating fear in the face and realizing that’s all it is, just fear. 
• Because finding and exploring your edge may reveal the juiciest parts of life
• Because experiencing something new is a way to collect chapters for the book that is your life
• Because taking a long shower after having been pummeled by salty, powerful waves is one way to experience bliss
• Because what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger



Enjoying the views with Muhammed

Hard to talk about this stuff without collapsing into clichés. Interestingly, all the things I love about my attempts to surf so far are all the reasons I also love to travel. I love how it scares, tests, exhilarates and ultimately, hopefully makes me stronger, better, wiser. The way it enables me to access and honor parts of myself I rarely get to see when I am safe at home, in an altogether different mode of being. Not better or worse, just different.

Fer sure, surfing is not my calling in life - I am still trying to figure out what that is. But I do think the moments of fear, hilarity and saltiness that it affords will make great fodder for my book.  

Gone surfing (no, really)

I can now with a clear conscience leave Nicaragua: I’ve finally surfed.

Surfing, like volcanoes, is synonymous with Nicaragua among the well traveled. That I’ve been living near one of its most famous beaches these past few weeks and not yet touched a surfboard might be what some people (= surfers) call blasphemous.

The last time I surfed was in Sayulita, Mexico for my 35th birthday. I remember loving the thrill of paddling fast enough to “catch a wave” and lo and behold popping up to ride it in an upright position. This last part happened for me very rarely - ok, twice - despite having my own personal, world-class surfing coach with me there in the water giving me exact directions. I hardly call what I did surfing but I had a great time anyway.

Still, giving it another shot seemed like the right thing to do or at least simulating the experience of having tried. So when Natalie and her friend Sorab decided to go surfing today I decided I would tag along. They are experienced, hard core surfers and Sorab knew of a pointbreak in the nearby fishing village of Astillero he thought she might like. I myself was primarily happy for the chance to see another part of the Tola coastline and the possibly of fresh fish for lunch.

The biggest catch was the ½ hour walk from the beach to the pointbreak and Sorab was right to warn me I would have to carry my board. This, in fact, might be my biggest accomplishment of the day. The thing about surfing is the more inexperienced you are, the bigger the board. Basically, the surfboard transmogrifies into a raft. Which makes good decent sense. Still, when we went to retrieve the surfboards from the back of Sorab’s truck I innocently (conveniently?) forgot this fact and asked Natalie if the smallest one was mine. “No,” she said. Right.

The walk was really not so long and the board really not so heavy but I did straggle behind Natalie and Sorab most of the way feeling like I was in a comedy show of my own making, and kind of laughing out loud to myself about it as the sun beat down upon us. When we arrived, they went off surfing and caught about 500 waves and I mostly boogey boarded in knee deep whitewash off to the side, trying to avoid stingrays. Then I did some yoga on the beach. By the time, Natalie and Sorab came back about an hour later we were all sun-fried, salty and ready for a big lunch.



Natalie and Tona

Lunch was the biggest, freshest, deepest fried, garlic covered red snapper I have ever had. And two Tona’s, the Nicaraguan beer.

I love the ocean.

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P.S. Here are some pictures of my great day, complete with red snapper.