We did this a number of times while she and her family were here in Carmel. Some days the waves were so big, it was hard to keep up. I’d like to say we became somewhat professional body surfers in those two weeks. Though… not really. Accompanying us in the water was a plentiful bunch of kelp that I kept trying to gift to Indi, but she rudely refused each of my offers. Anyway, we’d always end our body surfing expeditions by riding one last good wave and then we’d make our way back up to the house to take hot showers and to reheat ourselves. And no matter how hard I tried, I still found sand hiding away somewhere on my body the next day.

My cousin, Indi catching a wave!

Cute picture of us sightseeing on 17 mile drive!

Politically not correct picture of us drinking coffee and smoking bubble gum cigarettes

Somehow we were able to have the privilege of surfing with the Green School’s surf program and be a part of their extracurricular program. That meant going to a specific beach every Saturday and meeting with the school’s surf instructors who would lead us into the water and surf with us. Then after the month was up, there would be a three night surf camp where all the kids who did surfing throughout the year would attend. We would also get to go. It would also be the chance where we could actually get to know and hangout with the students. Wescott would be going with the high school group on separate days and Otto and I would be going with the middle school group a week later. Since Saturday was the weekend, nobody was technically required to go to the weekend surf sessions, so for the first month in Bali, we didn’t see a lot of other students in the Green School Surfing Academy, but we would soon be immersed.

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7:30 am. The mornings of the surf week were always quiet, peaceful even. After breakfast everyone would go down to the beach and surf nonstop till noon. In total, there were 25 kids as well as multiple surf instructors, a few chaperoning dads, and Colin, who was in charge of the whole surf academy, in the water at once. We spent the week at a beach called Medewi in the western part of Bali where fishing boats lined half of the shore and dead fish was as common as sand. Once our arms started resembling that of a noodle, and only then, we’d all head in for lunch. A couple hours later, there would be an afternoon surf.

“Here’s the competition: there are two boards and two teams. One at a time, each person from both teams will go out and catch a wave. You’ll be scored individually by how well you surf that wave, but if you decide to catch and ride a whitewater wave you automatically get a 2. If you fall off, that counts. You don’t get to keep trying for another shot at a wave. So pick good. Then at the end we’ll add up all the scores and the team with the most points wins. And the first team to finish, where all their people have gone out and come back, gets an additional 10 points added and the second team only 5. So, you’ll have to think about performance as well as speed.”

We were sitting on the beach in a half circle around Colin while he was explaining the afternoon’s game. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at all nervous. It was just for fun, but still, I couldn’t help the butterflies surfacing inside me. I’m confident enough in my surfing ability yet when you add the pressure of catching a good wave, riding well, and doing it somewhat fast, then I had no idea how I would hold up in that situation. Not to mention that the board was as tall as me, give or take a few inches, and I’m like five-foot-nothing! I’ve never ridden a short board before so this would be very interesting. We were soon divided into groups and the first two people began to paddle out. When it came to my turn, I decided to just go out the back like I normally would and catch a wave. Unfortunately, none of the waves were looking that good, and when a good one did show up,  I was too late because the person from the other team was already riding it back. I was alone… For now.  I needed to catch a wave, but time wasn’t on my side.  Heading back in, I managed to snag some whitewater, barely getting up. Definitely not one of my best rides. Though thankfully, unlike some kids back on Mercer Island where to them gym equals the equivalent of the Olympics, nobody seemed too upset by my lackluster performance.

7:00 pm. Dinner was finished and by now night was fully upon us. I was rooming with two other girls―really five if you take into account the fact that it was an adjoining room and we had opened the door to allow easy passage. Sprawled across three of the beds in one of the rooms, I watched passively as all the girls took out their iPhones and I was reintroduced to the digital world. I had forgotten what this was like―what I myself was like―to be in the same room hanging out with someone while simultaneously not being there at all.

“Do you have Facebook?” One girl had put on music and was blasting a rap song.

“No,” I casually answered.

Another girl was texting with a boy, saying something about liking him and stressing about how to reply back to each incoming message.

“Mmm,” and the girl talking to me went back to her Snapchat.

A different girl then asked, “you have a phone?”

“Yeah, but I left it at home. I didn’t bring it on my trip.”

“Oh okay,” and next to her the ‘mmm’ girl looked up; laughed saying, “I could never do that,” which got the other girl laughing too.

7:30 am. The next day led primarily the same path as the last, but later there would be no afternoon surf. We would then be leaving the following morning.  So with the rest of the day  free, we decided to go for a swim in the pool, accompanying those already in who had the same idea. About an hour later, I had to get out because one of my ears became so clogged with water that I couldn’t hear anything. I spent the next thirty minutes trying unsuccessfully to get the water out when everybody started coming back in. While they showered and changed, I filled the time by sitting on my bed with a water bottle in hand, voraciously gulping down the awkwardness of not knowing what to do with people you just met with each single drop. I probably drank the most water in that couple of days than I had in the whole year. But, soon we all settled down and played a few games of BS and listened to music until we noticed it was time for dinner.

11:00 am. We arrived late morning at the Green School, where Mom was waiting eagerly for us with kombucha and raw peanut butter cups. I waved goodbye to a few of the girls and then we simply drove back to Ubud, passing the now familiar rice paddies.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” Otto and I replied, almost in unison.

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While my surfing wasn’t stellar, and the waves weren’t perfect, I realized that what I will remember most is that you can be halfway around the world and find a group of friends that make you feel like you are right at home.

Wescott, Yve and I, as you know, are surfers. On this trip, we’ve been fortunate enough to surf in Greece, Spain, Portugal, Morocco, Zanzibar (kite surfing), and now in Bali.

My mom and dad were thoroughly reading the Green School’s website when they were fantasizing a scenario of us going there for school. During their research, they stumbled upon an extra curricular activity that the Green School offers for their students…surfing. Dad contacted the mastermind behind the surfing academy, an Australian named Colin,  and told him we were interested in mooching off of there surf school…of course we didn’t put it that way  Colin sent a message back and said he was happy to guide us on the road of wave riding on the island, so we dove right in three days after we arrived in Bali.

Yve, Wescott and I with our Green School surf instructor at Serangan Beach.

When you surf in Oregon the water is pretty much freezing year-round, but Bali is the opposite. Board shorts, a rash guard and a surf board is all you need to shred the gnar.

Yve and I heading out for a lesson!

Picking a location is a great starting point, but believe it or not, writing a blog post actually requires a slightly less equivocal topic. As I scroll through my family’s past Portugal blog posts, it would seem that you, as the reader, may have not yet gotten a true taste of the flavorful Portuguese lifestyle. Well, open wide my fellow country connoisseurs, because here comes the main course of information (topped off with loads more enriching metaphors.) I am going to briefly take you through a day in the life of, what used to be, Portuguese Wescott.

8:30am – Wake up and shower

If you haven’t already seen “A tor of our apartmint in Pochecol” by audacious author, Tuck, then I am here to tell you that the bathrooms were awesome!

Usually, every new shower that I seem to encounter, turning on the hot water is like tampering with alien technology, you turn random nozzles, press alluring buttons, and, occasionally, you get burned. However, not in this bathroom. The shower was very straight forward and, for once, I got that satisfaction of getting that perfect balance between hot and cold on the first try. It felt good.

9:00am – Do the daily rounds for groceries with Yve

Our “conveniently” placed apartment resided a  several blocks away from the nearest fruit stand, but on the flip side, if you were in the market for hash or cocaine, either one could be found right outside the front door.  I have to say, the American version of grocery shopping is pretty lame, when compared to the European strategy: wake up and buy warm, freshly baked rolls from the baker, thinly sliced salami from the butcher, and ripe fruit from the fruit people. I don’t recall much about the actual walks, besides the marvelous, marble, cobblestone streets, Yve and I stopping to gape at a quaint little art supplies store, and a gregarious, drunk, homeless man making my day when he leaned over us and bellowed, “Get the **** out of my office.” Good times.

We also stopped for fresh squeezed carrot and ginger juice every morning

10:00am – Eat breakfast

Gathering groceries may have been a long and toilsome task, but eating all of those fresh, whole foods every morning made the journey very much worthwhile. Even though I could go on and on about breakfast, I doubt anyone wants to read another superfluous paragraph about food, so, what would be a long story short: oatmeal, fruit, juice, toast, and that’s it.

11:00am – Get in the Van and Drive to Ericeira

The twenty minute drive from our awesome apartment to the beautiful beach was nothing when compared to the drive from Marrakech to the Sahara Desert. See…if I hadn’t procrastinated on writing this, we would never have been able to enjoy that great comparison. Morocco’s two-day tour of twisty, rugged, life-threatening, cliff side roads has every drive I have ever taken, and probably ever will, beat, bar none. However, I have learned to treat long car rides as good things, because that mentality alone makes them slightly less excruciating. In reality, they aren’t all that bad; they give you time to think, and, most importantly, time to observe, soak it all in, make memories. I like to think that this trip is like one big car ride, because while my parents do  all of the planning and driving, I can sit back, relax, and enjoy the scenery.

Around 12:00pm – We would enjoy a hasty lunch wherever we could.

Beachfront lunch spot

1:00pm to 4:00pm – Surfs up!

Surfing is always a blast, and if I were to craft a metaphor off of that predicate, Portugal is the atom bomb. “Ready to go?” Our guide excitedly asked in his extrinsic Portuguese accent, which, for those of you who don’t know, sounds a little bit like Dr. Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb. Like agile penguins, we plopped into the water one by one, gliding above exotic coral and rock formations. Although, paddling out in a synchronized diamond formation made me feel pretty cool, the real fun began when we started catching waves. Ride after ride, a steady stream of adrenaline would fuel my system and force me to keep coming back for more. I had a couple of close encounters, when the waves spat me out on top of the sharp, shallow reef, but that just made everything all the more interesting! In the midst of a perfect moment, when the golden sun struck the horizon and turned the whole sky red (also known as the sunset,) just bobbing up and down with the waves, I reflected on life in Portugal and quickly came to the conclusion: I have to come back here someday and enjoy this day all over again.

At our favorite board shop, Board Culture

Zanzibar Kite Center… one of our home away from homes for the past 3 weeks

We fell into the hands of Kite Centre Zanzibar, which was recommended for lessons by our house owner, Mathew. Me, My Dad, Wescott, Yve, and Pop Pop all took lessons. Pop Pop bailed after two lessons because his hip was bothering him, my dad did three, Yve and I four, and Wescott five. Wescott is the best out of everyone, and can now rent on his own.

Me getting up on the board

Yve having a great run!

The kite center has a three day (9 hours) beginners path that you follow and then you can go onto advanced lessons and start renting. After the third lesson I had a face plant down. My fourth was when I made the most progress and by the end, I could ride one way pretty good but the other needed some work. Yve and Dad also got up on the board and had a little ride, and we all agree that we want to continue with this sport!

Wescott getting ready for a run

It was a run for our money but it was all very worth it to have an activity to do on this island of zen.

The students with awesome instructors Scott and Jeff

This beach has it all! Cows wandering between the kiters!

Well, this is what one deserves for thinking that a bit of windsurfing ability translates to the sport of kite boarding in Zanzibar. True, one might of gotten a whiff of reality prior to plunking down the euros when all the instructors were Nordic Gods.  No matter, a few gallons of seawater later, I could see that this is one of those great ideas better left to the grandchildren.

My man Chris and I after the last beating on the water

Perfect weather, shallow crystal water, great wind abounds. Like a sky full of colorful butterflies, kites filled the sky. The flattened pancake on the beach was me.

Notice the camels in the background!!

Learning a totally new technique with Rachid… Tony would be mortified :-)

Wescott riding the waves

Otto and Yve riding tandem waves

Wescott, Otto and Yve were joined by Victor from the Netherlands, and instructor Rachid

Meanwhile, Lisa, Tuck, Jones and I kept very busy with our camel buddies Cappuccino and Chocolate!

Rachid torturing Tuck

We also found out that the world record was set for the worlds largest wave ever surfed one month ago, and it was on the Portugal coast. Here’s an awesome video of it!

We made our way out and right away Wescott got up and got an awesome ride, but Yve and I were a little shaky, though we had our moments!

How awesome would it be to go from work to surfing right outside of the city!

Advertising our sponsors in Oregon!

Me shredding some gnar. Wescott catching a gnarly pounder.

Stay tuned for surfing Portugal!

Then we went to the bank which the guy who rented us the boards told us to deposit the money in his account. A couple side stops here and there to cool off our cars’ radiator and we were home free; nothing in our way from catching those waves!

Dad putting water in the radiator to cool it off… just another thing to add to the craziness!

When we arrived at Falassarna beach 4 hours later we all began to rejuvenate and come back to life when we saw the swell. It was a ravishing day and the waves were sublime. Though we hadn’t surfed in about 2 months, we were all eager to get out into the water. Wescott and Otto were able to get a couple sweet rides and well, as for me, today wasn’t precisely in my favor. Not as adroit, I barely got up. It was quite disparaging, but I wasn’t going to go home saying I’ve only sat on a surfboard in Crete. I wanted to surf and that’s what we came to do so holding on to that staunch thought, we went back out.

Otto catching that big wave

Wescott surfing Crete!

The second time around I victoriously managed—if only for a few seconds—to snag a ride or two! The day was complete; beginning with a crazy trip to the laundromat and ending in another breathtakingly resplendent sunset. We can now say we’ve surfed Crete!

There’s me!

Killer sunset to end off the day