Four months after graduation, I am finally finished unpacking from college! Woo! It took me a while because during those brief times living at home between several jaunts of awesome post-grad travelling, I wanted to go through my junk thoroughly, organising and donating what I no longer needed. When I found my 2016 calendar, I realised it has been a year since I posted anything here. Oops! Let me continue…
My first experience surfing occurred years ago in a bay on the coast of Costa Rica. Those baby waves were a pleasant introduction to the sport, and I was hooked. So of course one of my goals to accomplish in Australia was to advance my surfing skills. I was thrilled when several friends from UNSW Hall were interested in signing up for a surf weekend with a camp. Without further ado, on a Friday afternoon we found ourselves being herded from the Sydney YHA onto a coach bus that would deliver us to camp!
Camp was majorly reminiscent of summer camp, with picnic tables and eating in shifts and reminders to slop on sun cream. When we campers were asked to split into groups of 7 for cabin sleeping, our group of 6 expected to welcome a loner into our circle of friendship, but instead we were lead secretly past the camp cabins. Our destination: UPGRADE! Oh yeah we got a fancy shmancy cabin with AIR CON! After a few games in the common area, a few of us strolled with some new friends to the only establishment nearby. Picture a yacht club wedding reception area with a bar and dance floor. Now picture us playing limbo on said dance floor.
Bright and early, we got in line for brekkie, quickly wetsuited up, and bustled off to the beach. While tides change everyday, the wind is also an important consideration in surfing, and happens to often be ideal early in the morning.
1! 2! 3! Nipples! Press-up! Chicken wing! Kick! Am I yelling random words? No! That was the sequence of actions involved in standing up on a surfboard. The instructors were fantastic and the majority of us campers were up and feeling awesome in no time. Two hours later, my arms hung, dead weights at my sides, and I was grateful when it was time for a break. Surfing was exhausting.
The most memorable thing about the food was my inability to identify most of it. However, surfing made us so hungry that we joyously welcomed any type of calories into our ravenous tummies. We needed fuel for the next session. During break, we mustered our energy because at the camp playground, there was a rainbow bouncy rectangle. It was huge. We flipped. We bounced. I was elated. Bouncing brings me joy.
Although our skills may have improved, surfing got progressively harder due to soreness and less favourable tides. By the end of the weekend, we were drained yet triumphant, eager to try our new surfer dude skills on our own…but maybe after a week or so off. We did have classes to go to.