It’s such a great feeling. You wake up so early that it almost hurts (or literally hurts if you went kitesurfing/kite-struggling the day before) and you start your day in the complete darkness before sunrise. At a certain point you start to wonder what the fascination is about, but if you really think about it, you will know. Especially if you ever went before.
You get your gear, you prepare mentally (in my case, this is a point of weird ekstase) and then the cold hits you. For me, it always brings a slight shiver and then I adjust. I keep pretending it’s my viking-blood, but really it is probably just me dealing really well with cold salt water – or salt water in general.
Now after this, non of these prior feelings really matter. The sun breaks through with the first light of day, the boat starts moving and if you are really, really lucky there is not a single breath of wind. You can hear the waves breaking in the distance and at this point there is just you (and the rest of the people on the boat, but for this description they are not that important), the sunrise and the anticipation of the surf.
Because it is – of course – surfing that I am talking about. Wave surfing. The classic form of surfing, one might say. It has an art to it that I can not yet fully understand and it is such a breathtaking (also quite literally) interaction with nature. I feel ever so blessed to be able to – to a certain extend – have a small taste of what this fascination is all about and I have fallen completely in love with it.
The combination of complete exhaustion and undisturbed tranquility right before tons of water hits you in the face, only to ones in a while catch a perfect wave and ride and ride and ride until all the other faceplants have been forgotten. There is really nothing like it and I do not know how else to discribe it.
Thank you, for teaching me, for bringing me and for keeping me fascinated.
Lots of love