Bali - Yes I play surf.

Welcomed by hot air, people yelling and waving signs in my face, I realised that yep I am, once again, back in Asia. Scanning the long string of people, I finally find my name held by a younger looking local fella. Thank god this whole thing isn't some kind of scam, I think to myself. I follow the boy to the van and as we are trying to fit my surfboard in the back, he suddenly asks: "Where is your man? Why are you alone?" Great. Given recent events in my life, this is possibly the worst thing to say to me. Well, I actually booked this trip while being in a relationship, but I often choose to travel by myself because it gives me the feeling of self-actualisation. Not wanting to get into any of this, I shrug and say: "Dunno, because it's fun". An hour later we arrive in Canggu.

the Chillhouse

Back in April, I realised to my sheer delight that I would only have one final exam giving me the study week off. I wouldn't need a whole week to study after all! A window of opportunity presented itself to realise a dream: surf travelling. Having absolutely no experience in this travel segment, I booked my trip through an Australian surf travel company called the Perfect Wave (highly recommended btw). Browsing through their options, I decided Bali it is. I chose the Chillhouse because a) the name sounded awesome and b) it wasn't in Kuta. The Chillhouse was founded in 2004 by an Austrian couple who moved to Bali to realise their dream of surfing every day and having a source of income to support that dream. Being used to dodgy bungalows, no electricity and bugs everywhere, I was pleasantly surprised by the Chillhouse. Like their tagline indicates, "more than just a surf camp", it was like a little surf oasis fully equipped with a pool, friendly staff, outdoor dining room, free wifi and your own suite with an outdoor bathroom containing an iPod dock. And yes everything was matched to Austrian quality standards.

my outdoor bathroom

That evening I join the rest of the guests for dinner and realise to my initial horror that everyone else at the tables are German speaking couples! I find another single at one of the tables and take a seat next to him. He is an Aussie from Margaret River who turns out to be an awesome surfer. To my amusement, he thinks I am Aussie as well. After two years, have I finally gotten rid of that American accent? Rick fills me in on the ropes. Every evening your name is written on the blackboard indicating who your surf guide is, what time you go out, where and which group you are in. I do not find my name on the blackboard, but was told by one of the staff to be ready by 7:30 am. After dinner at about 8:30 pm people start heading off to their rooms. A friendly Dutchman/German joins our table and the three of us decide to go down to Echo beach (like the one in Cali) for a few drinks. It is, after all, my first night. And off on the back of a scooter I go!

the blackboard

The next morning, I am all geared up and ready at the breakfast table. A smiling local approaches me, "Do you play surf?" I tell him that yes I indeed play surf and that is the reason that I am here. He introduces himself as Yus and that he will be my surf guide during my stay. He wants to give me a softboard and put me into white wash with the beginners. I raise an eyebrow. Ok, I guess a blond girl from Finland/Australia would not usually be your average surfer, but I brought my own board from Sydney and have most definitely moved passed the white wash stage. After some forceful negotiating on my part, I am sitting in the van with the beginners on my way to catch small green waves equipped with my 6"10 fish attached to the roof racks. I meet some of the other guests and they all seem to be very friendly. That day I do two 2hr surf sessions and collapse into bed with a soar back and arms like jelly. Thank heavens for the three free in-house massages that are included in the package!

A Finn, a German and a Swiss (all big surfing nationalities btw)

The week progresses along with the daily schedule being: breakfast, surf, lunch, surf, bike ride to Echo beach, dinner and sleep. I was put in the intermediate group on the second day. The group changed somewhat during my stay due to people staying and going. In the end, however, I mostly surfed with the rowdy Aussie, the Dutch doctor and the polite Englishman. All perfect stereotypes of their countries. They had all surfed longer than me, so I was secretly happy to be in this group.

the crew (Yus in blue, Dutchman in black, Englishman and Aussie on the left)

Initially intimidated by having less experience than the guys, I quickly realised everyone had their deficiencies. Mine was looking down at the wave when I thought it was huge, which ruined my balance, and snowboarding instead of surfing. By the end of the week, we were catching pretty big waves. Even though, Yus and I might have started off on the wrong foot with him thinking that I'm rubbish, we ended making a pretty good team. Basically, the purpose of the surf guide depended on your skill level. Before paddling out, my guide would talk me through how the beach was set up with the channels, peak and landmarks. In the water he would give me tips on how to position myself, which waves to catch and how to improve my technique. We also had secret code language to aid our communication. For instance, when a huge wave was approaching, Yus would yell out "Big Mama!", which was my cue to paddle out as fast as possible to avoid getting crushed on the ocean floor by the monster wave. Sometimes the cocky Dutchman would sit right beside me and steal my wave when he thought I wasn't going to get it. Thankfully, I had a back-up plan in the form of Yus, who would discretely push my foot, so that I would swiftly glide past the Dutchman and be up before him giving me the priority.

gliding past the Dutchman

The beauty of Chillhouse is that it really caters to all. You don't have to be a surfer to stay there because they also offer other activities such as day trips, yoga, the gym, massages and treatments. This is the reason behind the large amount of couples. The average age was also in the thirties with me being one of the youngest. Huge swell was promised for the weekend, so by Friday night I was anxious to go out and experience the nightlife. I had met another single girl from Austria called Katrin. To her horror, I materialised two scooters and two drivers to take us to Kuta that night. My inner-student wanted to save a few bucks on cab fare and I thought a scooter drive through the bustling town of Kuta would be kind of exciting. We arrived straight in front of the memorial for the Bali bombings, which freaked me out. Kuta was exactly what I anticipated. Lots of people, alcohol, tackiness and Aussies wearing Bintang (local beer) singlets. Regardless, we have a ball and get back in the crack of dawn.

nighttime 

Surfing is off on Sunday as well, so we decide to hit Semanyak on Saturday night. This time Katrin insists we take a cab. The beach is dotted with high-end resorts and restaurants, but absolutely no people.  We decide to walk to town. I am feeling quite dehydrated after the 30 minute walk, so we somehow end up at some kind of gay/transvestite district. It is quite funny to watch the drag queens belt out Tina Turner and the works. By the time the gay stripper gets on stage, we decide to change location. We end up back at the beach at a high-end bar called Cocoon that is filled with rich Jakartans, some westerners and the local girls trying to get it on with the westerners. I end up meeting a long string of interesting people and the hours fly by. I finally rock up at Chillhouse around 7 am. I shamefully walk past the judging eyes of the couples that are having breakfast with the angry taxi man at my heels. He wants more money. Exhausted and not finding my money stash, I just enter my room and close the door behind me. The next morning I wake up late. Luckily, my Californian contact is online so I take advantage of the free wifi and skype with him. He talks me through the worst part of my hangover and sleep deprivation and I spend the day sun baking by the pool. As fun as it was, I was glad the following day would be dedicated to surfing and waking up at five. The party was over.

Rasta and his naked lady

Back in business on Monday, we head out surfing. The camera man accompanies us and I have one of my best sessions yet. I find my skills have improved after the week before and I am starting to build my confidence. Monday is followed by another couple of good sessions on Tuesday, but Wednesday beats all. I had planned to finally go out sight seeing to Ubud on my last day. However, Yus had other plans. We were taken to Tanah Lot, where there was a nice break between two temples. It looked extremely rocky and huge. There was also a big audience of tourists on the cliffs. You could tell everyone was a little iffy about going out. Since the beach was so rocky, you had to jump off one of the cliffs and quickly paddle out to the break to avoid being crushed into the rocks. We waited about 45 minutes for the tide and I was getting more anxious by the minute. Did Yus really know what he was doing? The Aussie went first and seemed to do ok, so I jumped in next. My feet actually hit the bottom and it was rocky. Once I got back onto the surface, I paddled for my life. However, once you got out there in between the temples, it was just beautiful. I was almost just content sitting there admiring the view. But views were not what we came there for. The waves were really quick and I was having trouble with them. My frustration grew as more people started showing up and blocking the line. Having just some small rides, I decided this is it. The Aussie and Englishman were already back at the beach. I went for my last wave in Bali and rode it nicely past all of the rocks, all of the tourists, all the way to the beach. A nice ending to the Bali trip.

Tanah Lot