As we sip on our rum Damien starts to give me details on the place. The owner is a 25 year young dude from switzerland, marine biologist, who decided to cut down on the traveling time to his favourite surf spot and just open a resort here.
As we're talking about him, he arrives. He's giggling as he walks.
"I bailed" he says, as he shows us his surf board. Some of his hair is stuck in the board.
"I feel drunk, hi!"
"You should put some ice on your head"
"Hahahaha ice yes! Good idea! Hhahhahaha!"
We go for a swim in the sea, which is a 2 minute walk from our "resort" (which consists of 2 houses with 4 rooms, an open terasse that serves as bar/restaurant/gathering spot, and the owner's house, still in construction).
Amidst homeless dogs and pet coqs, we walk to the beach. White sand with a different kind of texture, since its made from residue of chorrals. There are no waves.
The waves are a few hundred meters away, broken by a big chorral barrier that rises from the sea. You have to paddle all the way there with your surfboard. I feel nervous about my first try, tomorow.
The salty water makes my tattoos look as good as the day I got them.
Walking back to our room Damien explains that tonight there is a party, it's the owner's birthday, and so I should try to take a nap so I don't crash too early.
I happily oblige.
He comes and tries to wake me up several times so I don't oversleep.
I finally capitulate 4 hours into my nap, at 7 pm.
A lot of people are grouped in the terasse. Surfers, chiseled and cut like superheros, and suddenly I'm ashamed of my beer belly. Also, locals are chatting and laughing loudly.
Pasta is served, as well as fish, pork, and rice. And rum, beer.
I sit at the travelers table. There's Damien, my good friend from Montréal, who moved to Vancouver 2 years ago.
Also Jim, his friend from Vancouver who is here for a week, he is chinese (here when you don't remember someone's name you call them by their nationality or ethnicity).
There is also a german man, as built as a bodybuilder, but it's natural muscles from surfing 7 hours a day.
A couple of Austrians are here. The dude talks to me about the coq fight he saw. They boost them with steroids, he says. His girlfriend is alluring. Tall, lean blonde girl with a beautiful face and a body that would make women cry. She doesn't talk much but laughs at all of his jokes.
Then comes Hailey. Classic surfer chick from Australia. She's very friendly, and we talk about her homeland a bit... She says I could find work there after asia, which I am beginning to consider. All the guys here say she's the best surfer, and it embarasses her.
There's also Kevin, who everyone calls Bing. Long blond hair, laidback. He's from Boston. Everyone wants to talk sports with him.
A frenchman comes to sit with us. He mist be in his 40s. Traveling the world, surfing.
I don't know what it is about surfing, but it literally changes peoples' lives. I can't wait to try it, but I am a little worried what it might do to me.
It's somewhat the rainy season here. Big drops of rain come without notice, and leave as abruptly. People still go surf.
I capitulate at around 11, not my style at all, but the jetlag has the better of me.
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