Holy santa claus shit that was fun. A week of epic waves for 8 hours a day in 27 degree water and nary an unaffiliated soul in sight. Sumatra. Was. SICK!

I was with dad and seven of his mates, a fun bunch of gents ranging between 35 and 45 years older than me. As one might assume, I happily sat inside the whole time as they scratched wide for the horizon, allowing me to positively feast

That set-up feeling (...pleasedon'tbog,pleasedon'tbog,pleasedon'tbog)

Here’s a few other things I did for the first time:

  • paddle boarded with a dog
  • talked tipsy baz into a dodgy rickshaw instead of a cab
  • bodysurfed over 200m
  • drank beer within 3 seconds of exiting the ocean

Nothing makes me thankful for my life quite like travel. Fuck me do the majority of Sumatrans do it really tough, yet somehow remain thankful for what they have! And there I was, strange white man playing games in the water with shiny toys and fancy clothes. A true rendering of Lucky Roland and in sharper relief than even I am used to.  

I reckon this kid's had more real-world experience than his Sydney equivalents  

Traveling with the old boy was great. Back in the day he used to rip so fearlessly, but of late has alas devoted much of his limited free time to his golf clubs. I daresay it verges on more than strictly appropriate for any surfer, though it is a hobby he shares with mum, so to be preferenced occasionally I suppose. Anyway it was cool to see him surf binge and get a few fucken sick waves. 

Plenty of opportunity for double-shakka shoulder salutes

Another wicked bonus was to come away with some good snaps in front of the lens instead of my usual position behind it. It was the first comprehensive visual feedback I’ve ever received and it’s rad to be able to relive a couple of good sections. 

Rainy and grainy

And how good was coming home! 

Walking through the airport today (/yesterday? I’ve sortof had a 36 hour day) I felt bad for the working boys - hell even the retired ones - who appeared dismal to head home to regular life after such success away. I, on the other hand, was shamelessly grinning about the next beach holiday, the usual one I’ve been enjoying this year tootling around in my van. (Not to mention the next next one, 6 weeks in Patagonia in January!). 

Sure enough Boz was a sight for sore eyes and I had a leisurely day of unpacking, surfing over some welcome sand and organising myself. I’ve got a tonne of photos to cast my eye over which I shall surely be compelled to intermittently spam Insty with for the next little while. 

Apologies if it’s all too hard to consider after a week at the desk, but whoever you are, just make sure there is an adventure of your own on the near horizon! #lifeisaholiday