Sitting in the hotel foyer waiting for the bus. Went up to the station this morning, could maybe have gone out, but very light winds and so I kept the kit dry! Then a stroll back which took longer than we thought, it always does, a shower, and here we are. Oh yes, had to pop back to the local Mistral place to get our loyalty cards stamped - 40 stamps in 3 years and you get a week free or something.
Ended up at the Calema again last night - multiple caipirinhas consumed, long chats about what was probably total bollocks, but it felt good. We ate at Zum Fischermann, which it's a shame we hadn't found earlier. The German owner often catches the fish himself, since his brother runs a tourist fishing boat - yesterday there were no tourists, so they went alone! Huge fillet platter, not sure what it all was but really tasty. Left Calema on my own at 2, got back about 2.30, giggling all the way - Adam had gone an hour before. No obvious side-effects this morning, maybe these are the perfect cocktail! I did drink a lot of water this morning though.
And now I'm feeling cross it's not going to be holiday any more. Damn. It's not easy to get the "living in the present" versus "looking to the future" balance right. And it's the bus shortly, so time to close! Byeeeeeee...
Monday, 9 March 2009
Sunday, 8 March 2009
The Last Day
Well it is really, isn't it? I mean, we're here tomorrow, but the likelihood of windsurfing is small, like the wind forecast.
At least I got out today, on a medium board and a big sail, and planed around a bit, falling off a lot in my execrable gybes. I think I'll be practising a lot on the lawn at some point, because it's the details of hand and foot movements that are making me pause and look in the wrong places at the wrong time. And standing up! The Cribby technique of using the under-grip on the new mast hand helps a lot, but strangely I only do it on starboard gybes.
Adam got out too, as did Albert, since they both rent kit and could go big. Thilo has only his won which is small so he stayed in and ate. This won't affect him much because he's pretty skinny already. No sign of M&F, so perhaps we'll see them this evening. The plan to meet at the TamTam is already coming unstuck, apparently it's closed tonight! We're talking about lobster as a kind of going-away dinner, being expensive and all. Yum. Although something with lots of vegetables would be nice, I'm gagging for a kilo of broccoli.
Finished Revolutionary Road, good book, sad ending but it's like that sometimes. Not sure it was a great holiday read, but I did spend about 10 seconds picking it at Gatwick. I might read it again on the plane, or watch a movie, or play with my Mac, especially some photo sorting and removal.
The harness and wetsuit came back to the hotel, just in case we don't need to go up there tomorrow. They'll be dry which is a bonus, if a bit wimpy compared to Gen's full-on go-for-it attitude. I think my next "furren" trip will be a Cribby one again, because he keeps you at it, leaving little or no room for self-doubt, although I manage it anyway! There was a pretty low spot during the last Margs hol... but I did enjoy it more than this one which hasn't been varied enough really and hasn't taken me out of myself so much in a windsurfing sense. I did try and succeed at duck gybes though!! Be proud John!
Can I summarise this holiday? Mmm, let's try. Big range of conditions, good food. Company ok, although dampened by the dull Dutchman etc. - the first week was good with Gen, and her birthday etc. I didn't make the progress I wanted to, ending up stuck in the usual groove after the first week. That was partly exhaustion, partly the head cold and finally the conditions, which were pretty hairy and badly timed for my cold recovery. But I'm still alive, and there's lots to look forward to!
At least I got out today, on a medium board and a big sail, and planed around a bit, falling off a lot in my execrable gybes. I think I'll be practising a lot on the lawn at some point, because it's the details of hand and foot movements that are making me pause and look in the wrong places at the wrong time. And standing up! The Cribby technique of using the under-grip on the new mast hand helps a lot, but strangely I only do it on starboard gybes.
Adam got out too, as did Albert, since they both rent kit and could go big. Thilo has only his won which is small so he stayed in and ate. This won't affect him much because he's pretty skinny already. No sign of M&F, so perhaps we'll see them this evening. The plan to meet at the TamTam is already coming unstuck, apparently it's closed tonight! We're talking about lobster as a kind of going-away dinner, being expensive and all. Yum. Although something with lots of vegetables would be nice, I'm gagging for a kilo of broccoli.
Finished Revolutionary Road, good book, sad ending but it's like that sometimes. Not sure it was a great holiday read, but I did spend about 10 seconds picking it at Gatwick. I might read it again on the plane, or watch a movie, or play with my Mac, especially some photo sorting and removal.
The harness and wetsuit came back to the hotel, just in case we don't need to go up there tomorrow. They'll be dry which is a bonus, if a bit wimpy compared to Gen's full-on go-for-it attitude. I think my next "furren" trip will be a Cribby one again, because he keeps you at it, leaving little or no room for self-doubt, although I manage it anyway! There was a pretty low spot during the last Margs hol... but I did enjoy it more than this one which hasn't been varied enough really and hasn't taken me out of myself so much in a windsurfing sense. I did try and succeed at duck gybes though!! Be proud John!
Can I summarise this holiday? Mmm, let's try. Big range of conditions, good food. Company ok, although dampened by the dull Dutchman etc. - the first week was good with Gen, and her birthday etc. I didn't make the progress I wanted to, ending up stuck in the usual groove after the first week. That was partly exhaustion, partly the head cold and finally the conditions, which were pretty hairy and badly timed for my cold recovery. But I'm still alive, and there's lots to look forward to!
Saturday, 7 March 2009
And the Roof's Leaking!
An update on the rain situation. Just before we left for the no-wind beach, much later than usual, I stepped in some water on the floor by my suitcase. At first I thought it was coming from the air conditioner, the power had come back on and I'd turned it off after it came on automatically, but no... Pulling my suitcase away and rescuing the Tiree t-shirt, I realised it was coming from a crack in the ceiling. Clearly the flat roof doesn't hold water. This evening it's all dry, so either the sun has dried things out or it's all dripped through and the maid mopped it up!
However, I did attempt to see how much water there was by standing on the veranda wall to look over the roof edge - no good, the sloping porch is lower than the main roof. The main effect was to get into conversation with the recently retired Brummie and his wife sat on their veranda next door, which was interesting from an observational point of view. They have a caravan they go round the UK in, and spend time in warmer climates also. His main interest seemed to be whether or not we had a remote control for the TV, because they don't - we said we did but it wasn't worth it, because it's only Portuguese channels. They spoke of going to eat at the Turtle Shack, which we tried to put them off, since other places in town are much better - they paid 20€ a head for last night's meal here in the hotel, so 8€ at the Compad, say, would suit them better and cost less. They seemed surprised that Santa Maria is safe, and that you can walk around pretty easily. What's the point of all this detail? Not sure really - I kind of felt a bit snobbish about it at first, but hey, he's organised his life, he's enjoying it, what kind of problem's that?? I suppose I'm trying to learn how to do that in a way that is enough for me, which brings me to...
I've been reading Revolutionary Road, the Richard Ayers (like I heard of him before ;-o ) novel that's now a film with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DeCaprio. Wow. Brutally exposing, like seeing one of those preserved, plasticised corpses that that Austrian guy makes. So many illusions revealed, explored, in a totally forensic and I'd say non-judgemental way - you bring your own feelings, morals, illusions and problems to it, which can be hard going. It's about a couple and the people whose lives intersect with theirs, examining their inner life really closely, their dissatisfaction, their resentments and what they do about them. I'll probably read some of his others, this was his first so it'll be interesting to see where he took it. He has some great phrases, very big, powerful, colourful, a novel written with the intensity of youth I wonder? Defo going to see the film!
Oh yeah, today got to the beach, virtually zero wind, A&T sitting looking out, big surf, tough shorebreak, with the waves at the point working well for surfing. To get away from the rather static thing happening I walked down there to see F&M, and watch the surfing close up. There was a broken board that made an ok picture, and an astonishing charnel/midden heap of conch shells, which it was someone's theory that fisherman dump there when they've taken out the meat. Who knows, but plenty of supplies for conch sellers everywhere, once they've polished them up a bit! Some people went out later, and there were some guys trying boogie boarding, but I fell asleep and despite a coffee couldn't raise my game to get out there, which I rather regret. But it was BIG and the run-out to the beach is full of newly-revealed rocks after the pounding of the last few days. We came back here earlier than usual which is ok, apart from the horrible music and show crap going on by the pool for the Djadsal Holiday Campers - Butlins on a desert island (Desert Island Dorks? There you go again...). Time to go buy some more internet time so I can upload this and check on everyone :-)
However, I did attempt to see how much water there was by standing on the veranda wall to look over the roof edge - no good, the sloping porch is lower than the main roof. The main effect was to get into conversation with the recently retired Brummie and his wife sat on their veranda next door, which was interesting from an observational point of view. They have a caravan they go round the UK in, and spend time in warmer climates also. His main interest seemed to be whether or not we had a remote control for the TV, because they don't - we said we did but it wasn't worth it, because it's only Portuguese channels. They spoke of going to eat at the Turtle Shack, which we tried to put them off, since other places in town are much better - they paid 20€ a head for last night's meal here in the hotel, so 8€ at the Compad, say, would suit them better and cost less. They seemed surprised that Santa Maria is safe, and that you can walk around pretty easily. What's the point of all this detail? Not sure really - I kind of felt a bit snobbish about it at first, but hey, he's organised his life, he's enjoying it, what kind of problem's that?? I suppose I'm trying to learn how to do that in a way that is enough for me, which brings me to...
I've been reading Revolutionary Road, the Richard Ayers (like I heard of him before ;-o ) novel that's now a film with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DeCaprio. Wow. Brutally exposing, like seeing one of those preserved, plasticised corpses that that Austrian guy makes. So many illusions revealed, explored, in a totally forensic and I'd say non-judgemental way - you bring your own feelings, morals, illusions and problems to it, which can be hard going. It's about a couple and the people whose lives intersect with theirs, examining their inner life really closely, their dissatisfaction, their resentments and what they do about them. I'll probably read some of his others, this was his first so it'll be interesting to see where he took it. He has some great phrases, very big, powerful, colourful, a novel written with the intensity of youth I wonder? Defo going to see the film!
Oh yeah, today got to the beach, virtually zero wind, A&T sitting looking out, big surf, tough shorebreak, with the waves at the point working well for surfing. To get away from the rather static thing happening I walked down there to see F&M, and watch the surfing close up. There was a broken board that made an ok picture, and an astonishing charnel/midden heap of conch shells, which it was someone's theory that fisherman dump there when they've taken out the meat. Who knows, but plenty of supplies for conch sellers everywhere, once they've polished them up a bit! Some people went out later, and there were some guys trying boogie boarding, but I fell asleep and despite a coffee couldn't raise my game to get out there, which I rather regret. But it was BIG and the run-out to the beach is full of newly-revealed rocks after the pounding of the last few days. We came back here earlier than usual which is ok, apart from the horrible music and show crap going on by the pool for the Djadsal Holiday Campers - Butlins on a desert island (Desert Island Dorks? There you go again...). Time to go buy some more internet time so I can upload this and check on everyone :-)
It's Raining...
Tropical Rain, giant drops that splatter the cobbles and turn the sand into orange peel. And that hardly ever happens here - this is Sal, the island of salt. And now the power's blinked off, about thirty seconds after the rain started, revealing things we don't really want to know about the structure of the hotel electricity wiring. Unless the management team turn it off to prevent anyone having an accident, but that's as scary as the first thought!
Unusually I'm writing this in the morning, after another night that ended up at the Calema. We'd met with Thilo and Albert for food at the Creole Cafe, and I'd had tuna spaghetti again, but should have had yet another tuna or barracuda steak just because of the veg. On the way there I'd spotted Marco and Frederika eating in another place and had dropped off the SD card with their pictures on it, and they'd come round to say hi afterwards, leaving Frederika behind because Marco was tired and doesn't like A&T. Since F hadn't yet been to the Calema, it was a natch!
Once there, a "local" guy, claiming to be a fisherman from another island using his brother's boat, started hitting on me - he got a beer and a cigarette eventually, and wanted me to buy some fish from him for a barbecue. Nice idea, but then it turned into begging, and I had to point out that "respect" for me meant doing something for it not just holding out your hand. He eventually backed off, which was a relief. We got to meet Julian's hard-partying French mates, who have kept him up until 7 or 8 in the morning recently. Ouch. Adam went home, having insisted on more beer than I really needed. Another good band though - great bass player! I wanna be a bass player in a reggae band, as long as I don't have to smoke dope. Plan for 2009 - join or start a reggae band!
So after a brief discussion on German authors, Heinrich Boll, Grass, Hesse and Kafka (an honorary German??) with Thilo and Rika outside the bar, I wandered home. Hanging around near the causeway leading to the hotel was Emmanuel, the guy Adam's kind of taken up with - he's a bit good at that. After a walk and a chat, I ended up parting with 10 Eur for some more trinkets, which are kinda nice but not what I had in mind for the end of the evening. He sleeps on the beach over by the Angulo station, is a Sal native and clearly resents the apparent ownership of shops by Senegalese. Interesting!
And so to bed. Too many dreams, very scary ones that have fortunately faded, and too few hours, now Adam's jumped up ready for breakfast. Bah...
Unusually I'm writing this in the morning, after another night that ended up at the Calema. We'd met with Thilo and Albert for food at the Creole Cafe, and I'd had tuna spaghetti again, but should have had yet another tuna or barracuda steak just because of the veg. On the way there I'd spotted Marco and Frederika eating in another place and had dropped off the SD card with their pictures on it, and they'd come round to say hi afterwards, leaving Frederika behind because Marco was tired and doesn't like A&T. Since F hadn't yet been to the Calema, it was a natch!
Once there, a "local" guy, claiming to be a fisherman from another island using his brother's boat, started hitting on me - he got a beer and a cigarette eventually, and wanted me to buy some fish from him for a barbecue. Nice idea, but then it turned into begging, and I had to point out that "respect" for me meant doing something for it not just holding out your hand. He eventually backed off, which was a relief. We got to meet Julian's hard-partying French mates, who have kept him up until 7 or 8 in the morning recently. Ouch. Adam went home, having insisted on more beer than I really needed. Another good band though - great bass player! I wanna be a bass player in a reggae band, as long as I don't have to smoke dope. Plan for 2009 - join or start a reggae band!
So after a brief discussion on German authors, Heinrich Boll, Grass, Hesse and Kafka (an honorary German??) with Thilo and Rika outside the bar, I wandered home. Hanging around near the causeway leading to the hotel was Emmanuel, the guy Adam's kind of taken up with - he's a bit good at that. After a walk and a chat, I ended up parting with 10 Eur for some more trinkets, which are kinda nice but not what I had in mind for the end of the evening. He sleeps on the beach over by the Angulo station, is a Sal native and clearly resents the apparent ownership of shops by Senegalese. Interesting!
And so to bed. Too many dreams, very scary ones that have fortunately faded, and too few hours, now Adam's jumped up ready for breakfast. Bah...
Friday, 6 March 2009
So That's It...
Not so much "that's it" as in "that's all folks", more like "that's how/why it's done". Arguably it all started with an interesting evening last night, where a great daily special (flaked cod croquettes with beany rice and tomatoes) at the Relax was followed with an hour and a few beers at the Cafe Calema. The Calema is the kind of place where you just know you could find someone who could get the very thing you need, populated by locals, male and female, and tourists, as well as a very good band playing reggae fairly loudly but well. The bass player was 6' 6" with huge dreads, skinny thighs and a very cool attitude, so they must have been good. The only downside was the embarrassing 50+ year old guys hanging around the black local ladies, who weren't having a problem with this, but really... And I'm not talking about me, although there was a group of 3-4 who came in with some English cash-flashers who were absolutely stunning and clearly enjoying their evening-long private joke, and smelling incredible, a mixture of perfume and something else, musky, African... Hmm. Left after three beers and discussed the various people including Fat Pedro and his mate Roberto on the other side of the bar. Even slept well thanks to earplugs - what a great idea! Only the noises and voices in my head to keep me awake now.
And then this morning, lighter wind, sunny, time to go windsurf. Took out a 104 Synchro and 5.7m Ice, and didn't get munched in the shorebreak, because a) it was smaller b) I checked the beach topography before going in and found a spot with fewer stones, so got to sand fast and got away - result! Just blasted up and down, occasionally managed to make a gybe or two, but starting to work out why I don't. Good. Tried to raise my level of aggression generally - it's too easy to pootle along reflectively and not work it. I eventually stopped after an enjoyable 90 minutes, end came in not so cold or tired as previously. Hmm. Food for thought there... and also food for me, since I was hungry by this time.
Slept a bit, then went down to the point to see Josh and some other locals working the break at the point, took some good photos. One of the Brits, Chris, was out there, and I got some good shots of his first wave rides, including the last one where he held in too long, got hit by white water, fell off and took the next 3 big ones on the head, resulting in a broken boom. Josh accepted 80EUR for that, which I guess was nice of him ;-).
Adam bought some more local trinket stuff from Emmanuel, his pet project on the way home, and we stopped at the other Mistral centre for a Happy Hour punch and nibbles. And now I've just copied lots of pix onto various SD cards for folks around, guess I'll have to get wave rider Chris's email because they haven't got any spare or empty ones. Time for updating the blog, checking email and getting out for tea :-) not sure where yet. Oh yes, Julian got in at 7 am, after Jungle/Calema/Late Opening bar sessions... Ah youth. He looked like shit. Apparently!
And then this morning, lighter wind, sunny, time to go windsurf. Took out a 104 Synchro and 5.7m Ice, and didn't get munched in the shorebreak, because a) it was smaller b) I checked the beach topography before going in and found a spot with fewer stones, so got to sand fast and got away - result! Just blasted up and down, occasionally managed to make a gybe or two, but starting to work out why I don't. Good. Tried to raise my level of aggression generally - it's too easy to pootle along reflectively and not work it. I eventually stopped after an enjoyable 90 minutes, end came in not so cold or tired as previously. Hmm. Food for thought there... and also food for me, since I was hungry by this time.
Slept a bit, then went down to the point to see Josh and some other locals working the break at the point, took some good photos. One of the Brits, Chris, was out there, and I got some good shots of his first wave rides, including the last one where he held in too long, got hit by white water, fell off and took the next 3 big ones on the head, resulting in a broken boom. Josh accepted 80EUR for that, which I guess was nice of him ;-).
Adam bought some more local trinket stuff from Emmanuel, his pet project on the way home, and we stopped at the other Mistral centre for a Happy Hour punch and nibbles. And now I've just copied lots of pix onto various SD cards for folks around, guess I'll have to get wave rider Chris's email because they haven't got any spare or empty ones. Time for updating the blog, checking email and getting out for tea :-) not sure where yet. Oh yes, Julian got in at 7 am, after Jungle/Calema/Late Opening bar sessions... Ah youth. He looked like shit. Apparently!
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Hot and Fed Up - Everything Hurts
Came down fairly early to the beach today, after not sleeping very well owing to extremely disturbing post-Paddy dreams. These included weird videos of drink-fuelled car smash victims dissolving to their constituent components, until one burst into flames that spread incredibly rapidly to include me, burning me up, at which point I awoke with a cry and a start. Earplugged Adam slept on.
Eventually selected a Synchro 94l and a 4.2m sail, which required some shenanigans from Calloo, the main man at the station - did I say he's worked for Mistral there for 19 years? Blimey. Once again braved the shorebreak, and once again lost, basically because I hadn't realised that the beach is now comprised of rocks, not sand, after yesterday's bashing, and I couldn't stand up without pain and suffering, so was unable to correct the board's turning sideways against the wave. Bang, down we go, mucho embarrassment, and the board boy helps me out and holds it for me to have another go. This time I made it, just and left in reasonable shape.
Very gusty conditions, another different board/sail combination. too low a boom because I didn't correct it before leaving, and also extremely choppy - like the Solent with large silicon swell breasts once I got "out the back". Anyway, bashed in and out for around 40 minutes, made a couple of gybes (yay!!), missed loads more. In fact I took the GPS which was the coolest part of the day, and clocked a measly 21 knots max speed, and a distance of 7.29 nautical miles. It's extremely hard to go faster in chop, each wave collision saps speed and power, and the gusty wind also makes it hard to achieve the consistency for ultimate speed.
Eventually, wasn't making gybes, and felt extremely cold. A couple of runs before that I'd made the inside and outside gybes, and started to warm up in the watery sun, but hanging around in the water froze me up. Zoomed back into the beach, successfully negotiating the break, and even finding a sandy bit, further down wind from my original starting point - a tip for a tomorrow!
This all left me shivering on the beach, talking to Frederika, segelmadchen extraordinaire. Got dressed, settled on the Angulo couch and basically stayed there the rest of the day. My hands and arms are extremely painful, as are my feet from cracked heel skin, so sailing is a bit distressing once it stops being easy! Ah, the hero undone... It's supposed to be less windy tomorrow. hopefully that will help.
Eventually selected a Synchro 94l and a 4.2m sail, which required some shenanigans from Calloo, the main man at the station - did I say he's worked for Mistral there for 19 years? Blimey. Once again braved the shorebreak, and once again lost, basically because I hadn't realised that the beach is now comprised of rocks, not sand, after yesterday's bashing, and I couldn't stand up without pain and suffering, so was unable to correct the board's turning sideways against the wave. Bang, down we go, mucho embarrassment, and the board boy helps me out and holds it for me to have another go. This time I made it, just and left in reasonable shape.
Very gusty conditions, another different board/sail combination. too low a boom because I didn't correct it before leaving, and also extremely choppy - like the Solent with large silicon swell breasts once I got "out the back". Anyway, bashed in and out for around 40 minutes, made a couple of gybes (yay!!), missed loads more. In fact I took the GPS which was the coolest part of the day, and clocked a measly 21 knots max speed, and a distance of 7.29 nautical miles. It's extremely hard to go faster in chop, each wave collision saps speed and power, and the gusty wind also makes it hard to achieve the consistency for ultimate speed.
Eventually, wasn't making gybes, and felt extremely cold. A couple of runs before that I'd made the inside and outside gybes, and started to warm up in the watery sun, but hanging around in the water froze me up. Zoomed back into the beach, successfully negotiating the break, and even finding a sandy bit, further down wind from my original starting point - a tip for a tomorrow!
This all left me shivering on the beach, talking to Frederika, segelmadchen extraordinaire. Got dressed, settled on the Angulo couch and basically stayed there the rest of the day. My hands and arms are extremely painful, as are my feet from cracked heel skin, so sailing is a bit distressing once it stops being easy! Ah, the hero undone... It's supposed to be less windy tomorrow. hopefully that will help.
Ricky Bounces Back
Like the song says, woke up this morning, but I didn't want to. Still hot, head full - I wish bloody Adam wasn't so hot on the 7 am opening the curtains thing, I might have to kill him in his sleep, especially if he's coughing at the time.
Breakfast - yeah, made it. What's breakfast? A plate of bacon, scrambled egg, egg and ham thing, and some cachupa rica, a thing made with chickpeas that is really tasty, two slices of toast, a glass of amazing red orange juice, at least two cups of tea, and the last two days half and orange and half a grapefruit, cuz the Vit C is a Good Plan apparently. Then collect some rolls, cheese, cake, biscuits, anything I fancy as a snack or lunch, and wrap it up in the paper place setting before scurrying out, hampered by lappie and tucker/snap/McDonalds Happy Meal/<insert local lunch package name here>.
And today was bigger than yesterday - more wind, bigger waves, huger shoredump. BUT, determined to slough off the brain-deadening mush, and buoyed by a gram of paracetamol and 400mg of ibuprofen, not to mention the usual ounces of glucosamine and fish oil, Ricky N decided to Head Out. Yay!! Took a while for chief rigging guy, Caloo, to sort a 4.0 sail, and Luca to deliver another board from the other Mistral station, but eventually I was at the beach edge, primed.
And the fun started. There is almost a queue to get out, since the gap between the under-surf rocks is quite small, and you don't want to be arsing about in the seriously chunky surf with others, thereby increasing the comedy value for the slackers in the relative safety of the shack. The guy in front of me got a bit munched, but managed to get away. Ricky N, however, spotted a potential gap and went for it, on the strange board, in an extremely offshore gusty wind, with a small sail, sized for the honking 30 knots out the back and not the light wind on the inside, with the boom lower than usual thereby reducing waterstart-ability, and got completely munched. Pants. And we are talking munched, to the extent that I was face down under the sail facing up the beach, breathing sand and water while my hands were being lacerated by the newly discovered purest Sandpaper, of approximately paint-stripping grade.
But Gabrie was there to help, one of the surf shack guys - grabbed the gear, asked I was alright, sorted it out, asked if I was alright, and then told me when to go. Another attempt, and I made it!! More used to the board after a few seconds of trying it, slightly more wind, slightly lower break, whatever it was, it worked. Great!! I just wished my arms hadn't felt like lead, and my general enthusiasm been drained so deep by the attack of the munchies...
Now what?? I headed out to sea, eventually getting this fairly small and banana-shaped wave board to plane, and finding the footstraps. Big Wind. And not just in the wetsuit. Hammered out the back, and cheated on the gybe, just fell in. Argh!! And the usual doubts flood in - the board won't lie on the water, the sail's not playing the game, I'm maybe 1km offshore, the swell is Huge, to the extent that it causes a wind-shadow when you're in a trough... But eventually it all lines up and I charge back down the swell heading in again. Try a gybe? Why not?? And the Mistral Beast does its thing - zooms round in a perfect arc, I ride the rails and flip the rig, and I'm heading back out!! Amazing! How does he do that??
This performance (usually without the effective gybe, but hey, once is good in a hefty sea and a wind gusting 11-35 knots as measured in the lower conditions on the beach) was repeated a number of times, with increasing confidence. Excellent!! I'm not rubbish! Ricky is banished! Life is good!! Windsurfing is fun/scarey/hard/life-enhancing etc etc. And some 40 minutes later (since I want to get in through the shore-break with some strength left) I zoom into the crunch zone and manage not to fall off, riding the back of a wave to the beach, remaining standing up and picking the kit up nonchalantly out of the surf like a True God. Brill.
Breakfast - yeah, made it. What's breakfast? A plate of bacon, scrambled egg, egg and ham thing, and some cachupa rica, a thing made with chickpeas that is really tasty, two slices of toast, a glass of amazing red orange juice, at least two cups of tea, and the last two days half and orange and half a grapefruit, cuz the Vit C is a Good Plan apparently. Then collect some rolls, cheese, cake, biscuits, anything I fancy as a snack or lunch, and wrap it up in the paper place setting before scurrying out, hampered by lappie and tucker/snap/McDonalds Happy Meal/<insert local lunch package name here>.
And today was bigger than yesterday - more wind, bigger waves, huger shoredump. BUT, determined to slough off the brain-deadening mush, and buoyed by a gram of paracetamol and 400mg of ibuprofen, not to mention the usual ounces of glucosamine and fish oil, Ricky N decided to Head Out. Yay!! Took a while for chief rigging guy, Caloo, to sort a 4.0 sail, and Luca to deliver another board from the other Mistral station, but eventually I was at the beach edge, primed.
And the fun started. There is almost a queue to get out, since the gap between the under-surf rocks is quite small, and you don't want to be arsing about in the seriously chunky surf with others, thereby increasing the comedy value for the slackers in the relative safety of the shack. The guy in front of me got a bit munched, but managed to get away. Ricky N, however, spotted a potential gap and went for it, on the strange board, in an extremely offshore gusty wind, with a small sail, sized for the honking 30 knots out the back and not the light wind on the inside, with the boom lower than usual thereby reducing waterstart-ability, and got completely munched. Pants. And we are talking munched, to the extent that I was face down under the sail facing up the beach, breathing sand and water while my hands were being lacerated by the newly discovered purest Sandpaper, of approximately paint-stripping grade.
But Gabrie was there to help, one of the surf shack guys - grabbed the gear, asked I was alright, sorted it out, asked if I was alright, and then told me when to go. Another attempt, and I made it!! More used to the board after a few seconds of trying it, slightly more wind, slightly lower break, whatever it was, it worked. Great!! I just wished my arms hadn't felt like lead, and my general enthusiasm been drained so deep by the attack of the munchies...
Now what?? I headed out to sea, eventually getting this fairly small and banana-shaped wave board to plane, and finding the footstraps. Big Wind. And not just in the wetsuit. Hammered out the back, and cheated on the gybe, just fell in. Argh!! And the usual doubts flood in - the board won't lie on the water, the sail's not playing the game, I'm maybe 1km offshore, the swell is Huge, to the extent that it causes a wind-shadow when you're in a trough... But eventually it all lines up and I charge back down the swell heading in again. Try a gybe? Why not?? And the Mistral Beast does its thing - zooms round in a perfect arc, I ride the rails and flip the rig, and I'm heading back out!! Amazing! How does he do that??
This performance (usually without the effective gybe, but hey, once is good in a hefty sea and a wind gusting 11-35 knots as measured in the lower conditions on the beach) was repeated a number of times, with increasing confidence. Excellent!! I'm not rubbish! Ricky is banished! Life is good!! Windsurfing is fun/scarey/hard/life-enhancing etc etc. And some 40 minutes later (since I want to get in through the shore-break with some strength left) I zoom into the crunch zone and manage not to fall off, riding the back of a wave to the beach, remaining standing up and picking the kit up nonchalantly out of the surf like a True God. Brill.
Welcome Bob, Goodbye Patrick
I had a whole thing written about today's sailing and stuff, but it's not important compared with the arrival today of my third grandchild, nicknamed Bob from about 15 minutes after conception, and the last farewell to Patrick Connolly, who finally relinquished his grip on a great and meaningful life in the company of his magical daughter and loving grand-daughters. Hiya Bob, see you soon, looking forward to getting to know you! See you Paddy, hopefully not too soon - so glad I knew you!
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
The Slack Day
Today I was feeling pretty grim, after a long night of phlegm, heat, shivering, all the stuff associated with colds. I packed all the usual beach paraphernalia, and went with Adam to the surf shack, but once sat on the nice comfy seats there, I wasn't going to be moving far. The trip involved a detour to the farmacia, which was (and still is) concealed as a house. The nice lady in a special pharmacist's coat sold me two packs of paracetamol, which I intend to work my way through, under controlled conditions yunnerstand. In fact, I only found the pharmacy because I'd stopped off in the TamTam bar, owned and operated by an Irish couple, to ask for instructions. She'd helpfully suggested that I should walk back the way I'd come, until I saw BCA Bank and then a handbag shop, at which point the green building would be self-evident. It was, just not recognisably a pharmacy until a helpful lady pointed this out.
So today was spent consuming fluids, confectionary and sandwiches lifted from the breakfast buffer, and sleeping. Oh, apart from a walk to the point with Marco, where I took millions (well, 650) of pictures of people windsurfing, in the hope of getting some good ones. Don't think I have, but hey... I'll be better next time and they're better than nothing! It was a great day for people to sail, waves on the point, 4.7 weather, people zooming around, lots of fun being had. I even felt like it when I saw them at the point on the waves, but now, sitting in the hotel room, I'm glad I didn't try it, since I'm feeling pretty second-hand without having put out much.
Tonight's eating venue is the Compad resto, which is apparently cheap but has good food, meeting Rika and Marco there at 8, which is not far off now. My head is still thick, and I feel hot and overheated. Hmm, hope the recent paracetamol dose kicks in soon.
I have every intention of decorating this with pictures, but it's too lengthy and boring and expensive to upload them from Cabo, so I'll do this in edits later. Bye for now :-)
So today was spent consuming fluids, confectionary and sandwiches lifted from the breakfast buffer, and sleeping. Oh, apart from a walk to the point with Marco, where I took millions (well, 650) of pictures of people windsurfing, in the hope of getting some good ones. Don't think I have, but hey... I'll be better next time and they're better than nothing! It was a great day for people to sail, waves on the point, 4.7 weather, people zooming around, lots of fun being had. I even felt like it when I saw them at the point on the waves, but now, sitting in the hotel room, I'm glad I didn't try it, since I'm feeling pretty second-hand without having put out much.
Tonight's eating venue is the Compad resto, which is apparently cheap but has good food, meeting Rika and Marco there at 8, which is not far off now. My head is still thick, and I feel hot and overheated. Hmm, hope the recent paracetamol dose kicks in soon.
I have every intention of decorating this with pictures, but it's too lengthy and boring and expensive to upload them from Cabo, so I'll do this in edits later. Bye for now :-)
Ricky Nadir - His Story
Ricky Nadir was the anti-hero from some Genesis album (Lamb?) - just about suits me tonight. Far too much sun, sailing, water in head, exhaustion - probably running a fever yet to be overcome by aspirin and ibuprofen. Maybe I need paracetamol too. Came back to the room, lay on the bed, passed out for maybe 45 minutes, and now it's time to leave for the evening's entertainment. Cafe Creolo I believe. The shower didn't help other than confusing my body which wasn't sure if it needed warmth (back yes please) or cold (head - wow, nice idea!).
And this is probably typical for a windsurfing holiday - I reach a peak and a trough at various points, and have to deal with both ends of the emotional and physical spectrum. Right now, I'm not very interested in windsurfing, but it's playing in my head in a somewhat delirious way - I can feel the board under my feet, hear the water, brace against the wind. Crazy! So, food, sleep, let's see what happens tomorrow. There's supposed to be stronger wind, which frankly, right now, I don't give a flying toss about. But let's see, it might not happen and I'll likely feel better if it does. Be sensible J - you've sailed every day for seven days!
p.s. spent the night tossing and turning - yuck, kind of a head cold thing. Blah. And it's windy and overcast today.
And this is probably typical for a windsurfing holiday - I reach a peak and a trough at various points, and have to deal with both ends of the emotional and physical spectrum. Right now, I'm not very interested in windsurfing, but it's playing in my head in a somewhat delirious way - I can feel the board under my feet, hear the water, brace against the wind. Crazy! So, food, sleep, let's see what happens tomorrow. There's supposed to be stronger wind, which frankly, right now, I don't give a flying toss about. But let's see, it might not happen and I'll likely feel better if it does. Be sensible J - you've sailed every day for seven days!
p.s. spent the night tossing and turning - yuck, kind of a head cold thing. Blah. And it's windy and overcast today.
Monday, 2 March 2009
An Interesting Day
After yesterday's extreme exhaustion, sunstroke, whatever, I was pretty cautious in my expectations. Arrived at the Angulo station with Beth having gone up the beach instead of the road, which was much nicer - some of the hotels and compounds are like little stone villages, very quiet, peaceful, they would be a great place to stay sometime. Not many people were out and those that were didn't seem to be doing much planing. Gen was keen to get out, so she set up a big board and sail and hammered off, later to be seen doing duck gybes. Beth rented a big board and was seen sailing briefly in her newly-found bikini bottoms, before putting on her wetsuit for reasons of cold.
I just hung around, talking, feeling a bit under the weather, no rush to get out, not really looking forward to the possibility of cold and yesterday's exhaustion being repeated. Hey, aversion therapy works right? Adam eventually decided he was going out, and things seemed to have picked up, so I also reckoned I should give it a go, with the aim of trying some duck gybes as a change from the usual half-hearted crap, and maybe as an antidote to my lethargy and non-desire to windsurf.
At the station, checked out a Synchro 104 and they also had a 5.9, which seemed a bit much, but what the hey. Auspiciously, I didn't fall off on the way out, and windmaiden Rika also selected a 104 Synchro, unusually slack for her! It wasn't too hard to get going, and I zoomed upwind pretty easily, away from the mainstream of Ocean Groovers ploughing in and out. Coming back in it flattened off, and the wind stayed up, so time for a Duck Gybe... And I almost succeeded the first time! Managed eventually to clock two at least, and quite an enjoyable experience it was too. Big up to J. I also did one near carve gybe where things went very well,but I slipped off the board just as the sail came round, but flipping the rig earlier certainly helped, along with continuing to bear away rather than coming upwind too quickly. Started to feel a bit cold and tired, so came in for some drink and a banana. This was a good plan, and I should do this more often - stop earlier on a high, instead of continuing until I'm on a low.
Went out again, without my hat to see what it was like - too cold! Too much sun too, and I like the shade on my face I realise. In fact, feeling a bit over-cooked this evening writing this :-( hope it's not too serious. I don't know how people can handle it without, maybe no hair is more of a problem or a difference than I realise. Just did a couple of runs then came in, still very tired. Spent the rest of the afternoon asleep and relaxing - very very pleasant, with no feelings of guilt after the duck gybe successes.
I also noticed an article by Peter Hart in the Dec 08 Windsurf mag, suggesting that carving in footstraps is great for getting one's weight in the right place, with full commitment. I'm going to try this tomorrow!! I realise that this is very much a problem, too much of a commitment to the rig's force, I need to surf the board and boss the rig about a lot more, rather than hang on to it as my only source of stability. How to change this? Mental attitude to start with, and using opposition more perhaps. Treat it like an addition, not everything!
Had a couple of beers on the way home at the bar by the pier, watching football and talking windsurf bollocks with Marco, Frederika, Julian (nice French guy) and Gen and Adam. Beth had gone to buy some trinkets for her girls. Very pleasant, although the beer had a big effect, I feel quite lethargic and hot now, too much sun and a good job I put on the long-sleeved shirt today. I also took some potentially interesting photos of people on the pier etc as the sun started to set. On the last stretch stopped to talk to Adam's cigarette guy, and managed to get talked into 800ESC worth of crappy bracelets and necklaces - ah well. He said he was going off to eat directly after, so maybe someone is benefiting! And tonight is dinner in the Cultural Cafe, providing they're open on a Sunday - hard to remember what day of the week it is, which is a good sign, right?
I just hung around, talking, feeling a bit under the weather, no rush to get out, not really looking forward to the possibility of cold and yesterday's exhaustion being repeated. Hey, aversion therapy works right? Adam eventually decided he was going out, and things seemed to have picked up, so I also reckoned I should give it a go, with the aim of trying some duck gybes as a change from the usual half-hearted crap, and maybe as an antidote to my lethargy and non-desire to windsurf.
At the station, checked out a Synchro 104 and they also had a 5.9, which seemed a bit much, but what the hey. Auspiciously, I didn't fall off on the way out, and windmaiden Rika also selected a 104 Synchro, unusually slack for her! It wasn't too hard to get going, and I zoomed upwind pretty easily, away from the mainstream of Ocean Groovers ploughing in and out. Coming back in it flattened off, and the wind stayed up, so time for a Duck Gybe... And I almost succeeded the first time! Managed eventually to clock two at least, and quite an enjoyable experience it was too. Big up to J. I also did one near carve gybe where things went very well,but I slipped off the board just as the sail came round, but flipping the rig earlier certainly helped, along with continuing to bear away rather than coming upwind too quickly. Started to feel a bit cold and tired, so came in for some drink and a banana. This was a good plan, and I should do this more often - stop earlier on a high, instead of continuing until I'm on a low.
Went out again, without my hat to see what it was like - too cold! Too much sun too, and I like the shade on my face I realise. In fact, feeling a bit over-cooked this evening writing this :-( hope it's not too serious. I don't know how people can handle it without, maybe no hair is more of a problem or a difference than I realise. Just did a couple of runs then came in, still very tired. Spent the rest of the afternoon asleep and relaxing - very very pleasant, with no feelings of guilt after the duck gybe successes.
I also noticed an article by Peter Hart in the Dec 08 Windsurf mag, suggesting that carving in footstraps is great for getting one's weight in the right place, with full commitment. I'm going to try this tomorrow!! I realise that this is very much a problem, too much of a commitment to the rig's force, I need to surf the board and boss the rig about a lot more, rather than hang on to it as my only source of stability. How to change this? Mental attitude to start with, and using opposition more perhaps. Treat it like an addition, not everything!
Had a couple of beers on the way home at the bar by the pier, watching football and talking windsurf bollocks with Marco, Frederika, Julian (nice French guy) and Gen and Adam. Beth had gone to buy some trinkets for her girls. Very pleasant, although the beer had a big effect, I feel quite lethargic and hot now, too much sun and a good job I put on the long-sleeved shirt today. I also took some potentially interesting photos of people on the pier etc as the sun started to set. On the last stretch stopped to talk to Adam's cigarette guy, and managed to get talked into 800ESC worth of crappy bracelets and necklaces - ah well. He said he was going off to eat directly after, so maybe someone is benefiting! And tonight is dinner in the Cultural Cafe, providing they're open on a Sunday - hard to remember what day of the week it is, which is a good sign, right?
Friday, 27 February 2009
The No-Wind Day
Well, not exactly no wind, but not a lot, and not very constant when there was. Beth, deprived of waves and wind, and with no transport to go hunting for what probably wasn't there, undergoing paroxysms of frustration, capped by her long and complex text exchange with Michael ending in the reply "I'll swap you". Nuff said. Adam and I lit out for the other Mistral centre where we sat around for a bit until I took out a large beginner board and a 5.0 to practise heli-tacks. Thanks to Frenchman Julian's tips, I eventually made some, by which time I was quite tired. Great result though - so much better awareness of the sail power etc etc and how to control it. Thanks guy.
Interesting example of my tenacity here - stuck at the heli-tack thing, even when I was getting pretty choked off with it. The breakthrough came when I went back to re-fasten the outhaul, that had slipped undone. I practised the move on the land under Jules' instruction, until I did one as a dry run. Then, back on the water, I managed to do one almost immediately, refreshed and retuned with some better idea of what i was doing. A peak of activity and success then occurred, followed by a bit of confusion and frustration when I got tired and couldn't remember which way you're supposed to turn... But the tenacity paid off. Cool.
Interesting example of my tenacity here - stuck at the heli-tack thing, even when I was getting pretty choked off with it. The breakthrough came when I went back to re-fasten the outhaul, that had slipped undone. I practised the move on the land under Jules' instruction, until I did one as a dry run. Then, back on the water, I managed to do one almost immediately, refreshed and retuned with some better idea of what i was doing. A peak of activity and success then occurred, followed by a bit of confusion and frustration when I got tired and couldn't remember which way you're supposed to turn... But the tenacity paid off. Cool.
The Birthday
This morning was a bit complicated - Adam and I had to get the birthday card we'd made last night (prepare picture (B&W), put on memory stick, take into reception, blag printing session from Hertz man, use frame of horrible painting on wood in room as straightedge to cut up hotel brochure for cardstock) signed by Beth, so some sleight of hand required at the breakfast table. Gen very touched :-)
It didn't seem that windy initially today, so we stopped off at the closer Mistral centre to check out their SUP rental etc. Incredibly skinny German girl attendant, no loos, lots of bigger boards. It's right beside the Atlantic resto where we ate last night - good grilled fish, and a very relaxing and not too cheesy "world music' band in the posh hotel across the road, at least for Adam and me. Anyway, ended up at the usual centre, rigged a 5.9 in the morning and a 6.4 in the afternoon, which turned out ok. Not as good as Gen's 6.8 and 145l monster though, but it is her birthday, so she's allowed to come screaming past throwing me off with her wake, literally.
And I haven't even started on the "windsurfing in bare feet is right up there with the best sex you ever had" line yet...
Windsurfing is microcosmic, in the very real sense that it is a complete universe, self-contained, with all the features of real life. I'm tense because it's still offshore, and lighter, even with bigger sail and board. It takes work to get planing sometimes, that involves trading upwind position in the hope of increased speed and thus upwind capability - more tension! Then there are times when the wind is fairly constant, and I'm thinking about life, or sex, or how sunny it is and how barely describably pleasant it is to be gliding along, looking down at the cliched (if it did but know it, but fortunately it doesn't, it just is itself and answers to no man) turquoise water, and those are great. But then the gust passes, and it's time to concentrate, and work on planing again or heading upwind in a different stance. Are those times any less pleasant? On reflection, no, but the actual moments, which I guess I'm living pretty hard since there is no capacity left for introspection, only effort to work the situation, seem less so. The feeling when the board lets go, when the noise and feel change from one of struggling, pushing water out of the way, to one of effortless gliding with the rig balanced, is worth all that. Every time.
So what does that tell me? Only that the world is what you bring to it, and you either leave it behind, or deal with it on the terms you hadn't realised you'd chosen. Blimey, been watching too many Sex in the City episodes.
And I haven't even started on the "windsurfing in bare feet is right up there with the best sex you ever had" line yet...We Meet the Champ!
Enough talking, time to go sailing! Except Adam's playing it cool, unlike Gen an
d Beth who are both keener than keen, Beth because she's just mad for it and Gen because there's no way she's going to be able to explain to Juan why she didn't get out there every possible minute. So, after the usual Day 1 hide-and-seek breakfast (where DO they put the bowls? Hmm, where Adam get that cheese? Argh, that Tetleys tea bag was, bleuch, fruit tea! And how do you open the proper tea bags?), we were waiting for Paulo outside the hotel with Beth's gear, debating what the baggage handlers might have done with her missing plastic bag containing her swimsuit bottoms.
Back out again, still windy, still wavy, but I'm tired from the morning, and not concentrating. The others are doing ok though, until it's time to come in. The Mistral guys are tapping their feet - it's 4.30, so close to 5! Don't want to be responsible for holding them up from getting on the water ;-). And Josh asked me if I had a good day!
Went out to eat at a fish place - Cafe America? - anyway, it was ok. Then the walk home - accosted by a man with cowrie shell necklaces, who pressed five upon me for my grandkids and every other family member then asked for a consideration for his baby about to be born and the party they were having tomorrow. We ended up exchanging 200ESC for one of them, which seemed fair!
d Beth who are both keener than keen, Beth because she's just mad for it and Gen because there's no way she's going to be able to explain to Juan why she didn't get out there every possible minute. So, after the usual Day 1 hide-and-seek breakfast (where DO they put the bowls? Hmm, where Adam get that cheese? Argh, that Tetleys tea bag was, bleuch, fruit tea! And how do you open the proper tea bags?), we were waiting for Paulo outside the hotel with Beth's gear, debating what the baggage handlers might have done with her missing plastic bag containing her swimsuit bottoms.Paulo's pickup is pretty cool - a black one. It has lots of stickers and a serious spider's-web windshield crack. Paulo is as cool as his truck, and he drives us through Santa Maria to the Angulo surfstation, which is actually on the beach. The Mistral, where Adam and I have booked, is further back, across the track that leads to the point. Gen gets sorted, r
igs, heads out to practise in the area in front of the station - it's cross-off, and frankly I'm a bit sceptical about the whole idea. She's having fun though, and we get organised with boards, rigging 5.3m North Ices. Time for the new shortle wetsuit too - will it be warm enough? I'm sceptical about that as well...
But it's a great morning's sail - the point has fairly large swell, that jacks up a bit as the tide drops, so it's fun to try to catch it. Not much good for jumping, although I did get a couple of ok jumps - Gen does lots more in the afternoon. Everyone has a good time, and we all make it back, despite it being offshore! Even me. Beth spends an inord
But it's a great morning's sail - the point has fairly large swell, that jacks up a bit as the tide drops, so it's fun to try to catch it. Not much good for jumping, although I did get a couple of ok jumps - Gen does lots more in the afternoon. Everyone has a good time, and we all make it back, despite it being offshore! Even me. Beth spends an inord
inate amount of lunchtime trying to work out how to use the GoPro Hero-cam, including the extremely comedy "strap-on" facility. The tuna rolls are apparently pretty good, but Adam and I, being outstandingly cheap, make do with the cheese sandwiches we fashioned at breakfast time. The Champ, Josh A is around most of the day, as is his son, a cheeky 5 or so year old, w
ho steals food off one of the local hero's plates, until he gets his own pancake. Lots of dogs, and the music is loud, and the usual surfy crowd eat, do funny handshakes, and josh around with the staff. The wizened lady behind the counter serves me with a bottle of water and a coffee con leche, eventually - the coffee machine needs some help, and the milk is unenthusiastically steamed and UHT.
ho steals food off one of the local hero's plates, until he gets his own pancake. Lots of dogs, and the music is loud, and the usual surfy crowd eat, do funny handshakes, and josh around with the staff. The wizened lady behind the counter serves me with a bottle of water and a coffee con leche, eventually - the coffee machine needs some help, and the milk is unenthusiastically steamed and UHT.Back out again, still windy, still wavy, but I'm tired from the morning, and not concentrating. The others are doing ok though, until it's time to come in. The Mistral guys are tapping their feet - it's 4.30, so close to 5! Don't want to be responsible for holding them up from getting on the water ;-). And Josh asked me if I had a good day!
Went out to eat at a fish place - Cafe America? - anyway, it was ok. Then the walk home - accosted by a man with cowrie shell necklaces, who pressed five upon me for my grandkids and every other family member then asked for a consideration for his baby about to be born and the party they were having tomorrow. We ended up exchanging 200ESC for one of them, which seemed fair!Tuesday, 24 February 2009
A Long Day!
The 6.34 Reading-Gatwick train, a mix of early commuters, Eastern European ladies and people like me, armed with wheeled monstrosities that refuse to be lifted onto the upper luggage shelf. I read the Guardian, mostly the sports and football running past my eyes and not going in. I'm really not feeling anything, but I put my hat on because it's cold - yesterday's haircut is taking effect. The night turns to day as the trip unfolds, at Reigate there is a regular commuting lineup of readers, listeners and dreamers, and I'm suddenly happy that I'm not going to work anywhere for a bit. Suddenly it seems we're at LGW, slightly early, and I take the robot train to the North terminal, thankful that Trolleys Are Allowed.
As I walk into the terminal, Gen calls, she's just meeting Beth who has arrived with all her kit, and is going to the large objects check-in. The queue to check in is already full, so I join, wondering if I need a ticket, which prompts a check of the envelope of stuff that arrived a while back - yes, there are tickets there, and they seem to want Adam to be present as well at check-in! Fortunately he arrives in the nick of time, and we get a window and middle seat - he's only got 14.5 kg, could have brought the videocam! Our neighbours are impressed by my queueing for both of us and his timing of arrival - if only it were planned we'd be dangerous. The general mood is fairly amiable for a bunch of British queuers.
As I walk into the terminal, Gen calls, she's just meeting Beth who has arrived with all her kit, and is going to the large objects check-in. The queue to check in is already full, so I join, wondering if I need a ticket, which prompts a check of the envelope of stuff that arrived a while back - yes, there are tickets there, and they seem to want Adam to be present as well at check-in! Fortunately he arrives in the nick of time, and we get a window and middle seat - he's only got 14.5 kg, could have brought the videocam! Our neighbours are impressed by my queueing for both of us and his timing of arrival - if only it were planned we'd be dangerous. The general mood is fairly amiable for a bunch of British queuers.The airside terminal doesn't seem crowded, and as we walk in they're already telling us to go to the gate - it's one of the ones in the middle of the airport, with the huge bridge spiriting us over planes and tarmac, right into the centre of the field. We don't seem to be waiting very long before it's time to board, right after I've gone back to get some water, of course. The only interesting thing that happens is one of the ground staff gets locked in on the 'plane, and the gantry pulls away, so we're delayed a few minutes while he is found a ladder or steps and climbs out and down. It's much further than you'd want to jump, and I realise I'd not considered this height before!
And the flight passes painlessly. Am I anesthetised? I read the Media Guardian, rattle off the Quick Crossword, mess with headphones and decide I don't care about Ricky Gervais' film character, before running aground on the rocks of the Cryptic Crossword. I pretend to occupy myself with this whilst taking pictures, eating dinner, chatting in a desultory fashion to seat-sharer Janet, ex-teacher and marriage guidance counsellor, traveller and widow of a year. I don't open my book, hurriedly selected by its reviews, or attempt to listen to ipod music. I do check the GPS on a plane, a first, and yes, we're doing 485mph at 35000 feet! Amazing. And the British OS grid doesn't have a reference for somewhere slightly north of the Canaries, which, when they appear, look pretty uninvitingly barren and dark-rocked, a black moonscape set in a tiny gold and white sand and surf strip.
Getting into Cabo we queue for a visa, because it seems we don't have one, even though I applied for one ages ago on the Thompson website. Nick the rep reckons he'll check for my email and we'll get a refund if he finds one. Right. But the best part is dealing with Beth's kit, which takes up lots of space and is pretty heavy, not to say unwieldy when going sideways across the terminal! It gets packed into the wrong coach before we end up putting it in the trailer behind the minibus for the short Djadsal Hotel trip. The rep takes some convincing, but the nylon straps are sufficiently credible for him to risk putting the boards on top of the luggage. OK room, put on shorts, walk to beach, discuss Gen's rental with Anna, strangely wild-eyed Portuguese girlfriend of windsurfing guy who should be running the booth but is currently elsewhere. Walk down beach to far end and Santa Maria, where we see a wedding party, or is it a carnival pre-event? We drink beer on a deck overlooking a chunky break - the waves just sit up and barrel, lovely lovely pleasing shape you want to ride but for the rocks and harbour wall! The sun sets, we talk about families, and Beth's mum's imminent wedding. Time for food - head back to an Italian-style place, pizza and beer. Huge pizza! Walk back along the causeway, Adam and I grace the upstairs bar for half an hour, then we retire. Tired!! It's 10.30, but really later. Tomorrow eh?
And the flight passes painlessly. Am I anesthetised? I read the Media Guardian, rattle off the Quick Crossword, mess with headphones and decide I don't care about Ricky Gervais' film character, before running aground on the rocks of the Cryptic Crossword. I pretend to occupy myself with this whilst taking pictures, eating dinner, chatting in a desultory fashion to seat-sharer Janet, ex-teacher and marriage guidance counsellor, traveller and widow of a year. I don't open my book, hurriedly selected by its reviews, or attempt to listen to ipod music. I do check the GPS on a plane, a first, and yes, we're doing 485mph at 35000 feet! Amazing. And the British OS grid doesn't have a reference for somewhere slightly north of the Canaries, which, when they appear, look pretty uninvitingly barren and dark-rocked, a black moonscape set in a tiny gold and white sand and surf strip.
Getting into Cabo we queue for a visa, because it seems we don't have one, even though I applied for one ages ago on the Thompson website. Nick the rep reckons he'll check for my email and we'll get a refund if he finds one. Right. But the best part is dealing with Beth's kit, which takes up lots of space and is pretty heavy, not to say unwieldy when going sideways across the terminal! It gets packed into the wrong coach before we end up putting it in the trailer behind the minibus for the short Djadsal Hotel trip. The rep takes some convincing, but the nylon straps are sufficiently credible for him to risk putting the boards on top of the luggage. OK room, put on shorts, walk to beach, discuss Gen's rental with Anna, strangely wild-eyed Portuguese girlfriend of windsurfing guy who should be running the booth but is currently elsewhere. Walk down beach to far end and Santa Maria, where we see a wedding party, or is it a carnival pre-event? We drink beer on a deck overlooking a chunky break - the waves just sit up and barrel, lovely lovely pleasing shape you want to ride but for the rocks and harbour wall! The sun sets, we talk about families, and Beth's mum's imminent wedding. Time for food - head back to an Italian-style place, pizza and beer. Huge pizza! Walk back along the causeway, Adam and I grace the upstairs bar for half an hour, then we retire. Tired!! It's 10.30, but really later. Tomorrow eh?
Sunday, 22 February 2009
Packing, or Why Does It All Weigh So Much?
T-shirts, surely they weigh nothing? I am amazed by the weight of stupid cables and chargers, and even more so by the sheer mass of sun-tan lotion! What's it made with?? I'd have thought Titanium Dioxide would have been light, after all, titanium watches are. I even threw out the heavy heavy but solid sandals in favour of flip-flops.
Packing matters slightly off-set by the hospitalisation of Jen's dad, Paddy, who was wheeled off to the RBH late last night with very low BP (80/40!!) and lower chest/diaphragm pain. He's had a comfortable night on his saline and anti-bi drip, and Jen's gone in to supervise the moving from A&E to a ward. Picking her up at 2.30 this morning didn't improve the wakefulness either.
Saturday, 21 February 2009
Ah, shopping!
Pootled over to Bray Lake, forgot to take any pictures of the mellow near-spring sunlight across the lake, spilling over the wooden cabin... Nice trip on the R1200GS though.
Ended up getting an ONeill shortie, they only had the super-stretchy one (Gooru) in S, so no confusion or decisions required! Checked out their shorts and things, but went with a shortie. I now find I could have got it £20 cheaper with planning and mail-order, but then you can't try it on can you? Still, works out at £5/day, even if I burned it after the trip, so that doesn't seem bad.
I also toyed with a pair of Oakley Water Jackets, but since they were £160 even after a stonking discount, I decided it was better probably to eat on the trip instead. I'll use the £2.99 Dunlop ones with a bit of elastic round the back, so when they inevitably bite the dust/sand/sea/airplane seat I won't care. Har har.
It's about time...
OK, it's been 2 years since I last went somewhere hot to windsurf, and now there's only Sat and Sun to go before it's off to Cabo Verde at 6 on Monday. The Green Cape! It's actually nothing of the sort, at least on the island of Sal where the windsurfers go, where it's basically sand. Hey, if I wanted culture I'd go to a mushroom farm, right?
Preparations - cash, gear (renting kit, so only personal stuff, but that's enough), cameras and things, some first aid things... Going to the local shop to see if they have some lightweight wetsuit-like stuff, maybe some neoprene shorts or even a shorty wetsuit, since it looks like it's not actually that hot - 20-23c, which is like a reasonable UK summer's day. Eek! Exciting!
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