A feel-good story...
Picture your local highway on any given day. If
you live somewhere with a relatively dense population, this means
lots of people in lots of cars — all of them headed somewhere that,
while important to the occupants of each vehicle, is completely
irrelevant to everybody else. We only care about those inside our
own automobile.
Humans live on the same plane, but mostly remain within their
own personal bubbles. It’s safe, comfy, and easy to do so.
Yet, when traveling solo, this is not the case. We’re forced to
seek out new relationships in order to live and prosper in a
foreign land. I did this in Panama with the Aussies, and as a
result I was invited to their home for a swell. Here’s why that’s
so valuable to me…
I arrived in Melbin, Austrahlya with high spirits and low
expectations. Despite the promising forecast, I wasn’t putting much
pressure on the waves to produce. This part of my trip was a bonus.
The contemptible cookie before my steak and potatoes.
Out of respect for the locals, I’d rather not divulge much, or
anything, about the wave I surfed. All I’ll say is that despite
conditions not being quite ideal, it was clearly a world class
setup. I had a number of exciting rides and saw many dreamy
numbers go unridden. It was challenging and scary and
wonderful.
So yes, the surfing was good. But that’s not what this segment
is about. The real subject of this story are the people.
From the moment I was picked up at Tullamarine, I was meant to
feel welcome. Not in the way that rich people tell you to
please, feel at home!, while you sit on their imported
sofa and attempt to dissuade your lemonade from inching off the
coaster. A droplet on the mahogany would be in bad taste.
No. It was a throw your boards here, flop a mattress there, and
take this beer you wild cahnt!
The Aussies did make me remove shoes off at the door, though.
The carpet had recently been steam-cleaned.
My Panama pal lived in a woodsy cabana with three of his
mates. One was a brother-by-blood, the other two were lifelong
friends who happened to be phenomenal surfers. All of them affable
as aardvarks.
When not chasing waves, we spent our time sinking beers,
watching Margies and partaking in randomly amsuing activities like
fishing and golf. I find Aussies to be delightfully wanton in every
aspect of their lives.
Despite being halfway around the world in a place I knew nothing
about, I felt like I could’ve lived there my whole life. The
housemates made me food, showed me their town, and even rousted
this little Seppo like I was one of their own.
This type of experience isn’t exclusive to surf, but it sure
seems to happen a lot within our saline society. The reason is
simple: there are waves we strive to ride all around the
globe, but without loads of cash, seeing most of them would be
unattainable. In order to offset the financial burden, we create a
network of people across the world with whom we can trade waves,
knowledge, and sparkling ales.
Then that carbonation leads to gaseous pressure and… boom!
Bubble expanded!
