Plus, Glow Worms

So it turns out surfing is as awesome as everyone says. I'm learning at Raglan, home to the world's longest left-hand break, where children learn to surf from the age of five. In gym class.



It's tiring as the dickins, though. For every minute you spend standing on your board (assuming you catch every wave you try, which is a laughable assumption at this stage in my surfing career), you spend about five getting out there. But this ratio only applies to a tiny slice of intermediate surfers, because beginners will fall over more often than not, sometimes after riding a third of the way back to shore, and better surfers are going to both go farther out and be more selective about waves. So expect to spend a good ten to fifteen minutes slogging through water, fighting currents and crosscurrents and waves. And as you get deeper, not only does the water pull harder at more of your body, ever taller waves batter you until you have no choice but to throw your board in front of you, jump, and hope you'll ride it out and not take another body blow. It's pretty awesome, actually-- like hiking, football and wave mechanics up and had a baby together.

Once you get out as far as you can/dare, you turn your board around and wait for a wave. When you see one 5-10m back, you hop on your board and start paddling. Moments later, the coming wave lifts your board and you start sliding forwards down the breaking face of the water. Now you have to (smoothly, mind you, or it's game over and a face-full of brine) lift yourself up and pop up to your feet, with your weight low and centered on your front foot which is in turn just in front of the board's center of balance. But once you start getting the hang of all that, it's wonderful. Nuts to the pow pow gnar gnar (snow, you know I don't really mean that)-- there's a beautiful, intuitive interaction between your mass and the wave. If you feel yourself getting a bit bogged down, you just shift your weight a bit forwards, in front of the wave's crest. The idea is to be going downhill always.

It's like snowboarding powder, with free feet and a constant intuitive calculation where the variables are your body weight, position on the board, water speed and direction and slope. Plus it's a gorgeous summer day and you're surrounded by attractive people in wetsuits and bathing suits and you're just off a long beach of lovely, fine, charcoal-colored sand.

Incidentally, Ugly, if you're looking for something to do next January, come visit me and learn to surf. There is no way it wouldn't be worth the money.

The other really noteworthy thing about my stay here in Raglan is the zipline at the hostel I was at. It's not a very large zip, with just a rope to hold onto and a flat plastic cone that'll support your bum (or feet, if you're particularly adventurous). There's no obnoxious signage or waiver or anything and there's a tire stopper that will bust you in the chops if you're zipping standing up and don't see it coming (don't laugh too much, it was nighttime). It is beautifully pre-litigious, and it simply could not exist as such in the States.