On Love and Surfing........

photo: courtesy of photobucket

I’m a control freak. Make that a self-control freak. Okay, an emotional control freak. Some people prefer to control others unleashing a litany of passive-aggressive behavior in order to get their way. Me? I’m more of an eyes-on-your-own-paper kind of girl. When things get too sticky- code for “You’re getting too close to my emotional edges” - I shut down and head for the hills taking my vulnerability with me.

I’m not a coward, though. I push my limits in all other areas of life. I’m the girl, who travels to Mexico for a month, knowing not a soul. I’m the one who left a lucrative job in the corporate world to pursue my creative passions.

So, signing up for Surf School in Costa Rica was right up my alley. It was Winter; I was pale; and I always wanted to learn how to surf. For five days, I stuck close to my adorable, South American Surfing Instructor, Rodrigo, whose shouts of “P-AH-ddle! P-AH-ddle! Get Up!” rang in my ears long after school was over.

On the third day, I had a revelation. As I paddled out to Rodrigo, who was straddled on his board, sitting upright, feet dangling in the water, he gave me the usual, “You ready?” I was exhausted. The muscles in my arms were on fire, my nose running like a five-year old, and the waves seemed bigger that day than they had all week. But, I’m no slouch. I nodded and got into position.

As I lay there on the board, Rodrigo offered some last minute reminders. “Fit W-EYE-d. Bock foot fearst. Then front. Okay? Let’s go. P-AH-ddle! P-AH-ddle! Hard!”

Determination kicked in and I focused on everything he told me. As I waited on the board, face down and ready to paddle, I thought about how bizarre the whole experience was. I couldn’t see the waves coming and I was completely reliant upon Rodrigo’s judgment and direction. It was a total loss of control.

I thought of Rob. Tall, dark and beautifully chiseled Rob, whose deep voice alone could drive a woman to orgasm. We dated for almost a year. He was a Personal Trainer who liked his weed and his workouts – pretty simple. He loved my spirit and the fact that I spoke my mind. He was also a great listener.

“I have a fear of losing myself in relationship,” I told him early on. “I’m not sure I know how to be independent and committed.”

“I don’t want anything from you, Liz,” he said quietly, deep voice soothing my mental chatter. “Just, do you.”

Unfortunately, “doing me” consisted of bobbing and weaving like Muhammad Ali

And Rob was a good opponent, dipping left, when I went right, never doing that hug-thing boxers do when they want to stop the fight.

I tried, but I was terrified. What if I really let him in and actually got used to it? Then, what? What if he leaves? What if I couldn’t function without him?

I give him a lot of credit because he never pushed. Though, sometimes, I wonder if he had pushed a little harder, if we’d still be together, but, alas, we aren’t.

I just couldn’t let go – of myself.

In Costa Rica, I realized that learning to surf is a lot like love. Sitting there on my surfboard, I had to put myself in someone else’s hands. I had to let go and not only trust my instructor, but I had to trust the fact that when the time came for me to ride that wave, I could do it. I wondered how I could lay there, my back to the waves, with no idea of the height or the timing of the oncoming wave, waiting for that moment every surfer feels when the swell of the wave takes hold and challenges you to ride along with it.

Love is just like a wave – it swells, takes hold and the rest is just a ride. All you can do is remember to keep your feet planted properly and your focus on what’s in front of you. Sometimes, you fall – hard. Other times, you find that wave and everything slows down, as you truly feel like you are one with the ocean.

For me, I decided if I can ride the wave of Mother Nature, I can certainly give love a try.

As for Rob, he’s got a new girlfriend. I hear she’s teaching him how to surf.

Rinse and Spin

photos by julia aron

This morning, I said my final “Adios” to LAOra as today is the last day of school. Julia is finished with her classes for the day and has agreed to join me and my surfing peeps on the beach. She’s bringing her camera which is exciting to all as we’re all anxious to document our surfing progress.

I’ve got cramps, a condition not conducive to surfing; It takes almost half my energy to tolerate them – not a good thing, considering I need as much strength as possible to get my surf on.

At the beach, the waves are looking a lot like they did yesterday in Hermosa – a fact that still excites me today – in spite of my cramps. I’m ready to make my last day of surfing here, a memorable one. We do the usual splitting off – Ben, Mike and me with Rodriguo and the others with their respective Surf Instructors. Julia’s on the beach, camera in-hand, excited to take pictures of me riding the waves.

I give her a small wave as I make my way into the water and out to sea. Getting out proves to be fairly simple because the waves have died down for the moment. I paddle over to Rodriguo who’s already sitting on his board, legs straddled, dangling in the water. “You ready, Leez?” he asks, flashing me that sheepish smile I’ve come to appreciate over the past week. I want to tell him that I’m feeling less than 100% and that I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up, but that’s not really my style. Fake it ‘til ya make it, right? “I’m ready Rodriguo!” I say, mimicking his seated position on my board.

And then, we wait.

There’s a lot of waiting in surfing. Some of this has to do with the fact that I’m still an amateur and not ready to take every wave that comes. But, even the others who’ve been here much longer, don’t necessarily take every wave that comes. So, we spend the first hour waiting a lot. I try to catch a few waves, but they don’t really pan out. I imagine it looks like I’m descending down a flight of stairs from afar as I sink slowly down into the water, atop of my board.

Finally, Rodriguo calls out to me to get ready. I paddle closer to him and get into position. He reminds me to keep my “fit wEYEd” as he yells for me to “P-AH-ttle! P-AH-ttle!” With that, I can feel the wave coming up behind me, I try to steady my breath and focus on getting my feet wide on the board.

I’ve got good position and as I stand up to full height on the board, I instantly realize something – this wave is freakin’ HUGE! I am way the fuck up here! Maybe I’m not really cut out to surf, ‘cuz this doesn’t excite me – THIS SCARES ME! And with that, I panic, pretty much jumping right off my board and into the water. Doh!

I don’t even bother to look back at Rodriguo because I know he’s going to give me that familiar shrug of his shoulders, a silent gesture of “What happened?”

But, I’m not off the hook because Ricardo, the Head Instructor, calls out to me, “Why you jump off yer board?” I don’t even bother with an answer. I’m sure it would go over real well if I yelled back at him, “Because I got spooked!”

And like a chorus of hecklers, Carlos, Surf Instructor/Photography teacher calls over to me. “How beeg you think tha’ wave wuz?”

With my palms on the board and my feet still in the water, I lean forward and yell, “I dunno. 20 feet?”

This sends Carlos into a fit of laughter and I ignore him, getting back on my board to paddle back out to the others.

He calls out to me, “Four feet!” And I hear the laughter behind me as I make my way back to Rodriguo.

“You okay, Leez?” He asks, pulling my board closer to his.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just got a little scared.”

He tells me not to be scared, which, of course, is easy for him. He’s only been surfing a million times in his life.

After some more waiting, I try to take another wave. My footing is off and I barely get past a kneeling position, finally slipping off the board completely. The only problem is there are a few larger waves behind me and for what seems like an eternity, I am thrown around in the undertow like a rag doll, swallowing a ton of salt water. The good thing about having a leash is that you’ll never lose your board. The bad thing, that I quickly learn today is that while I’m being thrown around, it is too – pulling my right leg practically out of its socket.

I finally reemerge from the water and get my bearings. I’m a lot further in than I expected. I grab the leash and pull on the rubber tubing to retrieve my board. Mike’s about ten feet away from me and we shoot each other a quick, “Holy Shit, that was intense!” look before we begin the long paddle back out to the others.

As I paddle out, I take stock of my physical condition. I didn’t hurt myself on that last one, but I am completely exhausted. I think I’ll just chill for a bit when I get back out to Rodriguo. My arms are sore and tired from paddling and I feel like I’m not really getting anywhere.

The waves have picked up and they seem to be coming faster and harder than before. If I can just get past the point where they are breaking, I’ll be fine. The only problem is that I can’t. The wave coming toward me is a doozy and I know that I’m going to have to get under my board for this one. I just hope I can hold onto my board once the wave breaks.

I paddle vigorously towards it and as it breaks about five feet in front of me, I grasp my board, flip over and under the water, hugging it close to the front of my body. The wave is so strong that my board lurches upwards, pulling my arms and the rest of me with it. I learn later that, in this case, I should just let the board go, but right now, I hold on as if my life depends on it. Unfortunately, once the wave passes, the board comes back at me with a WHAP! - hitting me in the forehead. More swallowed salt water. Much more pain my body; and the sinking feeling that I’m not even close to reaching the others.

I pull myself together, get back on the board, and do it all over again. This time, I know what to expect and unfortunately, it creates more fear rather than less. As I see the next wave coming towards me, two things cross my mind – the first is the fear that I won’t be able to handle this and that I’m going to get seriously hurt. The second is to Carlos: Four feet my ass!

As expected, it’s more of the same, me flipping the board and getting whipped around like Raggedy Ann. Finally, I get back out to the others and Rodriguo tells me to “Take it EE-see for awhile.” No arguments here.

I must be feeling better because while I’m taking a timeout, the frustration starts to build. I don’t want to go out like this! I want my last day of surfing to be a success. I have to get up at least one more time. And with that, I tell Rodriguo I’m ready to get back in the game.

After more waiting, I’m finally ready to go. With my board facing the shore and my arms paddling as hard as they can, I feel the swell of the wave lurch me forward indicating the point at which I’m supposed to get up. I pull myself up and plant my feet on the board. It’s not a perfect plant, but I’m up and I try to cheat my feet outward a bit. Unfortunately, this screws up my balance and I go down – hard!

After more spinning and lurching, I get above water only to find that the entire left side of my body has gone numb. This can’t be good. I can barely hold onto my board as the waves continue to throw me around. It’s not like the ocean’s going to wait until I feel better. I look out to Rodriguo so I can let him know that I’m done, but he beats me to it and gives me the fingers across the neck sign, calling it a day.

The numbness in my body overtakes the disappointment of ending on not-such-a-great note and as I make my way to shore, I’m not sure what to do. Ben’s already on shore, wrapping the leash around his board. “You okay?” He calls out to me, as I stumble out of the water. “I don’t know. My whole left side is numb.” I say, struggling to hold the board while I unhook my leg from the leash.

I want to cry – mostly ‘cuz I’m scared. But, the numbness is now accompanied by a general pain in my left arm. I do my best to pack my board up, wrapping the leash around the back fins and dipping the front-end into the water to get the sand off.

Julia has no idea what’s going on and while I’m doing my best not to throw myself onto the sand screaming, “Ow! Ow! Help me!” she’s all about taking my picture. The sun is setting behind me and in spite of my pain, I know it’s a great shot. So, I move closer to the water to give her a better shot and give her a phony smile.

When I reach her, she’s all excited. “How was it? You looked great out there!”

I tell her about my pain and numbness.

“Oh shit, girl. Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure.” And I mean it.

Ben’s sweet and offers to load my board onto the van for me. Rodriguo and I pose for a picture and we all pile into the van and head back to school.

So, my last day of surfing wasn’t what I’d hoped it would be, but I loved the experience. And…call me crazy – but I’d do it again.

St. Paddy's Day & Mutlitasking

 




photo courtesy of http://www.acclaimimages.com/


Check out my friend, Matthew's blog about the madness of St. Patrick's Day.  He's a great friend and an even better writer.  ENJOY!!

http://matthewslikelystory.blogspot.com/2010/03/100-proof-amateur-night.html

Hermosa Beach

photos by julia aron

Hermosa Beach is more of the same – black sand and the greenery of the jungle at the shore’s edge. The big difference between here and Herradura is a couple of beach bars that sit on the near side of the beach as opposed to the ones in Herradura that sit on the far side of the dusty beach road.


I’m definitely feeling short-tempered today, so parking myself on the beach for a few hours, is a perfect remedy to my crankiness. We lay our towels on the hot, black sand about twenty feet our so from the tide line. Julia takes off for the water as I settle down onto my towel. The Sun is really hot as per usual and within ten minutes, I’m ready for a dip myself.

I like this beach. It feels a bit livelier, though we’re pretty much the only ones out here. Perhaps it’s the reggae coming from one of the beach bars. The waves are pretty big today and I can’t decide if I’m bummed out or relieved that I won’t be surfing this afternoon.

We spend a few hours on the beach, occasionally moving our towels further away from the water as the tide continues to creep towards us. The third time we move our stuff, Julia laughs, “We’ll probably have to move again in ten minutes.” I think we have a little more time, but true to her prediction, the tide comes in right up to our knees, catching us by surprise and soaking our towels! I’m sure we’re a sight as we both squeal out loud, leaping up to get our things out of the way, holding our untied bikini tops to our bodies as we drag our wet, heavy towels away from the water.

“I’m ready for a drink.” I say, wringing out the bottom half of my towel.

We head up to the Beach Bar with the reggae music. As we do, we’re followed by an adorable chocolate Lab, whose owner is out surfing. We’re not sure if he’s allowed in the bar however, he leads the way as if it’s his place. We order some nachos and margaritas and I’m pleased that the prices are fairly reasonable. Happy Hour doesn’t start for another 45 minutes and we agree that, if the margaritas are good, we’ll have some more.



It’s great, just sitting there, watching the ocean, the surfers and the sun sink slowly into the horizon. I feel a million miles away from Spanish and surfing and my earlier edginess, happy to be with Julia, sipping frozen margaritas.

Early on, we notice there’s an abundance of Americans in the place. Though, they don’t all seem to be tourists. Somehow or another we strike up a conversation with a very nice woman, Rochelle, who’s a transplant from San Francisco. She’s a little thing, probably in her thirties and it surprises me to hear that she’s a big surfer. If her tiny self can do it, I surely can! She tells us about her move to Costa Rica and how much she loves it. Finally! Julia and I have been looking to talk to people who live here and as we spend a few hours drinking and snacking, meeting a few others who’ve moved from the States.

One of the guys, Jason, is a transplant from Seattle. He runs Las Olas, a beachfront hotel just up the road. He invites us to have dinner at the hotel, offering a ride back to Jaco, since he and his buddies are heading that way to buy alcohol for the night. We’re game and looking forward to learning more about life as a local. As we wait for our change, Jason and his people leave the bar. “I guess we just lost our ride,” I point out to Julia, putting the change back into my purse.

Jason comes back into the restaurant as we’re gathering our stuff. “I thought you girls were already outside!” We follow him out and he’s in the lead, then Julia and then me. He’s walking pretty fast and he says something to Julia like, “Ya gotta keep up.” It feels kind of New York to me, but hey, a ride’s a ride, right?

On the way to Jaco, Jason’s friend, who’s visiting from Florida, is driving. We chat easily with him about his plans to move to Costa Rica and start a small construction business. Jason, who was so talkative at the Bar, is completely quiet up front. I don’t mind, but I do find it a little odd. As we enter Jaco, he finally speaks up asking where we’d like to be dropped. “You can just take us as far as your going,” I say. Rule number one about traveling as a female: NEVER let anyone know where you’re staying. We say our goodbyes at the Liquor Store and after the ride, I’m not so sure I want to hang out with these guys after all.

“That was a strange ride,” I say to Julia as we walk through town back towards the School. “I don’t know if I’m really interested in hanging out with them anymore.”

Julia laughs, “I know, right? He was all like, ‘So, where are you girls going tonight?’ And I’m thinking, ‘uh…weren’t we all hanging out together?’ In the end, I told him we might see him out later.”

Whatever. We decide to stay in, cook some dinner and make it an early night. Tomorrow is the last day of school and I want to be ready for my final showdown with the Pacific.

HAPPY Birthday to a truly wonderful soul!

My friend, Todd, is celebrating the big 4-0 today. He’s been a fixture in my life for more than ten years – as a chiropractor, boss, friend and confidante. Though he’s still the only guy I know who can put his hands on me without asking, the best part of knowing him is his friendship. Todd is the ultimate Giving Tree, no lie. He’s more than just a guy who runs a successful Wellness Center in midtown Manhattan, where, on any given day, when you visit the office, everyone is in a good mood. A complete extension of his innate positive energy.


I came to know Todd in the late 90’s, when my voice teacher recommended I see his father, Sheldon, for some bodywork. Sheldon Sinett was a legend of sorts. This guy could pretty much tell what was wrong just by looking at you. And the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree because Todd’s got the same gift. Only his gift goes beyond the physical. Over the years, I started seeing him regularly and he’d always know when I walked in the door whether I was having a good day or a bad one. A true gift to someone like me, who always chooses to pretend everything’s fine so as not to make others uncomfortable.

Todd’s seen me through some rough stuff and not once, did he ever judge, criticize or try to talk me out of whatever I was feeling. For that, I will always be grateful. He’s the epitome of a good soul and today, I want to recognize him and wish him the Happiest Birthday ever! It’s his love and support and sheer goodness that touches so many people’s lives – I can attest to that, personally.

Most of you don’t know him, but in honor of his birthday, why not reach out to one of your friends and let them know just how special they are?

The Best Laid Plans – “Pura Vida!!”

photo: courtesy of www.liveincostarica.com






It’s Thursday and suddenly, I’m very much aware of the fact that our vacation is nearing an end. School ends tomorrow evening and we’re off to Arenal early Saturday for the last two days of our trip. Time has moved slowly here – but in a good way. I feel like I’ve been in Costa Rica much longer than five days; a result, I suppose, of learning so many new things between Spanish class and surfing.

Speaking of Spanish class, LAOra combined Levels 2 and 3 yesterday for a trip to the Supermarket. In spite of her intensity and sometimes abrasive delivery, she’s a good teacher and I’m learning a lot – though it kind of sucks that everyone at school speaks English, not really an environment conducive to applying what I’ve learned! Yesterday, she gave us a ten or so questions to answer (in Spanish) based on our visit to Mas X Menos (translated as “More for Less”), the Supermarket in town.

I was paired up with Tia, a 31 year old girl, from Norway. I didn’t spend much time with her prior to our trip to the market and it was nice to get to know more about her. She works on a cruise ship – what is it with all of these people working on ships, and why didn’t I think of doing that in my younger years? She’s very quiet, almost timid, but in talking to her, I realized, she’s no mouse. I especially appreciated her drive to get to the store before everyone else, so “we can be first and not look stupid asking store employees the same questions as everyone else.”

We made a good team. Julia and I had been to the store a few times, so I knew it well and Tia’s Spanish is much better than mine. In the end, we got in and got out in less than 30 minutes.

Today, Julia and I are feeling the pinch of the final days in Jaco. We decide to skip classes in the afternoon, rent a car and visit Manuel Antonio, a national park located about an hour from Jaco. I’ve heard great things about the place and Carlos, Julia’s photography teacher, showed us some pictures. The place looks beautiful with waterfalls and lush plant life. Oh and there are monkeys too! Julia likes this.

We ask Hannah, the School’s Director about renting a car and she offers to call one of the places in town to get one. Kim’s going to join us as well, which will be fun. I like Kim. She’s very down to earth and quite interesting.

I’m excited to see something other than Jaco, so when Hannah informs us that all the cars are booked for the day, it’s hard to conceal my disappointment. “Well, maybe we can rent from somewhere else,” I suggest. Hannah then informs us that the park actually closes at 3pm. It is now 1pm. By the time we get a car, get on the road and get to the park, it will most likely be too late.
Now, I want to throw something. It’s so frustrating getting anything done here. The day we cut class, we walked around town asking all of the tour operators if there was anything we could do, but noooooooo, everything started at 7am! Grrrrrr. We ask Hannah if she’s got any other suggestions and at the same time, Julia mentions going to the local waterfalls. Hannah calls the tour company to check on that and of course, it’s too late for a waterfall tour too!

I’m not a big fan of tours and neither is Julia, so we ask about just doing it on our own. You’d think that between Carlos, who’s milling around taking pictures while this is going on, and Hannah – both people who live here – somebody would have a cool suggestion! But, they don’t and I’m not feeling inspired to do much of anything anymore.

In the end, Kim does her own thing and Julia and I decide to go to Hermosa, a small town to the north – right near the all-you-can-eat sushi place. It’s another hot one and as we walk towards the main road to hail a cab, we pass a cute looking restaurant/taco stand called Star Fruit – definitely a place to check out before we leave on Saturday.

In the cab on the way to Hermosa, our cab driver doesn’t say much except the token Costa Rican salutation, “Pura Vida.” This saying reminds me of “Prego” in some ways, where the Italians use it universally. Sometimes they say it instead of “You’re welcome.” Other times, it replaces, “Hello.”

“Pura Vida” means the good life and everyone in Costa Rica says it. However, it’s more of the way they say it, that we both find odd. Julia put it the best the other day when she said, “It’s this strange insider thing, like they drank the Kool-Aid or something and they’re all walking around saying, ‘Pura Vida’. Girl, imagine everyone walking around in New York, with this goofy look on their faces, greeting everyone with ‘I Love New York!’”

So, the cab driver’s continuous loop of “Pura Vida” adds to my already irritable vibe. Every time we ask him something, he smiles widely and replies, “Pura Vida.” It’s like we’re on Candid Camera or something.

photos by Julia Aron (except for the one of us!)

Back at the school, I notice our names on the whiteboard by the pool announcing the all you can eat sushi night at 7pm. That’s strange, ‘cuz I doubt Julia signed us up. Maybe it’s a joke since Julia and I are always keeping to ourselves.


When I return to our room, I ask her about it.

She sighs. “Yeah, Carlos talked me into it.”

Carlos is her photography teacher and a surf instructor.

“He said, ‘Why you girls no go?’ He wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’m sorry girl.”

Her attempt at Carlos’ accent cracks me up; in fact all of Julia’s attempts at replicating accents are hilarious as they always end up sounding like an elderly Chinese woman.

I’m cool with going tonight, though I'm still not keen on eating the sushi, however, I’m ready to party a little.

After a hot shower, we'e ready to join the others for the big sushi night. Two taxis take us to a place in Hermosa Beach, just 10 minutes north of Jaco. On the way, everyone’s excited for sushi and Ladies' Night at The Backyard Bar which is next door. Julia and I are already agreed that we’ll skip the Ladies' Night festivities. It just screams of college night and that has no appeal to either one of us.

The buzz from one of Mike’s beers has me feeling pretty good, so when it’s time to pay the taxi, I hardly notice that it’s a lot more expensive than it should be. Kim, who’s with us, points it out and Julia’s not happy, especially because we’re not paying the taxi driver directly. One of the surf instructors, who was on the Crocodile Tour with us earlier, is collecting money. I didn’t like his energy this morning, but I just figured it was because I was cranky. As he’s asking for more money, I realize I still don’t like his energy, but I just want to get inside and keep my buzz going. I leave the details to Julia.

Inside, it’s immediately clear that we’re not at a Sushi Restaurant, but at a bar. Okay. Still not feeling that all-you-can-eat thing, but right now, I’m all about a buzz. Julia seems a bit peeved and when I ask her if she wants a drink, she declines. This is strange because she’s usually up for a drink, but I chalk it up to her wanting to be a bit cleaner on the trip.

Kim and I are chatting at the bar with our beers and I notice that Julia’s not really joining. This is a challenge for me. I know I’m more of an outward personality than Julia, but habit throws me into caretaking mode and I ask her if she’s okay and she says yes, but I know something’s up. I try to prod her into telling me, but she’s clearly not in the mood. I should just leave her alone, but I don’t. I can’t. I feel responsible for no logical reason at all – old habits die hard, I suppose. I continue to ask her things like, “Do you want to sit down and eat? Do you want to check out the other room?” She keeps shrugging her shoulders as if to say, “I don’t care.” Now, I’m frustrated because I get the sense that she doesn’t want to be here and what am I supposed to do? I’m not crazy about the majority of these people, but I wouldn’t mind socializing with them tonight to break it up a little. I can’t just leave her on her own – or at least I decide that I can’t leave her on her own. I’ve never been the person to say, “Okay, well, I’m going over there. You do what you want to do.”

It’s truly the only moment of frustration for me on the trip and I finally say something like, “Look. I don’t know what you want to do here. Clearly, there’s something wrong. If you don’t want to be here, that’s fine, we’ll go….but you’ve got to give me something here.” In hindsight, I realize that as I said, I’m more outward. If something’s bothering me, you’ll know it. The mistake I sometimes make with others is expecting them to be the same way.

In the end, we sit down and eventually, things start to flow. I later found out that she was very upset about the whole taxi thing, feeling the same thing I felt just before surfing – the frustration of the surf instructors and their attitudes.

Me and Kim showing off or long tongues

The sushi, on the other hand, is quite good and we definitely eat our money’s worth.

Rodriguo shows up and it's the first chance I get to really sit down and talk with him. I realize a few things about him. For one, he’s not a big joiner. There’s a shyness about him as well as a bit of a language barrier, which I took to be arrogance. Once again, I’m reminded of another one of my flaws – taking things personally, without all the information. I learn a lot about him:  He’s got a 1 and a half year old son; he loves house music and cooking. I don’t think he’s a big partier because when everyone is ready to move onto The Backyard Bar for Ladies’ Night, he stays behind.

Julia, Ben and me hitch a ride back to the School with Ricardo, another surf instructor. Julia spends the ride teaching Ben all of the Spanish slang she knows which is a far cry from what he and I are learning from LAOra.

Not a bad day today - Crocodiles, Surfing, Sushi and a few life lessons.