The last time I went surfing
It was our last day in Bali. I wasn’t supposed to be surfing as I had injured my fingers by grabbing my leash during a wipeout, and I’d taken quite a bit of skin off. But the day was so perfect – 2-3 foot clean waves at Kuta Beach, and the water was so blue and inviting. I didn’t even have my rash vest or board shorts with me. It didn’t take long before I headed over to our usual surf hire spot and eyed the available boards. I picked out a 6’6″ pink surfboard that had a pink hibiscus on it and hired it for two hours. Perfect. I taped my fingers up once again and raced into the surf, clad only in a bikini.
I caught wave after sweet wave, gasping with the sheer exhilaration of being pushed along by the force of the beautiful blue ocean. The spontaneity of my decision heightened the pure enjoyment of those two hours. I emerged, reluctantly, at the end of the session, brown and feeling quite intoxicated. It was simply the best five dollars I had ever spent.
Some days, some afternoon, some moments just have a magic about them that you will never forget. Sometimes when you return to the same place it seems different, not as wonderful as before, a bit faded. But the memories live on inside you. This is one of those memories that I know I will look back on with much fondness in my ripe old age – that perfect day on Kuta Beach.
(Addendum: It wasn’t actually the last time I went surfing. On returning to Melbourne I had a paddle one cold early Spring day – I was 7 weeks pregnant, having been very newly pregnant in Bali. But that surf took a lot out of me and I haven’t returned – yet – but I will, when the ocean beckons and the warmer weather entices).
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