Independent Surfer

Like all birds there comes a time to commit to leaving the nest, taking the plunge whether you’re kicked out or choose to do it on your own, its a mandatory step in life. For me it was basically a combination of wanting to explore and momma bird giving me a good old boot. The leap of faith as they call it, sent me on an aeroplane to Lombok, Indonesia. The first attempt at flight is a 50/50 chance at survival, a test of the evolution in your family tree, as I left home it seemed as though I was able to spread my wings.

Why did I have to be a bird?

After a short 24 hours of travel time with, of course, no sleep on the plane because of my flying anxiety, I was welcomed at Lombok International airport by…no one.

Leaving the airport was a shock, as I took a deep breath of hot, steamy jungle air, this was the first gust of wind that almost blew me off course. Last leg of the journey in a car with an Indonesian guy who spoke no English and of course had no idea where the surf camp was, google translate and google maps came to the rescue, thank you google! 

Arriving at the camp I met a Sweedish Gentlemen by the name of Calle, who is an owner of the camp and a German Women, Diana, who is a partner of another owner. They were welcoming, offered me a cup of coffee, some water and we had a very brief but important touch base and off we went on my first surf in paradise. My arrival had coincided with a rare wet season swell which resulted in my first two Indonesian barrels, at this point I wasn’t just surviving leaving the nest, I was soaring high above the clouds. 

As we got back to the camp it was dark, I was shattered and my host had left me to go and have dinner with his friends. At this point the camp was in between seasons, I was poorly orientated by myself in a foreign country with no one around in the wet season, pouring with rain, with no sheets on the bed, no fresh drinking water, no food to eat and so tired i was barely able to see straight, all of a sudden it was all systems failure and a cry over the radio for help back home. 

I was in panic mode and had ended my first flight from the nest prematurely with a hard crash landing in a foreign place with little to no help.

This is where I would have to bunker down for the night hoping no predators got me. The next morning was rough, as I was licking my wounds I wasn’t able to get out of bed, extreme stomach pain followed by excessive vomiting for three hours, this was really rock bottom.

Emotional decisions are often the worst decisions, leave the decision making up to the logical part of the brain, the gut feeling you have shouldn’t be governed by an intense period of emotions, let this period pass before you make decisions, don’t be governed by your emotions, when your tired, hungry and scared, decision making is a difficult task, let this subside first and go about making a decision rationally and logically. 

In my case I was able to pick myself back up again and set flight spreading my wings and I was quickly back up in the clouds.

I was given this piece of advice by my Father and I want to share it with you. This was the start of my journey and is the first blog post, I hope you will join us on our journey, yes ‘our’, I have been joined by a beautiful bird, Kimberly, and this is a testament to our journey, as you can see my evolutionary genes have served me well and I am not just surviving out of the nest but thriving.    

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