Around The World In 80 Waves

After the latest round of days wasted sweltering in the heat trying to sort out the sort of crap IT problems I came on this trip to escape from, I have sorted another local SIM card for my phone.

The number should you want to ring or text me is +506-8498-0952.

Hopefully I can get on with having more fun for at least a few weeks now, but I’m not holding my breath because my phone and computer seem to just take it in turns to disappoint me, are now completely unwilling to communicate with one and other, which is just putting me in a bad mood all the time. It is too boring to detail but I came close to jacking in the blog a few days ago after having had enough of it.

(I’m not really expecting much in the way of sympathy on this by the way!)

Tamarindo is as much a party town as it is a surf town, but I haven’t been out apart from the first night here because I have been so tired after two surf sessions each day and the on-going IT battle in between.

As you can see here there is much to keep a gentleman amused, so I am even more annoyed by the IT battle which is taking up so much of my time.

I finally make it out on Thursday only to find that the town is not serving booze because it is Holy Week.

Doh!!!

There are no shortage of bikinis on the beach either!

Walking around would easily put a huge a grin on my face were it not for the howling wind blowing so much dust into the air that I would be eating grit if I dared show my teeth.

I have enjoyed my stay here bagging a few great waves at the various beaches I have visited.

Access to a fridge in my little cabana has been a blessing too, even if there was no air conditioning to keep me cool.

However as ever it is time to move on again and I am heading south down the peninsula. Not before I make myself a cheeky fry up though!

Late in the afternoon I take the family over to Playa Grande from Tamarindo. We take the option of the 40 minute drive there as opposed to the one minute paddle across a crocodile infested river mouth followed by a 20 minute stroll down the beach you see here. I paddle straight out and catch two great shoulder high waves, one left and right. However when I paddle back out I am faced by a frothing mouthed local youth who is going bezerk. I’m not easily intimidated and being my size helps, but this kid is seriously pissed apparently because I caught something he felt he should have had, which was bullshit by the way.

He is raving right in my face, yelling that I don’t show enough respect, shoving my board, throwing water in my face and stating that he is now going to prevent me catching anything else there. This may sound quite intimidating but like most Central Americans he is tiny so the scene is like a Jack Russell terrier trying to pick a fight with a Grizzly Bear, all of which I find quite amusing and am grinning in his face telling him he needs to grow up. However this only serves to send him into orbit like some sort of Tazmanian Devil and he is doing everything bar swinging a punch. (Wisely I hasten to add – I was just going to sit on him in the water and see how he coped without air!)

This is going on for about 10 minutes and I later discover that everyone is laughing at the scene behind me, as he is suggesting we go into the beach to get into a ruck. Tempting as this was I declined pointing out his immaturity once more, but was glad when Doren had exchanged child minding duties and paddled out alongside me albeit completely unaware of what was going on because it gave me a bit of support. The kid still took one last opportunity to surf directly at my head before wisely retreating. Despite the ravings of this local loon I still caught a few more and had a great time there before driving the family back to Tamarindo after the sun had set.

I am up early and meet up with an American surfer called Harry I had met here and went off on a surf safari to try and find some bigger waves. Our route took us 18km along a dirt road towards Playa Avellana, which was at the limit of where I am comfortable with in the little green surf machine these days. Along the way we get a shakedown at a police road block and they are licking their lips when they discover I am not carrying my driver’s license (I had left it locked in my cabana rather than risk it getting nicked from an unsecured car while I was in the water) or my temporary importation documentation. Despite many threats of massive fines and the car getting confiscated, which are clearly attempts to exact a bribe, we stonewall them. They say they are phoning the traffic police to come and really cause us some trouble but I can see the ‘telephoner’ miming into his telephone so still don’t offer anything saying I will pay the fine if it is necessary at the police station. Reluctantly and empty handed they let us pass, but NEXT TIME…!

After all that we rock up at the beach only to find it is looking very naff. We paddle in more in hope than expectation at the only peek we can make out along the huge sandy beach. However I am pleasantly surprised by what we score though and catch a hat full of fun rides going left and right on the chest high waves that the howling offshore wind is still doing everything it can to spoil. The water is surprisingly cold, but I am staggered to see locals joining us in the water wearing wetsuits. One paddles up to me to ask why I am not cold in my shorts but I can only offer that the water in Wales never gets close to being this warm! Personally I can’t figure out how he could bare to be in neoprene in this relentless heat.

After a quick drive to Tamarindo, I help the family move hotels before diving in with round eight of the latest battle with my failing IT. I am getting so ticked off with it in this heat that I was about to jack it all in so that I can just focus on my holiday rather than this never ending frustration which keeps putting me in a bad mood. That I am typing this means I won another short term victory in this on-going war!

After a day of tearing my hair out once more at the all too frequent IT issues I’m experiencing on this trip I meet up with the family and drive us all down the dirt road to Playa Langosta which is just around the headland, but more exposed to the swell as a result of that. Doren is on child minding detail first, whilst Micheala who is two months pregnant grabs their board and paddles out with me. From where we have parked next to an exclusive resort we have to cross a fast moving stream to get to the break on the other side and I have a moment of mild panic when I think I have lost the pregnant lady to the strong current. Not to worry however because Micheala has just been washed out past me and then proceeds to catch about four waves before I have even caught one!

The wind is still howling offshore and paddling for a wave feels like people are throwing buckets of water in your face. It also blows the front of the board up making getting onto the waves quite difficult. I did bag a few shoulder high waves though, and this picture would suggest it was far better than it actually was.

Doren paddled out after the baton of child minding had been exchanged and the two of us enjoyed the fact that we could actually catch something unlike the session we had experienced at the start of the day.

Not the best surf again but the break gets a special mention for the sunset we were surfing under.

We all head back and after dropping off the others I spend the evening cooking for two Danish girls staying at the same place as me called Mie & Line who are skint. I had stocked my fridge with supplies and was glad of sharing them with the two teenagers, because I could never eat all the fresh stuff I had bought to ensure I enjoyed a decent home cooked meal for the first time in ages. They also liked the taste of some European food even if it did take more than two hours to prepare due to the crap electric stove in the kitchen here and the power cut we experienced half way through cooking!

I am seconds from the beach and grab my board first thing in the morning to go down there. It is still massively windy, but it doesn’t really matter because the surf is appallingly small. I almost feel guilty claiming this as one of my waves because I only actually surfed one wave and that was for two seconds at best. They are clean waves and the wind is offshore but if they were as big as a foot I would be amazed!

On the positive side I had met a bloke from Vancouver (there are Canadians everywhere in Central America) called Doren as I walked down for this epic session and after telling him about my journey the two of us have a laugh in the ‘surf’ and I am using that term as loosely as I can. Doren has work to do and I’m not sticking around for long so we get out, and I’m introduced to his wife Micheala and their two lovely kids as we walk back up the beach.

We arrange to meet up later and try another beach which should be more exposed to the swell on offer at the moment.

It is a really windy day on my way from Nicaragua to Costa Rica. This is all well and good for the wind turbines lining the shores of Lagos Nicaragua as I drive towards the border, but once past the lake it is resulting in never ending dust blasting through my open windows from the open plains.

At the border I drive past the usual line of trucks to the front of the queue. I’m not sure why this is acceptable but apparently it is so I go with it. As usual I am set upon by hawkers offering to exchange my cash or help me through the border process as soon as my car slows down. My polite ‘no thanks I’m good’ is rarely enough at the first time of asking, and I have to brush them off as usual, generally by breaking into a quick walk towards one of the official buildings, where sooner or later I figure it out.

It is the same painful process as usual, queues, paperwork, paying municipal tolls, thinking you have it all done only to get turned back right at the end on some grail quest for a certain stamp or piece of paper. The thermometer in the car is registering above 45C for the whole process and I am glad to be heading into Costa Rica after the two hours suffering in the heat at the border.

Almost immediately there is a police checkpoint, but they are very polite and only want to ensure that everything is in order. The car gets searched, but there isn’t anything to find and I am sent on my way without issue and arrive in Tamarindo about an hour or so before it gets dark giving me plenty of time to find a place to stay.

I get a cabana with a kitchen 20 seconds from the beach but turn down the first one I am offered because some ants seem to be using it for a party and there was a parade going on across the pillow I was supposed to be sleeping on. The ants are each twice the size of anything I have ever seen in the UK so unsurprisingly I don’t fancy sharing my bed with them.

I go out for a few drinks and to check out the town.

Costa Rica has become quite the darling of the surfing world in recent years because it has surf on both coasts, excellent climate, political stability and a gorgeous climate.

There are loads of surf camps and gucci surf resorts here so I have allowed myself a few weeks here and am hoping to score some epic waves along the way. Time will tell if I get what I am hoping for.

I still have to have one eye on getting quickly to Panama, but because so many of my friends have been surfing here and always come back with good reports I am keen to make the most of my time here to build up my tolerance reserves before the administrative nightmare that will be waiting for me when I try to sell the car in Panama.

There are a lot of Tuc-Tucs in use throughout Central America.

Most have not been modified more than a bright paint job.

However I saw this one while driving through the Honduran border which had me chuckling away and was a welcome relief to the overpowering heat.

The picture was taken from a moving vehicle so please excuse that it doesn’t capture the whole of the vehicle, but check out that spoiler.

He is going to need that down force I’m sure! Maybe he wants to wheelie the thing?

On my way to Costa Rica I drive back to the main road which runs alongside Lagos Nicaragua, which is the largest lake in Central America and used to be part of the Pacific Ocean until some seismic event a long while back.

Over the last millenia or so this has resulted in evolutionary developments unique to the body of water, such as the fresh water sharks that live there.

I would love to be able to spend some time here but the road south is always calling me along  this leg of my travels.

I do stop for a while on the shore though to check out the Isla de Ometepe which is located in the middle of the lake. It boasts the two volcanoes, Concepcion and Madira which you see here