Trying to Surf

The second thing one does in Durban is surf or learn to surf (The Surfing Capital of World Behind Hawaii, we are told). So I spent a good part of the second day studying the surfers. I got such a rush just watching them that I thought I wanted to dedicate my life to surfing on the spot. The next day, I borrowed Brew's surf shirt and board, and said I was going to show everyone how it's done.

...

So the undertow on Durban's famous beaches matches the beauty and majesty of its waves so I almost got swept into the rough, mussel-coated pier about 250 meters out to sea. Helplessly paddling my then apparently worthless arms in the opposite direction, I inched closer and closer to doom regardless. A moment away from total panic, a tiny blonde boy who was approximately six years old paddled speedily by me atop his board and commenced to expertly surf around me.

Once I'd soaked this in, I was about 3 meters from the mussley wall and inching closer by the moment. I looked up to find a guy doing surf photography on the pier and muttered a weak cry for help, in response to which he directed me to paddle in a slightly different direction and within miraculous moments I was once again in the clear. Getting back to shore was another adventure altogether, but, hours after my initial frolic into those waves, I eventually washed up to shore on my hands and knees with a raw, red belly and declaring that I needed a bit more practice.

Brew said This is the toughest place to learn, Let alone self-teach oneself to surf on an improperly sized board, but You've completed step one beautifully: Learning to paddle. I was thankful for his encouragement.

Laura, Brew and I then went out on that both life-threatening and -saving pier to do some more surf gazing/studying. Emma agreed to watch all the bags. When we returned a few minutes later, Emma said to me, deadpan,

Hey, I was just texting you. Someone just ran off with your bag.

My phone's in the bag, Emma.

Well, thank the Lord for Travel Insurance, is all I can say. Also the good news is that I packed in preparation for a mugging, so I had no important papers or cards in there and only a day or so's worth of cash. So I filed a police report.

It was some very poor, desperate boys who grabbed my bag, I'm sure. Apparently Durban is famous for those, too. I was trying to imagine them rifling through it and seeing my camera (good find), and R200 (also good find), and then, in a small pocket in front, a single almond cookie wrapped in plastic. I wonder how they split that one!

I hope they enjoyed that cookie. It was a good one.

And honestly, especially armed with good insurance, I'm glad they were well-fed that day and for more to come.