This month I ventured down south to Costa Rica in pursuit of warm water and glassy waves. With multiple swimsuits in tow, I turned my back on the heavy snowstorm headed for California and set my site on surfing some of the biggest waves of my life.
We were headed to Tamarindo, leaving from San Francisco on a red eye through Miami when we were welcomed by a cancelled flight due to a fuel tank fire. After bartering with the American Airlines agent to get us on standby for a flight that evening, we decided to hit the beach. Miami Beach that is, mind you it was 5:30 am and I was still wearing my San Francisco winter wardrobe – sweater, scarf and long pants. When we rolled up to the water the sun was just rising, it was calm and only a few people were up from the previous night. We picnicked on the sand, rented bikes, beach chairs and enjoyed mojitos as the beach slowly came to life. Techno music pulsed as swarms of girls in bikinis flocked to the streets; it was like Jersey shore meets MTV spring break. By the time we headed back to the airport I turned to my friend and said this place is great to visit, but I sure hope we don’t have to stay the night. Luckily we made our flight, sans bags. But it wouldn’t’ be an adventure without a few hiccups, they eventually made there way as did all seven friends.
Having learned to surf in northern California, I had always dreamt of what it would be like to paddle without a restraining wetsuit or even a hood and booties. When I hit the water on that first day it was like a cool bath, I slipped around on my board with an ear-to-ear smile, hardly worried about catching waves because I was having so much fun. That smile quickly turned to a serious grin as the competitive Annie showed its face. Being the competitive person I am, I had set a goal for the week – To surf a shorter board on bigger waves. I had previously only long boarded and was eager to make the jump. As the week progressed I not only rode, but got barreled by some of my biggest waves. My life changing “I can call my self a surfer” wave was at little Hawaii, just south of Tamarindo, where I caught a long right and it kept accelerating. I was half scared and half stoked that I kept making it out the other side. I paddled back out to the boys with big grin and unforgettable boost of confidence.
For someone who rarely sits still, not much is different on vacation. I relished the opportunity to disconnect from my technology driven lifestyle back home and live in the moment with the people around me. My only obligation was to surf, eat, sleep and do it all over the next day. We rose early with the sun, surfed until we were either too beat to paddle or too burned to bare the sun any longer. We were a group of overgrown children, happy and content playing in the water, cracking jokes and pushing each other to get better. I got much stronger, confident and acquired a nice golden tan. I surfed twice a day, every day, except one when we decided to take a break and visit the jungle. We zip lined through the lush forest, tubed the river and rode horses to a waterfall that we jumped in. It was my first time on a horse and somehow I managed to get it to gallop or race away from the pack, I will admit I was slightly scared.
We wrapped up the week with an epic Sunday morning group session at the river mouth. I caught tons of waves as we raced the clock before heading to the airport. As we went through customs and awaited our departure, we wondered how long the buzz would last, if it would out live the golden tan we were wearing.
Highlight Video from an epic week of two-a-day surf sessions in Guanacaste Costa Rica.
As I sit back in wintery wet San Francisco, dreaming of warm water, coconuts and golden sunsets, I am struggling to muster up the nerve to plunge back into the icy cold water. Although I am dying to get back out, my 5mm wetsuit is not. Until next time, I will miss la pura vida – the good life.
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