Surfing in Conil de la Frontera

Surfin' USA by the Beach Boys was playing in my head as the cross between a van and an SUV topped with four surf boards pulled into a dirt parking lot of a gray cloudy beach. I laughed out loud at the irony of it - surfing USA. The only thing USA there was me. The laughter cut through my nervous excitement that had been building for two days. In Spanish, there are at least 3 words for the English "excitement" or "excited"

1. You can be emocionado/a - emotional. "When Ty Pennington moved that bus, it was emocionante"

2. If you aren't really that emotional, you might be ilusionado/a - Illusioned. "I am ilusionada that my family might come to Spain."

3. The third word is more like nervously jittery; thus I told Faby on Thursday morning that I hadn't slept well because I was so nerviosa for surfing.

And with good reason. I had no idea what to expect from the experience. I didn't know what surfing would be like, who would be there, if I'd like it, what we'd do the other 20 hours we weren't surfing every day, etc...

If I had expected anything less than awesome from my fellow surfmates (or little surf gremlins as Andy the instructor called us - I laughed every time!), I was happily surprised. Linus from the south of Sweden and Marius from Norway were very cool. The quted American movies, comedians, laughed constantly, and taught me to "pimp my water". Oh yeah. They both live and work in Fuengirola, Spain a beach town on the Mediterranean coast. Neither had surfed before.

As we got out of the car on Surfing Day One (Friday), Andy the British surf instructor said "The ocean's a bit angry today."

• Lesson #1: The sea has moods. A surprise to this landlocked girl. On Day Two, it was calmer then fierce, and on Day Three, it was confused and a bit mad again. Not quite what I wanted to hear before attempting to ride it on an eight-foot long board.
• Lesson #2: How to go from fully dressed to wearing nothing but a Neoprene body glove without flashing anyone. It actually went well. I have mad changing skills - thank you all those years of changing in the car before ballet.

We learned to wax the top of our boards - so they aren't slippery when you try to stand. Sticky! We learned terms, technique, and how to watch for the waves. We did yoga on the beach :D.

• Lesson #3: Respect the ocean

I've always thought of the ocean in pleasant adjectives: calm, beautiful, peaceful, gentle, relaxing, fun.

It was none of those things my first morning. I got thrashed, hit in the head by my board, tossed, turned, spit out and laughed at by the ocean, which I proceeded to name Lara. Lara seemed to fit it that day and when I name things, it fives me a sense of control and camaraderie. I also dubbed my board "Buddy the Board". A big floaty thing that always brought me into shore. Sometimes laying down, sometimes standing up, once even being dragged by hanging on to the end, but always back to land.

At the end of the first morning, Linus and Marius were cautiously attempting standing and Ellen was thinking about sitting on the beach and watching the rest of the holiday. I couldn't feel my toes and I was miserable. Wetsuits are incredibly warm, but my more feet were ice, ice baby, too cold, too cold.

After lunch, we went back out. I sat on the beach for a few minutes alone before entering again. I watched my Scandinavian friends; I studied how the waves rose, crested, and rolled in foamily. I watched and I saw. I saw the rhythm of it all, I saw how the ocean was much calmer than in the morning, how the tides sometimes came in sideways and were not good for surfing. I recognized the long wall of wave that Andy had described as excellent for surfing practice. And, as when watching Ralph on the trampoline, after watching, I couldn't just watch - I had to join, to be part of it.

Giggling, happily, I ran into the surf, carrying my eight foot board. I'm happy to report that it was fully fun. Over the 90 minutes or so, I learned to take a break when my feet got cold and warm up.

Earlier in the morning, I had thought "I wish I were skiing. At least then I'd know what I was doing." Fortunately, that thought went away as I fell in love with the sea. At the end of Day One, my face, mouth, ears, and skin were covered in sand. I was exhausted. My hair was in ringlets from the salty water. I had cuts and bruises and a blissful contentment that only multiplied with the next two days.