the water to join another guy, a slim reed topped with elegant dreadlocks, on the shore. Both wear baggy board shorts and are illustrated with tattoos.
A third surfer gets up from sitting on the sand, where I couldn’t see him because of the tall grasses. He sprints toward the water like there’s something great waiting for him in there, and he launches himself onto his board. His strong arms paddle him outward quickly, and when he sees a wave forming, he heads right for it. With some graceful, physical magic I see but can’t figure out, he leaps up on his board. He’s tall with a lean, muscular build, and his moves are beautiful. Smooth, perfect balance. Even from here, I can see him smiling, beaming away, like this is what he was made for. This guy and his board and the wave are all in harmony. At the end of their dance he glides toward the shore like he doesn’t have a worry in the world.
For a moment, I’ve forgotten everything.
I want to watch him do that again, but when he’s done, the three start packing up and heading toward me, so I walk quickly back to my tentalow.
Wow. He looked so free, that guy. Is that what surfing does for you? I don’t know if I’d feel that way while trying to stay on a board that’s on a fast-moving wave. But while I was watching him, his joy was infectious. I felt like everything heavy about my life fell away.
“DID YOU HEAR someone screaming last night?”
I blush as I climb the stairs to the veranda at the main house and overhear Brigitte’s question to William. I guess my spider-inspired shriek was louder than I thought.
“ Buenos dias , Kate,” says Juan, the manager. “How was the tentalow?”
“It was actually fun,” I say. “I really liked it.” I’m not sure whether that’s true because the waves sang me to sleep last night or because I’m proud of myself for doing something new. Or, should I say, New Kate. This trip is already taking my mind off of Daniel, the lack of proposal, and all the other things I’ve always wanted that aren’t happening.
I grab a freshly made mango smoothie and join Brigitte, William, and Nicholas at the communal table, where I meet the other surf camp guests. Lila, Krystal, Lucene, and her sister, Allegra, are all from Texas. They’ve arrived pre-tanned and have French manicures. They excitedly tell us they’re on a bachelorette vacation before Allegra’s wedding. Sitting next to me are Dean and Jamie from Ohio. They’re here, they explain as they snuggle into each other, on their honeymoon.
My smoothie suddenly tastes like sludge. Our group, the people I’m going to be spending my first post-breakup week with, consists of a bridal party, a pair of newlyweds, and my married friends and their kid. Fate, are you trying to kill me? I thought coming here would help me forget my new soup-for-one status. Now I have to watch Jamie ooh and ahhh over Allegra’s huge, disco-ball sparkly engagement ring, while the three bridesmaids, two of whom are wearing wedding bands, coo over little Nicholas. Our group is the evolution of relationships, with Brigitte and her family in the most evolved slot and me as the primordial ooze. I wonder if it would be wrong to get a shot of vodka in my breakfast smoothie. Yes, that would be wrong. I need two shots.
“Hey, everybody, welcome to Surf Camp!” One of the guys I saw on the beach this morning, the dude with the curly red hair who’s built like a football player, comes over and greets us with a big smile. “I’m Randy, one of your instructors. Just wanted to see how you’re all doing and let you know that we’re setting up for your first lesson. Everyone good so far?”
We all nod and tell him yes, we’re doing great. Well, I’m not great, but whatever.
“Awesome,” Randy says. “So we’ll all meet down on the beach at nine-thirty. Cool? See you there.”
AFTER WILLIAM TAKES Nicholas to the resort’s daycare center and Brigitte gets her camera equipment, we all head to
A third surfer gets up from sitting on the sand, where I couldn’t see him because of the tall grasses. He sprints toward the water like there’s something great waiting for him in there, and he launches himself onto his board. His strong arms paddle him outward quickly, and when he sees a wave forming, he heads right for it. With some graceful, physical magic I see but can’t figure out, he leaps up on his board. He’s tall with a lean, muscular build, and his moves are beautiful. Smooth, perfect balance. Even from here, I can see him smiling, beaming away, like this is what he was made for. This guy and his board and the wave are all in harmony. At the end of their dance he glides toward the shore like he doesn’t have a worry in the world.
For a moment, I’ve forgotten everything.
I want to watch him do that again, but when he’s done, the three start packing up and heading toward me, so I walk quickly back to my tentalow.
Wow. He looked so free, that guy. Is that what surfing does for you? I don’t know if I’d feel that way while trying to stay on a board that’s on a fast-moving wave. But while I was watching him, his joy was infectious. I felt like everything heavy about my life fell away.
“DID YOU HEAR someone screaming last night?”
I blush as I climb the stairs to the veranda at the main house and overhear Brigitte’s question to William. I guess my spider-inspired shriek was louder than I thought.
“ Buenos dias , Kate,” says Juan, the manager. “How was the tentalow?”
“It was actually fun,” I say. “I really liked it.” I’m not sure whether that’s true because the waves sang me to sleep last night or because I’m proud of myself for doing something new. Or, should I say, New Kate. This trip is already taking my mind off of Daniel, the lack of proposal, and all the other things I’ve always wanted that aren’t happening.
I grab a freshly made mango smoothie and join Brigitte, William, and Nicholas at the communal table, where I meet the other surf camp guests. Lila, Krystal, Lucene, and her sister, Allegra, are all from Texas. They’ve arrived pre-tanned and have French manicures. They excitedly tell us they’re on a bachelorette vacation before Allegra’s wedding. Sitting next to me are Dean and Jamie from Ohio. They’re here, they explain as they snuggle into each other, on their honeymoon.
My smoothie suddenly tastes like sludge. Our group, the people I’m going to be spending my first post-breakup week with, consists of a bridal party, a pair of newlyweds, and my married friends and their kid. Fate, are you trying to kill me? I thought coming here would help me forget my new soup-for-one status. Now I have to watch Jamie ooh and ahhh over Allegra’s huge, disco-ball sparkly engagement ring, while the three bridesmaids, two of whom are wearing wedding bands, coo over little Nicholas. Our group is the evolution of relationships, with Brigitte and her family in the most evolved slot and me as the primordial ooze. I wonder if it would be wrong to get a shot of vodka in my breakfast smoothie. Yes, that would be wrong. I need two shots.
“Hey, everybody, welcome to Surf Camp!” One of the guys I saw on the beach this morning, the dude with the curly red hair who’s built like a football player, comes over and greets us with a big smile. “I’m Randy, one of your instructors. Just wanted to see how you’re all doing and let you know that we’re setting up for your first lesson. Everyone good so far?”
We all nod and tell him yes, we’re doing great. Well, I’m not great, but whatever.
“Awesome,” Randy says. “So we’ll all meet down on the beach at nine-thirty. Cool? See you there.”
AFTER WILLIAM TAKES Nicholas to the resort’s daycare center and Brigitte gets her camera equipment, we all head to
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