Another strenuous day in Samara

I´ve been far too busy to keep up my blog. Busy doing what? Well here´s a idea of my daily grind.

I wake early to a quick breakfast of delicious sweet, soft and ripe Costa Rican bananas. They taste so different to the hard, green, artificially ripened ones we eat at home. My breakfast provides me with much-needed energy for my surf lesson. I´m sad to say that I still can´t get up on the board and catch a wave under my own steam, but at least Samurio, my surf instructor-come-DJ, hasn´t seen my backside (yet). The way he is talking I think he´d like to see a whole lot more, but I think I´ll stick to bumping and grinding to his Latino tunes at Ladies Night.

After surf school I prepare a healthy light lunch. Today it will be lush, ripe avocado and sweet juicy tomatoes with local cheese. In the afternoon you´ll find me chilling on the beach, finishing the day with a long walk along the crescent shaped bay, whilst listening to the sounds of The xx and Beach House (courtesy of my lovely Fairhaven neighbour Pierre).

At one end of the stunning, palm-fringed bay, I´m welcomed by surf-fishermen, who catch fish whilst wading waist deep in the white foam of the surf. Sometimes the Pelicans beat them to it, deftly swooping in for the catch of the day. At the other end of the beach, buff Costa Rican guys play soccer as the sun sets. I tend to linger here a little longer than perhaps I should.

Yesterday evening, as the deep orange sun set into the water, shining like a crystal ball, it made me wonder what the future holds. I was listening to John Lennon "Imagine", which reminded me of my childhood; Mum played it all the time. With her gone, I am free as a bird. Words cannot express how sad I am. Sad that I can´t ring her to tell her about all my amazing adventures. Sad that I can´t write her a postcard from every exciting country I visit. Sad that she won´t be there to welcome me at the airport on my return, and most of all sad that I may never see her again.

Despite the sadness, I feel an overwhelming sense of joy and hope. Joy that I am so blessed to be here in Samara, experiencing the beautiful beaches, the pleasant people and the overall feeling of tranquillity that permeates this sleepy seaside town. Joy that I am free to explore the world. Hope that I think somewhere, somehow, both my Mum and Dad are together again, looking down on me, happy for me. For every tear I cry, I smile and laugh a million times more. Where better to deal with grief than in Paradise?

Pura vida.

Vic x