Carve Magazine issue 215 Edizione posteriore

"Would you like another cake young man?” It was the sixth cake I'd been offered on the Denpasar London flight. Penniless, somewhat emaciated due to surfing nine hours a day on the cheapest Nasi Goreng on offer, and suffering from what I later found out was blood poisoning from semi-treated reef cuts, I must’ve looked so ill that the passengers onboard the Garuda flight were trying to feed me up! But I didn't feel ill. I'd had the time of my life: Empty 6-8 foot barrels at Padang. Tales of a just-discovered spot now known as Bingin. Solo surfs on the Javan coast miles from anywhere, or anyone. Deciding whether the brown shapes in the line-up were tiger sharks or dugongs. Reef cuts that led to staph, eventually leading me to drag my not very sorry, but slightly bedraggled, ass home. Memories of a lifetime. And nothing a few cakes and bit of penicillin wouldn't cure!
I wasn’t the first, and sure wasn’t the last. It was the way it was. Surf travel was different. There weren’t cheap short haul flights for the (pre digital!) nomads. So if it was Europe, Morocco or the Canaries you drove down. Indo you flew into Bali, Java or Medan and went from there. Earn enough money in summer and drag it out on a pauper’s budget through winter.
While I went south in Indo lured by Bali, G Land and Sumbawa, my mates went north to Nias and beyond, where they found the island of their dreams. I'm stoked to share the story of how they went back in this issue. It illustrates what I love about surfing, and how in the process of chasing our dreams we learn to understand and respect different communities. And how it elicits unbreakable bonds and love for people and places.
Steve
Editor