After a short spell on the Gili islands, and a failed attempt at enjoying Lombok, we’re back in Bali where the food is cheap and the people are cheerful. We toyed with the idea of sailing or flying to Borneo or Sumatra to track down wild orang-utans, but it all seemed like too much effort as we’d have to take at least two extra flights and endure bus rides... far too much like hard work. I’ve promised Laura I’ll dye every hair on my body orange and only eat bananas from now on to compensate for not seeing the real thing.
With two weeks to kill in Bali, we’d left ourselves no choice but to buy a surfboard and become proper surf bums. With a meagre budget I went out with strict instructions not to come back without a surfboard, preferably one over 8ft tall – a good size for learning. I was keen for Laura to come along as chief negotiator as I was wary of falling in love with the first (and most probably unsuitable) board I saw and agreeing to pay whatever the shop was asking for it, yet I couldn’t raise her interest in the dealings so went along solo.
The process of buying a surfboard is much the same as buying a snowboard, pair of skis, any sort of sporting equipment in fact. In other words, it helps enormously if you know what you are talking about. If you don’t, the sales person usually picks up on it quickly and goes for the hard sell on the most expensive and ridiculous thing in the shop. This may have happened, but I am not completely sure as I know virtually nothing about surfboards.
I walked away from the shop positive I’d struck gold and sure that Laura would be most impressed. It was only 2ft shorter than requested and 50 percent more than we had agreed to spend. It must have been the canary yellow that distracted Laura from these pitfalls as she appeared genuinely impressed with my purchase. Unfortunately this only lasted until we took it out for a spin and discovered it’s virtually impossible to catch a wave or stand up on the thing. Perhaps it will grow on us...
Adding to Laura’s Introduction to surfing, here are a few new-found afflictions that accompany the activity:
1. On top of having to wear a rash vest I’ve splashed out on a pair of Speedos. I stress these are purely for medical reasons, I wouldn’t want my nether regions grated off by the board. Watch out London fields lido...
2. My nose has become a storage tank for a large percentage of the Indian ocean. Hours after leaving the sea my nose will leak salt water like a broken tap onto anything and everything in front of it.
