Home

June 25, 2007

Home…I made it.

Duarte and I woke up early on Friday morning to drive from Chaves to Porto where I would depart for the United States at 6:00am. I leaned into Jenna’s crib where she was sleeping soundly and kissed her soft brown curls whispering goodbye for the next 12 days. Geninha emerged sleepily from her room to give me a hug. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t make the words form on my lips. There was just too much to say. We carried Marcos from his bed to the car. He said “I am so happy that I get to go to the airport with you.” I kissed him and he quickly fell asleep in his car seat.

Just as we had done on every other road trip around Portugal, Duarte and I eased into easy conversation. We passed the hour and a half drive to Porto remembering the last six months – laughing, questioning and seeking a greater meaning from it all. I was surprised when we arrived to the airport…I suddenly really understood that this time we would not be heading for Sagres or Alentejo or Lisbon or any other place in Portugal. The end of my stay had finally come for me. I was overwhelmed.

I said goodbye to Duarte and held him tight. We had grown as a couple during our stay in Portugal. It was hard to let go. Marcos was confused by my tears. He hugged me and kissed me and promised to be a good boy. I turned and walked away to begin my journey home.

From the airplane window I gazed down upon the beautiful land. It felt good to be so familiar with the country as to recognize places while we were flying over…remembering all the while. The flight was short and easy to Germany. There I would have a 3-hour layover. It was in Germany when culture shock first hit. All around me were stores and restaurants and tons of people from all over the world. I was taken aback by all of the hustle and bustle and I felt a compulsion to buy something…but I didn’t need anything. I ordered an espresso as I did 2 or 3 times a day in Portugal and the girl didn’t really know what to make of my order – she gave me half and half to accompany my espresso which was served in a paper cup??!! I felt as if I had traveled through time 100 years from where I had been living for the last 6 months.

The 7 1/2 hours from Germany to the US were difficult to endure. I sat next to a group of teenagers who had been traveling through Europe with some sort of program. Their comments were amusing… “I can’t wait to get back to French fries.” “I miss Face Book.” “I’ve missed so much…2 girls from my school got tattoos while I was away.” “Toilets in Europe are disgusting.” And on and on.

When I arrived, my ride was late. She had had car trouble on the way. I was so tired. It had been 32 hours since I had last slept. Finally, she did arrive and we talked about life in Europe through the duration of the 4-hour trip home. She too had lived abroad for a few months. We stopped at a highway rest stop along the way that had a few restaurants inside of it. I perused the greasy options and found that I just could not bring myself to eat fried chicken, french fries or any of the other chemically enhanced options available. Welcome back to America, I thought.
At midnight, we made it home. It bothered me how familiar everything felt. I didn’t want to ease back in to life here so quickly. I wanted to hold onto Portugal. I wanted it to stay fresh in my memory. At last I fell into my unmade bed and struggled with sleep for hours – waking for the day at 3:30am.

The first day home was the hardest. I called Quinta da Mata as soon as I awoke that first morning since it would have been 8:30am there with the time difference. As soon as I heard Geninha’s voice, I found that once again I was unable to speak as I choked on my tears. She hung up the phone thinking no one was there. I called back and tried again…only that time I managed to croak out my name. While she went to find Duarte, I listened to the sounds that had been the background noise of my life for the last 6 months. I could hear Dona Orlanda talking to Jenna. Jenna was talking her mysterious baby language. I heard the clank of silverware, Filinto’s happy, scratchy voice, the buzzer from the front door rang. My tears were overflowing then. I could see it all so clearly and yearned with every part of my being to be sitting there at the round kitchen table oblivious to what I would someday miss.

After the phone call, I went downstairs to explore our house. Friends had graciously left food and drinks for me in the kitchen. I laughed to myself as I was eating chips and salsa for breakfast thinking about what I would have be eating if I were in Portugal.

I somehow managed to get through the day – but it was hard. The re-entry to life was not so enjoyable without my family. I think if I had been with them, this would have been a lot easier.

Since then I have reintegrated myself into American culture by doing some things that I hadn’t, couldn’t or wouldn’t do while living abroad. I have mercilessly cleaned and reorganized our house, spent time with friends, gone for a nice long run, taken a spin on a mountain bike, shopped at Target, secured a cell phone, and declared war on the mice who have since moved in. My adjustment is slow, but I am doing okay. The time change still has me up each morning at 3:30am – which makes for some long days. I still can’t bring myself to look at pictures from my trip or remember any of it just yet…it is too raw.

Though I miss my family terribly, in a way it feels good that they are still there because it makes me feel that I am still there. I am still rooted there in an abstract way. I want Portugal to be a part of their soul and I want them to continue to know and love such a beautiful culture, such a beautiful family.

Tomorrow I return to work which feels like the ultimate jump back into real life. I will be glad for distraction but sad for the ending. And so, life is…

Last day

June 21, 2007

To have had the opportunity to step away from everything familiar for 6-months has been an incredible privilege and without question, I have been thoroughly enriched from the experience. Today is my last day in Portugal.

Though I am sad to leave Portugal and our 6 months, I am ready to go home. Whether it is a matter of coping or if it is just time for change, we have been feeling restless, irritable and even a little bored. If we were to stay, we would need to make big changes in the way we have been living…less food, more distance from Duarte’s parents, a regular schedule, etc. The kids feel it too. They have been quite ornery lately.

And so, I will leave early tomorrow morning (3:30am) to return to the hustle of real life. I wish I could take my family with me. The loneliness I will no doubt be feeling without Duarte and the kids scares me. I already miss them.

Duarte’s family had a beautiful parting dinner for me last night. I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a meal as much as that one. The evening was festive as we ate outside on the patio listening to music. Dona Elena grilled sardines and chicken and steaks. There were lobsters and platters of shrimp. Fresh salad was served from the garden along with green beans. Susana and I ate two helpings of chocolate mousse for dessert even though there could not have been even the tiniest bit of room left in my stomach. Lipe brought a special wine and Filinto did too. We ate and laughed and danced and drank until it was time to go home.

We have indulged so much…but not too much… Eating food someone else has cooked every meal of every day, has been magnificent. Though I will leave 10 lbs heavier than when I arrived, I am also more fit than I have ever been. Exercising every day for hours at a time has been one of the more unexpected pleasures we have appreciated. Time…the most valuable gift of all. Time to play, talk, sleep, write, read, eat…there just isn’t enough of that in our American life. Months away has also allowed me to see my life differently. I hope to make some changes when I return. It is also nice to see American culture from a distance. I understand things about our culture better since living abroad.

6 months in Portugal comes to a close. The time has passed quickly. And now, with only a few more hours remaining and a beautiful afternoon waiting for me, I am going to go out and soak it all in.

“Te proxima”

Holding on to time

June 15, 2007

In my final days of being in Portugal, I feel an urgency to capture some of the many rare and wonderful moments that we have been experiencing. Through my writing, I want to bottle it up and keep the memories just as I would if I took a photo. Though it would be impossible to truly describe it all. The emotions are complex, the light is just right, the food carefully prepared, there is a sense of freedom, the smell of wild flowers fills the air, the feeling of impending endings… all of this sets the scene for my days as I face leaving for the United States.

Saturday: Duarte and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary. Our wedding took place at Quinta da Mata and it was the most fantastic event. On our anniversary we went out for dinner to a friend’s restaurant. He asked us what we wanted to order and Duarte replied “Well, we are just going to order food as an excuse to enjoy a really good bottle of wine.” The owner said “ahh…then I have just the thing. It’s not on the menu. Do you trust me?” We did and we enjoyed an earthy wine from the Dao region of Portugal. We toasted our 6 + years together and enjoyed a wonderful dinner.

Following our wine and meal, we met up with two of our favorite people Paulo and Patricia (Duarte’s best friend and his girlfriend). We had a fantastic evening in Chaves…walking through the narrow streets of the city center, watching models from a fashion show that had just ended parade through Chaves in their far too skimpy clothing, we drank caipirinhas’s (all of them included one ant) at the “Life café.” Talked and dreamed and planned until we could no longer keep our eyes open.

Sunday: Duarte and I went kayaking on the Tamega river. It was a mellow stretch of river abundant with wildlife. We saw herons and waterfowl and an old mill submerged in the river. Back at Quinta da Mata, we took Jenna for a tractor ride around the farm. We picked a huge basket full of ripe, red cherries. Duarte and Marcos went to see Mr. Bean at the local community center. Marcos loved it!

Monday: The sun was out and it was nearly 90 degrees. Nothing to do but float around the swimming pool to keep cool.

Tuesday: A beautiful day. The weather was crisp and cool. We drove around to the other side of the valley and rode our bikes through chestnut trees and incredibly green meadows. We rode easily for 3 hours and we only got lost once or twice.

Duarte and I went to Vila Real with Lipe and Susana for its annual saint celebration. We had a beautiful evening together sitting in an open café talking and laughing and enjoying fresh fish and a couple of bottles of excellent wine. Once again, these bottles were not on the menu.

Oh yeah, we purchased a few lottery tickets for the huge European lottery to be drawn on Friday night – over 27 million Euros. If we win, we’ll be moving back to Portugal! Duarte has big dreams of starting his own vineyard and producing high quality wine.

Wednesday: Rain, rain, rain. Duarte, Marcos and I went to get our haircuts with our “favorite” hairdresser “Pimpa.” Every time I leave her salon I am surprised at how muddled my requests turn out and my hair. There is much lost in translation and my hair never turns out to be what I expect. Oh well.

Thursday: A break in the rain allowed us to get out for a day of mountain biking. As always, our trek turned into a grand adventure. Duarte’s front tire went flat about 20 miles from our car. We did not have a replacement tube - which is astounding considering he has had about 10 flat tires since our arrival. I was sent to fetch the car. That didn’t turn out to be the best idea as I had no idea where I was, where I was going, nor did I have a cell phone to call for help. On my journey to the car I became disoriented and a little nervous. I ended up stopping at a village to ask directions (note: this was not an easy task for me.) I found a few construction workers who wanted nothing to do with me but after some coaxing finally allowed me to use their cell phone. Unfortunately, I never memorized Duarte’s cell phone number so I could only call Quinta da Mata (hence more Portuguese). I finally resolved to sit and wait. After too much time had passed, I found a nice man who patiently listened to me. He explained that my car should be only one mile up the road. How embarrassing. Just as I started for the car, Lipe came to pick me up. Lipe has rescued us more times than I want to remember from our crazy, epic rides.

Dinner at Quinta da Mata was so much fun. Lipe and Susana joined us along with Tia Ilinha. Tia Ilinha is a cousin of Filinto and she is a nun...a tiny, meek, old nun who regularly wears a habit. She brought toys for the kids. For Marcos she brought toy motorcycles that pull back and when released roll forward. Duarte tried tirelessly to teach "the nun" to make the motorcycle go. She never could figure it out. What ended up happening, however, was a huge motorcycle fiasco as Duarte, Lipe, Marcos, Filinto and the nun all raced and crashed their vehicles back and forth across the dinner table. I think Tia Ilinha had a blast.

Friday: While dropping Marcos off at school this morning, another little girl was being dropped off at the same time. She waited for Marcos and then took his hand and they walked into their little classroom together. Marcos didn't think much of the experience but it was revealing to me as I can see that Marcos has truly been accepted among his classmates.


I sit in the living room at Quinta da Mata writing this blog. I feel anxious….there is so much to do, so much more I want to experience. I will leave one week from today. My feelings are overwhelming. Tears fall easily. I am not ready to let it go. Our plan for the day (which will inevitably change) will be to drive out to Duarte’s uncle’s farm and spend the afternoon running and biking amidst the patchwork of cherry trees, vineyards, olive trees, peaches and almonds. I think this too will be a very good day.

Where are the Veggies? by Sid (guest writer)

May 11th – 20th Where’s are the Veggies? Guest blogger: Sid (the vegetarian boater)

First, much love to Duarte and the family for the first class amazing experience we had in Northern Portugal. I’ve studied abroad in Australia and New Zealand, traveled to Alaska for Fisheries biology, hitched hiked for 22 days in the Hawaiian Islands, spent time in the Bahamas for reef and shark scuba diving, skied in Jackson Hole, Stow, and upstate New York, all for seeking adventure. While all these trips were memorable, this trip to Portugal will always remain a favorite. There were elements of world class untapped whitewater, fine dining, historic castles, world heritage sites, an unexplainable paranormal phenomenon, getting absurdly lost, family love, and of course motocross, beer, and 6 guys in a 4wd loaded with kayaks with nothing to do but to seek adventure.
Besides the companionship and boating, a couple of things that I will remember are: First, I had heard Portugal might be hard for vegetarians. It was true, Portuguese love meat. I survived but only because Duarte and his family looked after my best interest. While I can say I never had a phenomenal vegetarian meal, there was no shortage of extravagant wine and cheese. In fact, there was so much good cheese that I know I raised my cholesterol levels quite a bit. Besides the cheese, I could almost always get a salad, cheese sandwich, boiled veggies, and Portugal’s famous veggie soup.
Northern Portugal still seems to be rooted in traditions and very much family oriented. When visiting restaurants, cafes, or small businesses, the shop owners would inevitably be there greeting, cooking, serving or anything else to ensure your visit to their shop was worthwhile. There were no big business chains, American tourists, or trash littered streets. Little villages away from everything are still very cozy, neatly maintained, and aesthetically pleasing to look at. We hardly saw any run down houses or businesses.
Another interesting thing I noticed was the social aspect of the people we met. It seemed like it was culturally insensitive to meet with someone for say five minutes and then take off. Every encounter seemed to take at least 30 minutes and usually involved a little shot of espresso coffee. It didn’t matter if you were late or going to be late, you still would chat over cigarettes, coffee, and some type of fresh food. There were so many times where we had this somewhat set time to do something but was inevitably delayed because of café and pastries. It was like rush, rush, rush to have time for socialization over café. It was great. Only after this, both of you would speed away like rally auto racers. The stress of business or the rat race didn’t seem to have nearly the same part in their lives as in our culture.
We boated for 6 out of the 8 days. The two days we missed were either due to lack of sleep or the shuttle rig had minor problems. Its hard to say what day was my favorite because they all could easily have been. Each day had a new twist. The first day, Saturday and Wade’s birthday, we boated on the classic Paiva river. With no sleep since Thursday night, we boated and partied with the local boating motocross group until the wee hours in the morning. Yeehaw for the ride home in Octavio’s vintage Land Rover ☺.
Sunday we picked up Craig, boated the Paiva again where he joined the Portuguese swim team.
Monday we boated the Cavado, steep creeking, big drops and big boofs, one of the (if not the) most scenic river gorge we had paddled to date. On the way back to Chaves, Trafford and I made a wrong turn, got lost, ended up in Braga, and had a huge adventure just trying to get back to Chaves as we didn’t know any Portuguese. Wednesday, we boated the Tamega where my boat and paddle tried to run the biggest rapid of the day without me. My paddle survived but my boat (with Craig’s video camera) was terribly stuck under an undercut rock with little chance of getting to it. That day, TJ joined the Portuguese swim team for his hero seal launch line into a house size bolder with pining rocks abounding. Due to an unfortunate sickness to Marcos (Duarte’s son), Duarte’s brother volunteered to take us to an incredible university party in Braga where Da Weasel rocked the party (approximate 20,000 people) until 4am. The party continued until 8am where unfortunately Trafford lip ran into the fists of two guys. Sadly we had to bid farewell to Craig who had to fly back home for work the next day. I bet that was an interesting flight, partying hard with friends until it was time to catch a taxi for the airport.
Wednesday was a recoup day with a nice long scenic drive back from Braga, stopping at Vidago, the small village where Lipe’s wife serves as the city planner. Later, we enjoyed a calm evening in Chaves drinking hot spring water in the center of town, enjoyed an assortment of fine teas at the Shiva bar, and soaked in the night lights of Chaves’s downtown historic architecture.

Thursday we recovered the boat I lost on the Tamega. Later we drove north into Spain and had a first descent of a series tight waterslides that dead ended into a 200 foot vertical waterfall. Later after the multiple runs, I was lost, again. We were supposed to run a lower section but when I hiked the ½ hour trek (mostly of which was done in bare feet because of the extremely steep smooth rock terrain and major concern of a bloat out in my flipflops) into the unknown gorge, there were no boats or friends to greet me. After the hike out, I found everyone at the vehicle laughing at me because they had changed their minds and I had taken the wrong trail down into the gorge. If I had taken the right trail, I would have spotted the group, avoiding the mix up. Later we had the most eventful and entertaining dinners, which were Spanish Tapas. We each ended up riding a coin operated horse (for children), ate the most unusual foods or should I say meats (excluding myself and Susanne), drinking firewater, taking home complimentary bottles of good wine and several beer glasses, and enjoying the owners absurd gestures and comments under the moon lit night.
Friday we boated the amazing stretch, soon to be dammed and under water, of the Tua in the Douro region. This region is famous for its wine production, widely recognized as one of the best regions in Portugal.
Saturday we had plans to take the playboats to the beach but fell through because of the shuttle rig’s brakes not functioning properly. Instead, Susanne and the children and Lipe’s wife Susanna joined us where we enjoyed the beach over beers. The ocean was producing 3 to 4 meter swells which we could only dream of surfing given that our boats were back at the house.
Saturday night we had an amazing seafood dinner highlighted by an evening at a collective artist discotec. The discotec was the 4th floor of a building in downtown Porto. Each room was designed by a different artist. Our favorite was outside in a triangle shaped courtyard under the stars, flowering plants hanging from the exterior walls with views into each of the different rooms with an outside bar specializing in Brazilian cocktails right beside us – Yum.
Sunday we all flew back to our homeland, exhausted but forever enriched with wonderful Portuguese memories. There are not enough words to express our gratitude to Duarte and his whole family for the invitation, hospitality, planning, and adventure that we were given.

What I miss.

June 6, 2007

We are heading back to Chaves from a beautiful week at the beach. I have two weeks remaining in Portugal. At this point, my feelings are mixed about my return to the United States. Leaving such a special place and such a rare and special time of our lives together will be difficult. Since I have met Duarte, sabbatical has been a part of our life plan. It has always been something out there waiting for us…the carrot before the horse. What will be next for us? We certainly can’t live without a dream of our next adventure. While we have been in Portugal, we have lived fully doing our best to fill our days with memories. We have taken time to re-group as a family and to question our reality. I am so thankful for the perspective we have all gained from being here. I hope that this new perspective is indeed helpful when we return to the US. I realize what a privilege these 6-months have been. I don’t think I have taken anything for granted. Through all of the wonder, however, I am looking forward to a few things that are a part of my own culture.

Driving. I’m tired of driving in Portugal. Portuguese drivers are known to be the most aggressive in all of Europe. When I do drive, I drive the huge landrover on roads and streets meant for tiny little European cars. It is a man’s world over here predominantly and women have very little respect – especially on the roads. Even Duarte chides me when I drive. I can’t wait to hop in my automatic Honda CRV and drive all by myself without worrying whether or not I am in the wrong lane or if I am going the correct speed limit or what to do in a roundabout.

Showers. Oh, for a stand up shower! I’ve become accustomed to bathing in a bathtub with the hand held shower attachment but admittedly I waste too much water as I’m not very efficient in washing and shaving and rinsing with only one hand.

My own pillow!! I am a pillow snob. I love my down pillow that I left at home. No longer will I sleep on the huge, overly plush pillow that has left a sore spot in my neck.

My own space. There really is no place like home – even when we are staying in a place that is in many ways better than home. I look forward to my room, our house, our back porch and all of my things.

Control. Friends, you can attest that I like control maybe a little too much. In the beginning of my stay here I had to shed a layer of myself as I reluctantly shed control as a part of my being. I simply cannot have it when I live here. On any given day at any given moment our plan will change without me having any notion of the change. For those who have visited, you know what I am talking about. If we start with plan A at the beginning of a day we are almost always at plan double Z by the end of the day. I have surrendered myself to this crazy lifestyle and to the fact that I truly do not know what is going on. Aghh… I look forward to reacquainting myself with control! I will be able to call a friend, drive my car, feed my children and fix problems.

Communication. Probably what I miss the most is my language. Though I can get by with my ragged Portuguese I can’t truly have a conversation. I miss talking and listening and expressing myself. Language is absolutely integral to truly living. Writing has helped me have a mode for expression but I long for time with friends and family where I can just talk.

Friends. Duarte and I have spent a lot of time together. This time has been beneficial for us but also wearing at times. I can’t wait to catch up with everyone upon our return. As there is much that has happened to us, there are also interesting things that have happened to them. And…Book Club!! I love book club nights.

Food. I am reluctant to say that I am looking forward to any food item in the US as Portugal puts our diet to shame. I eat four or five square meals a day here. Food is an art. The Portuguese have much pride in their cooking. Meals are an important part of daily life in Portugal. With that said, I do have a hankering for a bit of food diversity every once in a while. Because I don’t eat red meat or pork, my meals are always fish, shrimp or chicken. Vegetarian dishes simply are non-existent. I do not yearn for the frozen veggie burgers that are too often our main staple in the US. I do look forward to a thick burrito stuffed with beans, cheese, vegetables, rice, and whatever else. The mere difference in its essence is enough to make me salivate. India Pavilion is impossible not to miss.

Work. I haven’t decided for sure if I miss work or not. I haven’t actually had the pleasure of giving it up entirely to say for sure. Though I have been on a leave of absence, my job is far too complex to truly let go. I don’t miss the daily routine of it all and I dread the stress that accompanies my summers. It will be a cruel shock to go from this easy life to full on summer programming mode. However, in some odd way, it might feel good to go back to what I think I am good at and become a more productive member of society once again.

Chili!!! No, not the food! Our dog. She has been content with her accommodations these past 6-months as she has been staying with her best friend Bristol. She may not want to leave her “sister” to come back to us but we are ready to see her.

I love Portugal. I love our family and I love the way we have lived for all of these months. I think I am able to have such an appreciation because I know that it will have an end. In two weeks I will be home. I can’t imagine what it will feel like to transition back to such a different life – and on my own as my family will come 10 days after me. I am going to miss them…I haven’t been alone in a long time. In the meantime, I will do my best to enjoy each beautiful moment, every delicious meal, uncomfortable showers, my fluffy pillow, our dogless life, my scratchy language and the time with my family.

Another week at the beach

June 4, 2007

As the days dwindle down to the final few, we choose to enjoy our experience as fully as possible. We are in a magnificent little beach town just south of Lisbon called “Villa Nova de Milfontes.” It is a picturesque village situated right on the coast. The buildings are all painted bright white. They have red roofs and the traditional window and door trims are painted blue or yellow. This is the coast of Alentejo. We will be staying here for 6 nights. Thanks to Duarte, our accommodations are once again perfect and a little plush…we are staying in a 2-bedroom apartment, complete with living room, full kitchen, a private patio and private parking. Such an apartment would be way beyond our means in the U.S. but in Portugal it is just right. Geninha is with us as she can’t bare the thought of being without her grandchildren for one second while they are in Portugal. We are having a good time.

There are beaches a plenty to choose from each morning. We have a selection of beaches on the river estuary that feeds into the ocean or oceanfront beaches with dramatic cliffs overlooking them. Many of the beaches lie below a large national park that stretches up and down the coast so the access is more challenging and there are few tourists. The river estuary is nice as it is only a ¼ of a mile from the ocean but the water is more calm and nice for the kids to play in. Oceanfront is excellent as the water has waves and is nice for the grown ups to play in. Duarte and I are equipped with surf kayaks, sea kayaks and a surfboard. Oh, life is so good. With a babysitter – Geninha – we are able to get out and play and the water temperature is just right.

Portugal isn’t overdone really in any way. Even with hordes of tourists along the coast, there is no mass production of anything. Franchises and chains are rare. Every restaurant is unique with its own personalized dishes and every bar has its own unique flare. I love this about Portugal. We enjoy long lunches in open cafes under umbrellas sipping sangria, eating olives (what else?) and eating whatever the speciality of the house is from grilled shrimp, fresh fish or snails cooked in a garlicy sauce. (Note: Jenna loves snails!) The kids nap in the afternoons tired from sun, sand and water. We either nap with them or get out for a run along the high cliffs overlooking the grand ocean or cruise the river in our kayaks. At night, we walk from our apartment to one of the local hot spots “budha bar” or “bar blue” (which actually aren’t so hot at this time of the year. It is still the low season for tourism. Wherever we go, we are sure to find a flurry of local color. Those living here are out and about as abundantly as the Portuguese and British tourists who are also here. This vila has 4000 residents in the winter. In August there will be 60,000 tourists visiting this beautiful place!

I had another surf lesson and felt quite validated when the instructor watched me ride the first wave and proclaimed that I didn’t need a lesson. He said that I needed to go buy a board and surf some more. Well…ok!! Marcos benefited from a surf lesson as well. He stood up with no trouble at all with the very first wave he caught. He made my day when he beamed up at the instructor after his ride and exclaimed “THAT was GREAT!!” The instructor asked if he wanted to do it again and he said “YEAH!” We have another surfer in the family.

I think we need to start playing the lottery and move to the beach