Making Friends With The Neighbours

I haven't written much on my blog this year. I've wanted to but the stories didn't seem to flow from my brain into words on the screen the way I've always found they have. It's not writer's block because I've been writing lots of other things in other places, so perhaps my word count got used up. Or something. I don't know. But I think about it a lot because I really love writing this blog. Actually, I really love writing. But I have a couple of stories I want to share from today and last weekend, so I'll write them up over the next couple of days. In the mean time, how beautiful is Aotearoa!!

It's not summer here anymore. The days are getting shorter, the mornings are crisp and tonight... tonight, I turned on the heater in my bedroom.  To be honest, I've been looking forward to hunkering down in these colder months. I'm on of those people who feels guilty sleeping any time that it's not dark, so the long, relentless, sunny days have left me feeling very tired. Also, summer is always so busy, which is wonderful but I'm ready to stop. I'm ready to spend a lot of time on my couch, listening to tunes, slowly cooking my dinner, which has the added bonus of warming my little house.* Of course, the cold brings other benefits too, the first one being 'waves', the second being 'fewer people'.  (Photo by the very clever Kath Bicknell )

*And with that in mind, all hail soup!

So, today, for the first time ever, I saw someone out in the lineup PULL THEIR iPHONE OUT OF THEIR BOARDSHORTS AND CHECK THEIR MESSAGES! Not voicemail, but texts or emails or social media or the swell report or something. Say what now? He never took a photo, never took a call, but while I was out there I saw him check his phone a few times and it totally bummed me out. I'm guessing that people using their mobiles in the water is going to increasingly become a thing, and I've been sadly trying to comes to some kind of terms with it for a while because one of the things that I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really love about surfing is that it's forced time away from that stuff. Like flying where you can could just sit back and do other things because you can't couldn't check your emails. It's like when I go for an after-work walk and don't take my phone unless I want to take pictures. I ...

So tomorrow I fly west to my east coast, subtropical roots, where I'll be spending christmas and new year and a little more too . I've been away from my NZ home more often that I've been here these past two months, so it's weird to be leaving again, and it also feels a little... weird. As always when I move somewhere new, the word 'home' starts to shift and find new applications, and today I confused a friend when I used 'home' to describe first Byron Bay and then Raglan, almost in the same sentence. I'm not even sure I mean the same thing when I use it for each place - Byron is my heart and bones, but Raglan is where I live and is being very kind to me. I feel a bit bad skipping out on it now just as the holidays arrive.  Home I go. Home I leave. But these last few days, Raglan has really turned it on, as if to show me what I'm about to miss here too. Today was stunning with blue skies, sunshine and a cool breeze. And tonight, to top it...

So, a few weeks ago, my friend Ollie came and stayed. Ol and I have never lived in the same town at the same time, but we've managed to catch up in a bunch of places over the years - in Byron, in Sydney, in Brisbane, in San Francisco! It was so great having him here. Sadly, the surf wasn't really doing much that was tempting while he was staying. It was big enough, but it was full and washy and moving around a lot. Nonetheless, we paddled out because, what else are you gonna do? Also, you gotta keep your go outs up. It really was a mess so there were only a few others out - maybe six. One guy on a fat, red shortboard was getting some waves, but the pickings were otherwise slim. I wasn't so fussed, so I sat wide and paddled for the odd wave, but the faces were doubling up in that not good way, so I wasn't getting on them. I got one, but I was happy just to be out there and cruise. But after a while, the guy on the red board paddled over and started talking. ...

Surfing is always a bit of an unknown. For me especially. I mean, mostly it just feels like a leap of faith that things will work out, and to be honest I still feel amazed whenever I stand up on a wave. Only because, well, it's rally amazing to be able to ride a wave like that, don't you think? And then there are those days when things work out that weren't meant to work out and you think... okay. So, I'm thinking of a wave I got the other day. It was so nice out in the water - long, peeling, clean, 3-4 foot, and sunny. Like, wow. It was kind of crowded though, so I did my special trick of sitting wide and waiting for the big, wide sets to come through - the inconsistent sets that scuttle everyone on the inside, leaving the wave for me. It means I spend time looking like a moron sitting on my own, but it seems to work well enough. At one stage I abandoned this plan for one of the smaller sneaky inside waves that were coming through. I was keeping an eye on the horizon...

On the weekend, I ventured down the coast to meet up with my friend, Kevyn. I've been here for 5 months now, and it seemed as though it might be time to check out places other than my own little corner of Aotearoa. Kevyn lives a little further south, but we wanted to go surfing together, so she kindly split the difference and we met in Takanaki. The drive down is a few hours and a half, so by the time I arrived the wind had picked up and was starting to ruffle the sea. But we grabbed a coffee and Kevyn showed me her favourite spots and we found ourselves a left that was consistent, smooth and had a bit of size. Oh, and no-one on it! The few guys who'd been out there were making their way back in across the rocks, so we had the chance to ask about it... Fun, they told us. Kind of full, but with a longboard, no problems. We had parked beside the weekend campsite of these guys, who'd been cruising there for a few days. As they peeled off wetsuits, we pulled ours on and made ...

Today I went surfing. The last few weeks have been driving me mental with what I've come to realise are dreaded seasonal winds. They're strong and relentless and filled with rain, and they've been getting in my head and stressing me out. As in, I've a constant headache for the past couple of weeks. Over the weekend, however, they relented and I was back on the beach and back in the sea. Bliss! So today when I noticed the wind coming up again, I rushed down to get some waves before carrying a longboard became impossible. The waves were solid and long and fun.* Sets were coming through wide and cleaning up the lineup, so my longboard and I sat wide to keep out of the periodical carnage. The crew out were chilled and quiet. People say hello and give you a smile or at the very least, a head flick. It was mainly shortboarders of course, but there was one other longboarder and a couple of SUPs out too. One of the SUP guys paddled over to me and, as happens a lot here, c...

I decided to work from home today and I was focused and ready to get some runs on the board. But then I saw my friend, Kylie, who let me know there were waves about... So I caved. I spent a happy couple of hours out in the chalky green sea, tickled by drizzling rain and looking back to the green and golden hills and cliffs, and the mist-covered mountain rising from the shore. And the waves sure were fun. They were long and clean and right-handers and I was the only longboard out, so I could get all the ones that the shortboarders didn't want (plus a couple they did) and I was super stoked. I was also really, really cold by the end, with frozen, red hands and feet that I knew were going to itch like hell as they warmed up. Weekday surfs you don't expect feel sneaky and secret. They're always worth the distraction from work. Always. Now I'm back at my table, staring out my window at the tide coming in and wishing I could go back to the beach - wet wetsuit and ...

I’ve been really, really wanting to go surfing. The days when it’s been sunny and nice, I’ve had to work and the days that I’m free and willing, it’s just a bit too wild for me on my longboard at these unknown breaks where I know no-one. Maybe I should feel shitty about not wanting to take such risks – maybe I’m meant to step up - but I don’t really care about any of that stuff. I don’t care if people think I’m lame or afraid or a wuss. I’ve got nothing to prove on that front. The other day I looked and was dabbling in the idea of paddling out. It was wild and big and cold, but the fuller wide ones looked manageable and would keep me away from a total pounding on the inside. There were quite a lot of crew out there, and double that number standing on the sidelines watching – the place is like an amphitheatre, which is a bit daunting. I sat on the rocks and watched and wondered and hesitated. If I’d been with a friend, I wouldn’t have wondered at all. I would have gone out. My friends...

As I told you, I’ve just moved across the sea to a new home in a new country. In many ways, it’s not such a huge change; English is widely spoken, we have a similar recent colonial history set against a significantly longer past, and the north island has a lot of environmental similarities to my own home country. But there’s a lot that is different as well. For example, I know so little of the Maori history, people and culture, the cold is something new to my way of life and thinking, I don’t know where to get anything (what shops sell what?), and the coastal places on this wild west coast are very different to the powdery white sand and the clear, warm water, of the sub-topics I grew up. Here the sand is black, the water a chalky green, there are a lot fewer people (the beach I run on is often empty), and the beaches are buffered by looming hills and cliffs. It is incredibly beautiful and I’m blown away, but it’s still not in my heart. Not yet anyway. So right now, I’m givin...

I have been meaning to write here. I have been meaning to write here about my move to New Zealand. About my little cabin overlooking the sea, about the black sand, the green water, the tides, the moon, the sky, the feather-duster plants, and my embarrassing hesitation to get in the water. I've been meaning to tell you about the day the swell was about 10 foot and no-one was out, about the days it has been tiny and crowded, about how I've already found women to surf with here, how they encouraged me into the sea, and about how I went negotiating a left-hand point break for the first time. And did I mention getting to watch the sun set into the sea from my window almost every afternoon? But despite all my intentions, I've not yet managed to get words on a page, so this little entry and these images will have to do for now. But will some one please bug me about this - I clearly need a push!