Inside Out in Carcavelos
A full-body smack and cycle in Mother Nature’s washing machine initiated a rough start. After paddling out about 100 feet through the crashing waves, I situated myself surrounded by other surfers. Catching my breath as I was quite out of surfing shape, I started paddling again because a wall had started to build larger than I had ever needed to make it over, and before I knew it, it was starting to crash in front of me.
If you don’t make it over the lip before the white water hits you, you simply have to hope for the best as you find your way through it. My hope ran out when the lip clipped the end of my board and sent me through the cycle, tossing and turning a few feet under the surface. I found myself panicking as I could not feel the sand below nor the surface above, but when Mother Nature gave me a break, my feet below propelled me to the top. I gasped for air as if I was under the water for 5 minutes. I took some dramatic breaths, looked around, grabbed my board, and found my way back out, just this time shorter on breath and quite more fearful.
Surfing in Portugal was one of the most surreal experiences I was ever so blessed to have. But it was also one of the hardest. I am not a beginner surfer but I also am nowhere near an expert so surfing somewhere new had me intrigued but also quite intimidated.
I arrived in Lisbon to visit a friend studying abroad there with the intention of surfing in Portugal because it is known to be one of the most beautiful and exciting places to surf in the world. My friend and I trained to Carcavelos beach, and followed a path of sand framed with tall grass to the water. Carcavelos, on the coast of Lisbon, is known for its strong waves and busyness. We blended ourselves among the sounds of laughter, waves crashing, and skateboard wheels roughing the concrete strip parallel to the beach.
I made my way to the little shack with friendly faces behind the wooden desk were a plethora of wetsuits on a rack and used boards being rinsed off. There I was able to grab my rental surfboard and wetsuit I had reserved online. Soon I was trekking my way through the cold sand with bare feet and a 6 '6 wood-finished board on the side of my body filled with excitement and the inability to believe that life was real.
Surf culture is something quite special I have come to understand and appreciate throughout the years. When one has a love for surfing, there comes a love for the simplicity of life and nature that is somehow underlyingly shared. I’ve never had an easier and happier conversation than with someone who surfs. With a laid-back, carefree outlook on life, it comes easy to start a conversation with a stranger that you know has something in common with you. So I knew paddling out, that even though I don’t speak Portuguese, I would be able to make a friend.
After dancing with Mother Nature I was skittish and scared to attempt at a wave that was going to have me in a spiral again. So I merely watched, paddled against the tide and over the high peaks just taking in the breathtaking formation of rocks to the right of me and the endless water and surfers to the left. The sun was overcast by a thin blanket of clouds above and the wind was quite minimal. An old man paddled over to me and said something in Portuguese while pointing at me. I panicked without the knowledge of languages beyond my own saying I only speak English. But he replied with a smirk and chuckle, “I speak English as well.” We shared a laugh among the waves and he repeated himself this time in English, “ Did you know your wetsuit is on wrong, or is that a little joke you play?”
When I tell you this was the most embarrassing I have ever felt, it was. I was so excited to get out into the water that I put my wetsuit on as fast as I could and neglected to realize that my black wetsuit said “INSIDE FRONT” in bright white writing across my chest. And I had gathered weird looks while I was out in the lineup but I merely thought it was because I was the only girl.
Naturally, I laughed and replied with the fact that I was too excited to get out that I didn’t take time to even look at it. We shared another laugh and he started to make conversation as one would. I hoped to learn about him more than I wanted to talk about myself. When he heard I was from Massachusetts he smiled, “My wife is from Connecticut.” He was born and raised in Portugal and moved to the United States to attend college where he met his wife. He is happily married and back home in Portugal full-time with a 24-year-old bilingual son who is living on his own. When he heard that I was studying to be a journalist he hit me with an “ahhh.”
To that, I just laughed because journalists get mixed reactions due to the amount of terrible fake news in the world. With that, he chucked, “ We need more good journalists in the world, world is very bad when journalists-bad.” I agreed and assured him that politics is the last thing I want to work with. He was happy to hear that. When I asked him what he did for a living, he was hit with the language barrier. I helped him with words he knew and we came to a consensus, “Comic books, I write comic books.”
“Maybe I’ll make a little story out of you and your backwards wetsuit!” He laughed and ripped a wave into shore leaving me in the lineup smiling.
While the man I wanted to befriend out in the water initially was supposed to be young, beautiful, and interested in taking me on a date, I guess this wholesome and kind old man will have to do. And if my embarrassing moment I wished to never share with anyone becomes a comic book, I hope one day I can find myself as a character in my inside-out wetsuit pictured on the front cover.
