The locals were quite accomodating.
“It just kind of happened,” remarks Ed, over a fruit salad of pineapple, coconut, pomegranate, papayas and bananas at breakfast. After selling his share of a successful graphic design company in the UK, he and Sofie went on an around-the-world surf trip and landed in India late 2009. Then, somewhere along the way, the Soul & Surf website went online. “We had received bookings even before we returned back to India!” remarked Sofie. “And we literally had two weeks to set up everything before our first guests arrived.”
There’s a winning combination here that exists; a sort of “yin and yang” energy that complements each other perfectly, as from the moment they opened their doors in October of 2010, Soul & Surf has had plenty of new friends. “Instead of going out to meet new people, we have them come to us,” says Ed. Fair enough, I thought. Some of us linger at the breakfast table underneath the mango tree, discussing everything from work ethics to politics to arachnophobia and reminisce about past momentous rides.
***
It’s the final day, and I have my fingers crossed, wedged in between my hips and the bad ‘70s disco. Please God, let this be the day. Just one ride, please. As Jason descended the final hill that affords a view of the break, I dared not open my eyes. The car was silent, and all I could hear was the sound of the crashing waves. It sounded like it was pumping, though sound alone has never been a reliable indicator for the quality of the waves here. Unfortunately, it was as flat as it had been each day before.
Just underneath a coconut tree, I looked at Ed and smiled. “What can you do, eh?” We charged anyway, making the best out of what we’ve been given.
Admittedly, getting slotted in a big one would have made the experience that much sweeter, but despite the absence of surf, the company and exploration of my own sense of spirituality more than made up for it. I thought about how strange it was, that given under any other circumstances, we would never have met. Yet our profound love of the ocean has united us all here in India – surfer, yogi, holiday-maker, whatever. A solid four-foot swell was predicted the weekend that I left, and I witnessed it all go to waste in Goa. That evening, pictures from Ed arrived in my email with the words:
Hey Ali,
A few pics attached to whet your whistle! Me nearly getting my first barrel, and a well overhead day at Jengos at the bottom! Mother nature, eh?
It’s an invitation to return, definitely.
Apparently, conditions improved.
