Ten P.M. in the surf house and all is quiet. After hours in the water most of the inhabitants are hitting the recovery button, closing doors and going to bed.
At ten thirty a car pulls up outside. As the reggeaton fades, five girls get out giggling. Each is carrying a bottle of booze or a pack of beer. Looks like its going to be a lively night and, perhaps unsurprisingly, my plans for the evening change….
Continue reading “Arica Part III – a night at Yoyo’s surf house”
I have come to the realisation that I am not very good (read crap) at learning new things, especially if I don’t excel (or at the very least do better than my colleagues / classmates) pretty quickly. The last couple of weeks have been humbling and thought-provoking, rewarding and tear inducing, frustrating and exhilarating.
Allow me to expand.
Continue reading “Learning to learn”
There’s not much to say about Arica. A town of about 200,000 people perched at the northern point of Atacama and a stone’s throw from the border with Peru the town is dusty, heaving with backpackers and trucks moving north or south. The one amazing thing about Arica however is the surfing.
Continue reading “Arica”