After a 24-hour bus journey and a border crossing at 4 AM in a malaria-infested region of giant mosquitoes, I arrived in Huanchaco, a surf town on the Northern coast of Peru.

The waves were impressive, with a consistent 3-meter swell, and they started far away from the shore. For a week, I was practising with a friend at a fallback spot near the pier.

One day, the waves seemed smaller. We managed to go through the foam and the current and arrived far away from the beach, so far that people looked like tiny dark spots on the sand. I sat on my board a bit further on the right of the lineup to admire the spectacle. Waves were gently curling over their crests before exploding into a cloud of sprinkling foam. The sounds of my surroundings were incredibly satisfying, crackling, sizzling bubbles and tinkling drops of water.

The sun was setting. A warmer, softer hue took over the landscape. A crimson haze enveloped the town and the desert, like a veil of heat and moisture. The sun's last rays were wrapping the surfers' faces with beautiful rusty light, and they were all watching in awe as their day ended with this view.

It was poetry in motion.

I was in awe but also afraid. I wondered if I should head back because of the size of the waves. But the scenery was so mesmerizing that I wanted to stay and take it all in. The water was cold, and my wetsuit had holes in it; it was strange to feel cold while looking at the desert.

I started breathing deeply and then entered into a calm state of consciousness where my mind was fully present at that very moment. Watching, feeling and hearing everything around me were the only thing that mattered.

Then the wave arrived. The wave. It was not as big as the others, but still more impressive than any wave I had ever tried before. Suddenly, the cold hit me. A bitter shiver took over my body and signalled me it was time to head back. My arms were stiff, and my lips were shivering. The wave was coming right towards me. I was in the perfect position to take it. I was hesitating: should I try and risk it, should I not?

I took it. Popped up, strong on my legs, stayed low, very low on my board, went left. Going down the face of the wave, I discovered this new amazing speed - an unfamiliar pace. The adrenaline was stronger than ever before. The wave was long, and I was brushing its shoulder with my fingers. I could see its crest curl over my head, going fast. Then, an enormous mass of foam swallowed me in.

Oh, how happy I was when I came out of the water! I laughed with joy! My heart was beating fast, each pulse was a manifestation of my delight and pride.

That wave was one of the happiest moments of my trip. Thinking about it makes me smile :)


Pictures shot by @judithodm