On the morning of the 24th, I woke to the sound of my alarm – a rare occurrence typically reserved for travel days and extra-early hostel check-out times – at around 4 am. The reason for waking at such an early hour was, by my standards, a good one: Fab and I were going to head north about an hour to surf a relatively unknown spot as the sun rose.
Within minutes I heard the man himself knock on my door to see if I was up, obviously I was so we collected our respective equipment and snuck out to our scooters, careful not to wake anyone else in the place as our boards clunked into racks and 125cc motors sputtered to life. We zipped off into the deserted streets, the yellow of streetlights blurring as the wind brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my lips.
Since the streets were empty, navigation was a simple matter, and we were able to maintain an average of 80 kph even through the center of town; a feat wholly impossible during any other hour of the day. Given our rapid pace, we arrived at the break far sooner than earlier anticipated, and the relaxation of tempo that had been occupying us allowed the realization that we were quite hungry. Due to the absurdly early hour, nothing was open but a 7-11 and so we went.
Sitting in front of the glowing florescent mart, we chowed down on packaged fruit, strange pastries, oreos, and something that resembled a hamburger. It may not have been the healthiest breakfast in the world, but it was filling and definitely contained enough calories for a couple hours of surfing (assuming none of those calories decided to re-emerge).
We got back to the break just as dawn began to make it’s presence known in the slowly lightening horizon and so we promptly strolled down the beach, boards in arm, to where the beach curved out into the sea forming a point that the waves rolled down, forming a decent length right hand point break. The swell had increased in size and while Fab paddled straight out, I caught a couple extra waves on the head and took considerably longer to get out, already noticing the fatigue in my back.
As the sky was painted pink with dawn, Fab and I traded waves with just a couple other guys who knew of that spot. I was glad to have such a knowledgeable mate to show me the spots, and that appreciation grew as the suns rays began to dance across the island of Bali, illuminating the palms, huts, and particularly the big green volcano that sits near the center of the island. It looked exactly how I had imagined a tropical paradise to look, and the waves were pretty darn good too.
After surfing that spot for a while, we headed to a well-known break called Keramas and met up with Lukas. They shredded that wave for most of the day, and I shot pictures from shore after just an hour or two out there on account of my fatigue.
Afternoon was flirting with evening as we headed back to the hostel, arriving after another harrowing ride through the highways and streets just in time to clean up, relax a bit, and seek out some dinner. All said it was a pretty epic day, my best in Bali at that point, and I was even more excited for the weeks to come.
