Santa Catalina
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As I travel without a Lonely Planet or any other tourist guide I usually impulsively follow the recommendations of other travellers. Since two months one specific place clearly stood out: Santa Catalina, a remote surfing town where every backpacker seems to have had the time of their life. Without prior research I travelled a full day to reach this out-of-the-way-destination... but when I saw the dozens of surfboards being loaded on the bus’ rooftop I wondered what the hell I was going to do here. I like to believe I have many talents, but surfing is most definitely not one of them.
I am a fanatic admirer of the wet, hot and salty bodies of the surfboy-population though. When it comes to men I don’t have a type in sense of hair colour, eyes or nationality, but without exception surfers with their long hair, tanned skin and casual I-don’t-give-a-damn-attitude make me weak. I decided that if there are creepy old guys travelling to Thailand and Cambodia to sleep with fine tiny Asian ladies (/teenagers/children), I for sure am allowed to travel down to a tropical surfhotties-swarm to surround myself with some laidback beauty.
I am a fanatic admirer of the wet, hot and salty bodies of the surfboy-population though. When it comes to men I don’t have a type in sense of hair colour, eyes or nationality, but without exception surfers with their long hair, tanned skin and casual I-don’t-give-a-damn-attitude make me weak. I decided that if there are creepy old guys travelling to Thailand and Cambodia to sleep with fine tiny Asian ladies (/teenagers/children), I for sure am allowed to travel down to a tropical surfhotties-swarm to surround myself with some laidback beauty.
As usually, I didn’t book anything in advance and decided to roam around town to find myself some cheap deal. I wasn’t aware of the average 40-degrees-temperature and big distances between the hostels though, so when I finally rocked up at some surfcamp called ‘Surfer’s Paradise’ I immediately threw down my agonizing backpack, took off my soaked shirt and decided to stay.
This place felt like coming home. A home that’s more scenic than any home I ever lived in: On the top of a palmtree-hill, right on the shore, a short walk down to the reef and with a first-class view on the mesmerizing sunset. On top of that, Santa Catalina exclusively attracts interesting, fun-loving and care-free people... the environment immediately taking that last bit of stress away.
This place felt like coming home. A home that’s more scenic than any home I ever lived in: On the top of a palmtree-hill, right on the shore, a short walk down to the reef and with a first-class view on the mesmerizing sunset. On top of that, Santa Catalina exclusively attracts interesting, fun-loving and care-free people... the environment immediately taking that last bit of stress away.
It’s indeed hard to be stressed when doing absolutely nothing. Without the ambition to even try to learn how to catch a wave there were not much things left to do here. So if you expect a blog about all my intensive adventures at the Pacific coast I have to disappoint you up front. I didn’t even take a boat to Coiba Island, as after San Blas I didn’t want to budget-splurge again. I just slept in my tent, sat around, meditated, swam in the sea, wrote, studied and got quite comfortable in my role as observer.
The opportunities to learn how to surf (for free) were plenty though, as that seems to be the favourite and most obvious pick-up line. As soon as something wearing a bikini walks down the street all of a sudden every guy is an experienced surf teacher. I picked Diego (not in any of the photos), the son of the hostel-owner and not coincidentally the cutest of them all. Ok, before we continue, let me sketch a clear image of this person mentioned. Diego is the kind of guy who makes fully grown-up women giggle like teenage girls. His naughty puppy eyes, laughing wrinkles, bright white smile, seducing six-pack, delicious tan and tight tushy makes any sane lady immediately want to touch herself in weird places. When this divine piece of man runs downs the beach holding his surfboard conversations stop, knees get weak and sexy positions are assumed. Not only is this Enrique Iglesias 2.0 ridiculously good-looking, he is also gifted with a fair amount of talent and success. Surfers envy the way he catches every wave, sponsors wait in line and surfmagazine-photographers can’t wait to have him in front of their lens. Add a modest down-to-earth attitude and ‘level irresistible’ is achieved. His classes were quite intense, but strangely enough there was zero progress in my surfing skills. Maybe because he forgot to bring the surfboards every time.
The opportunities to learn how to surf (for free) were plenty though, as that seems to be the favourite and most obvious pick-up line. As soon as something wearing a bikini walks down the street all of a sudden every guy is an experienced surf teacher. I picked Diego (not in any of the photos), the son of the hostel-owner and not coincidentally the cutest of them all. Ok, before we continue, let me sketch a clear image of this person mentioned. Diego is the kind of guy who makes fully grown-up women giggle like teenage girls. His naughty puppy eyes, laughing wrinkles, bright white smile, seducing six-pack, delicious tan and tight tushy makes any sane lady immediately want to touch herself in weird places. When this divine piece of man runs downs the beach holding his surfboard conversations stop, knees get weak and sexy positions are assumed. Not only is this Enrique Iglesias 2.0 ridiculously good-looking, he is also gifted with a fair amount of talent and success. Surfers envy the way he catches every wave, sponsors wait in line and surfmagazine-photographers can’t wait to have him in front of their lens. Add a modest down-to-earth attitude and ‘level irresistible’ is achieved. His classes were quite intense, but strangely enough there was zero progress in my surfing skills. Maybe because he forgot to bring the surfboards every time.
My home is nowhere and therefore everywhere... at places where memories are triggered and my laugh still softly echoes in the sky. This story is a tribute to my Surfer’s Paradise family. To everyone who shared their smile, their love and their personality and co-created this paradise.
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- Paraguayan beach: Encarnación
- Bolivian beach: Copacabana & Isla del Sol
- Colombian beaches: Palomino, Cartagena, Santa Marta & Tayrona National Park, Colombia
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- A surprising less explored stretch of New Zealand: the Southern East Coast
- More beaches in Panamá: San Blas & Costa Abajo
- My 1-month Workaway-project on an (almost) uninhabited island in Panamá: Isla San Cristóbal, Bocas del Toro
- Hiking in the bush-bush, an abusive hostel owner and a pornstar: My volunteership in Boquete, Panama
- Panamanian city-hopping: Panama City
- The ultimate off-the-grid beach & surf spot in New Zealand: Port Waikato
- Beach getaway: Nicoya and the Costa Rican coast
- The tropical beaches of Tortuguero, Costa Rica
- Beach and surfspot in El Salvador: El Zonte
- The beaches of Honduras: Tela & Roatán
- Enjoying the beaches of Nicaragua: Isla de Ometepe & Playa Gigante
- The beaches of Mexico: Cancún (don't go there), Cozumel & Tulum
- Beach & surf hangouts in Uruguay: Cabo Polonio, Barra de Valizas & Punta del Diablo
- Argentinean beaches: Puerto Madryn & Colón
- Brazilian beaches: Florianopolis, Ilha Grande & Rio de Janeiro
- Paraguayan beach: Encarnación
- Bolivian beach: Copacabana & Isla del Sol
- Colombian beaches: Palomino, Cartagena, Santa Marta & Tayrona National Park, Colombia
- Relax at the beaches of the Algarve, Lisbon
- Spain and its beaches: Barcelona & Malagá
- Malaysia's tropical scubadive-island: Pulau Tioman
- A surprising less explored stretch of New Zealand: the Southern East Coast