Tough City 08/18/05

Okay, seeing as how my internet access is no longer sub-Botswana and my broken finger is healing, I'll ELABORATE.

Surfing was a blast, I joined the pacific surf school at long beach for a half day class with Aussie instructors that ran us through a 30 min beach boot camp before hitting the waves (which were moderate to high). After fighting against the waves for about an hour, I finally threw my board onto the water in-between waves, hopped on and paddled like crazy. I leapt up when the board began to lift and found myself hurtling towards shore in full stance. Saturday was even better, I offered three students from Quebec (2 pre-med, one kinesiology) a ride down to the beach for their class while I practiced with a rental that I strapped to the roof of my car. I arrived at the stage where I was able to steer along the crest. Then a loose surfboard cracked the distal phalange on my middle finger...so a swollen bird to the Pacific Ocean.

While hosteling, you inherit traveling companions almost instantly and in a place like Tofino, they all want to surf and then get hammered. After sushi at the harbor, we hit the only pub in town (KARAOKE night!) and took turns picking up rounds (there was a student from Australia, a kindergarten teacher from Ottawa and a 19 year old hostel owner from Scotland). Never take up an inherent drinking challenge from someone both younger and more Scottish than you (I'm 13%). Several nasty rounds later (coffee shots dropped in a glass of vodka and amaretto, spiced rum and ginger ale), I foolishly raise the stakes with the nastiest thing the bartender can mix, a "rocky mountain bearfucker". Despite the poor reception of my last round, I remain present to ensure that everyone in my party makes it back to the hostel and doesn't get picked up by anyone sleazy. Stumbling through the dark basement, I use the mirror at the end of the hall to determine how close I am to the doorknob of my room. When I think I've hit my door, I open it and walk in, pausing to maintain my balance. "WHOA!" "Whoa?" I answer. "WHOA!" "Whoa?" I answer. "WHOA" we say in concert. I happened to be next door to the Hostel owner, a 26yo surfer whose girlfriend decided to sleep over that night. Fortunately he laughed it off the next day (amidst several rocky mountain hangovers) and seemed to have a good sense of what I was all about...I did hang out with him and his friend, the resident hip hop expert, the next night...Moka Only plays Tofino on the 23rd.

Friday I kayaked around Clayoquot Sound and hiked Meares Island. I'll flickr those pictures along with Lil' Qualicum Falls and Qualicum Beach.

Duke (from Nanaimo)
p.s. I?ve gotta host an all-serbian buffet with the amazing dishes I?m learning to make over the next few days.