Peace, love, hang ten

Dyk is right, surfing grabs a hold of you and doesn't let go. Ever since that fateful day in San Diego almost two years ago now, I've had a constant longing to be permanently surfside. And now, as luck would have it, I more or less am. Over the last fortnight there has been nery an occasion in which 48 hours has passed without me surfing. I've been lucky. Lucky to have waves, lucky to have a board available, lucky that the owners of said board are two stand up Russians who've become good friends. Lucky. Hopefully in the future I'll be able to call a board my own, but their presence are scarce here for the most part, so such thing could be a while coming. In the meantime, I'll continue with what I've been doin', cause it works pretty well.

On another positive note, I recovered the majority of the VND that I shelled out for my stolen motorbike. This morning I received a payment of 4 million dong. The remaining million went to two places. One was the cops, who apparently require a payoff of 500,000 dong to do their job. (Gotta love a developing country). The other half went to the repair of the bike. Might sound like a raw deal, but it was the best I was going to get, and I'll take it. That chapter is closed now, thank bhudda, and I can forget about it. Next is to wait the eternity that it'll take for the cops to actually do some work in finding our perpetual night time visitor. As they say on the other side of the atlantic however, that is "not bloody likely" (to be said with a single malt soaked highlands accent).

So, for now I'll take solace in the fact that from my seat at this restaurant I can look to the ocean and see a small swell rolling in. A small swell here more than likely means a decent swell around the headland at back beach. This means it's time for a surf. Farewell friends and family, things are back on track.

From Adam with love