In my last blog, I mentioned that we’d walked along to Batu Balong beach and seen that the water was full surfers. Today, we decided that it was time to get off our backsides and do something active. Something that neither of us has ever done before. Yes, you guessed it – surfing!  However, on arrival at the beach and seeing the size of the waves I suffered a loss of nerve and tried to back out. Fortunately, David managed to bring me round – remember the Quaker credo, live adventurously!  We then had to wait for a couple of nerve racking hours as the tide was too high for beginners.

There are dozens of small surfing rentals and surf schools lining the beach but we decided to go with Batu Balong surfboard rental. The cost was IDR 350,000 per person for two hours  – about 18 quid. In other words, great value. For that we were kitted up in rash vests, provided with boards and one to one tuition.  My instructor Dennis was born in Canggu and had been surfing all his life. He was 45 and David’s instructor, Made was 58 which made me feel a bit more relaxed about taking up surfing at 51. Dennis and Made took us down to the beach and ran us through the basics. Dennis showed me how to lie on the board on my stomach and paddle out and how to get from that position to kneeling and then from kneeling to standing. It seemed pretty hard. If it was hard on the beach, how hard would it be out there…?

It was time to hit the surf. Getting off the beach was the first challenge.  Dennis instructed me to wait until the waves had died down and then it was ‘Go, go, go!’ Paddling the board against the waves is harder than it looks. You have to keep your head up and back arched, as if doing the ‘Baby Cobra’ yoga position. If you face a big wave, you need to move from ‘Baby Cobra’ to ‘Upward facing dog’ whilst gripping the edge of the board –  and pray that the wave doesn’t turn you over. By the time I was in the right part of the sea to catch the wave, I was exhausted! Fortunately, Dennis was on hand to help me get into position to catch a wave. He held my board until the right wave came along and then it was ‘paddle, paddle, paddle’. As I crested the wave, I managed to get onto my knees but not onto my feet. Despite this, I was excited (or amped as the surf dudes say!) and eager to go back for more. I soon discovered that getting back into position is half the battle. Paddling the board becomes more and more tiring.

Next time round, I got to my feet and managed a wobbly surf before sinking with the wave. Gnarly, dude!

I had managed to stand up five times I told Dennis I’d had enough, I felt I had no energy left, but he persuaded me to go on last time. The sixth time was the greatest, I was up there for long enough to take a look round, to adjust my feet, to get a sense of what I was doing. The adrenaline rush gave me a push to go back once more.

After my final surf, Dennis took me back in. As I approached the beach, I caught sight of David sitting there. Yes –  I wasn’t the biggest wimp on the beach – he’d wimped out before me! Going in is as tricky as going out. Dennis kindly took my surf board off me as the waves tried to drag me back. I was grateful for the rash vest as I staggered out of the water. I’m not sure it’s possible to make a dignified exit onto the shore while wearing a bikini.

On the beach, David looked as shattered as I felt. He’d managed to stand up a couple of times, but he’d found the paddling of the board hard and had ended up coming back to the beach for a rest before the end. We looked at the time and realised we’d been out for less than half our allotted time. Ah well, it had been a blast, and after a shower in ‘Old Man’ I turned to David and said, ‘I’m amped that we handled those gnarly waves, man! And once the noodle arms are gone, maybe we’ll shoot the curls again!’

And he smiled and gave me a high five –  ‘Dude, totally!’