"Trust only movement. Life happens at the level of events, not of words. Trust movement."
El Salvador is like a beautiful but crazy girl that you just keep thinking about. You know how messed up she is but you overlook all of that because she is just so damn exciting. That is how surfers view El Salvador: As a dangerous country but one that entices you because t is full of empty waves. So, you buy the ticket and take the ride.
As I waved goodbye to my Dad at LAX and lugged my boardbag (with my 6.4 and 6.6) I was greeted by an AA agent who said, "you are going surfing in El Salvador? Boy, are you brave." I just smiled and moved on. I was flying on the red eye out of L.A. and was the only white guy on the flight to San Salvador. The stew came up to me and said, "surfer?" I said yep and she said that the only Americans who came down to El Salvador were surfers. I landed at about 5:30 am in San Salvador and got a text from Adam saying that his flight on TACA ( Take a chance airlines) was delayed until 4:00 that afternoon. The plan was for me to wait about an hour at the airport for these guys to arrive since I was the only one flying on American. So here I was, all alone, getting swarmed by people outside of the San Salvador airport. I had to use my boardbag as a buffer to keep taxi drivers etc away from me and tried to call the hotel for the pick-up. But this is central America and things don't really work like they do in the U.S. Nobody was picking up, I called my travel agent and got no answer. Ladies of the night were coming up to me and asking if I wanted a girlfriend for the week, people were trying to sell me all kinds of crap and I kept on reading the travel advisory printed out in big bold letters:
Do Not Get In A Cab Alone!
Finally a guy pulled up in a van and said he was from Las Flores and he would drive me on the two hour plus trip to the hotel. I said a silent pray and got in the bus with him and was able to converse in a Spanish/English hybird. We talked about the waves (olas) and I asked him if he was in the civil war. He showed me a picture of himself in full uniform holding a machine gun. The drive was insane as we passed all sorts of pigs, chickens, cows and goats just running free all over the road. I was able to see miles of just empty beachbreak with decent waves that reminded me of El Porto back home.
I got to the hotel, took a deep breath, and sat down on the deck overlooking a right pointbreak. It had a little bit of morning wind on it but it looked like a fun head high wave. Las Flores is really a surfers dream with a wave out front and boats that leave four times a day to take you to punta mango or to the other beachbreaks. Life quickly gets very simple. You wake up early, surf, have breakfast, surf, nap, have lunch, get an afternoon surf, grab a beer, surf the evening glass, have dinner, watch the sunset and go to bed early. It is incredible to be consumed by the swell, tide and wind for days on end. You really have nothing else to worry about other than trying to decide where you want to go surfing.
All of the other surfers staying at the hotel were from SB, Newport, the South Bay or San Diego. All of the guys got along and took turns in the lineup and just really seemed to enjoy being away from the crowds of Southern California. The best session that we had was an evening surf on the second to last day at punta mango. The boat pulls up and the lineup is empty. I am surfing with only three other people as we watch the sun set from the water. The shoreline of punta mango is undeveloped and you a single horse was grazing on the land. The green mountains were shrowded in mist, the right was overhead and pumping, the water was 74 degrees and I was in heaven. Thank God I am a surfer!