i love the morning. more so now then when i was younger. i grabbed my most recent publication, and headed for baraka cafe.
post coffee....which was delicious btw, i waltzed my way through the town, i came to the conclusion that santa teresa is more of a surf pit stop. you come here to surf. thats pretty much it. there is a line of surf rental shops, a cafe, a burger joint or two, a hostel or three...and a small market.
well, i don´t surf. so the next best thing is to take a back seat, meet the few locals that do surf and live vicariously through them....
meet chely.
chely stays and works at the funky monkey hostel....he works 3 hours every morning. let me rephrase that. he drinks coffee and chats with the guests. after ´work´ he teaches surf lessons, 60 bucks and hour.
he moved from venezuela 12 years ago, at 17 years old to compete in a surfing competition in costa rica. he hasn´t moved back since. so not exactly a purebred tico, more like a tichalf.
in response to my questioning about his fearlessness of the water, he replied simply with....respect.
and andreas...
met him at the funk. first time surfer. from texas, last semester abroad in costa rica to add the cherry on his graduation cake. he disclosed that he was seeking a pure life and put down the bottle and cigarettes some time ago. we hit it off and i decided i would photo document his first time. after a dozen or so failed attempts, he got up!
people from all over the world...
after my amateur photo shoot....i decided to saunter back to grab a bite...and lo and behold....
i passed a surfer in a surf and turf diner watching surfing on the tele.
