Our pickup truck wound through the dusty, unpaved back roads of northwest . When we hit a pothole, the surfboards strapped to the roof would rattle violently, and we鈥檇 hold on to the truck for dear life. As nerve-racking as the journey was, arriving in Playa Hermosa made every bump worth it.
Before me stretched gently sloped hills covered in vegetation, spilling down to black volcanic sand and the shimmering Pacific Ocean. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of salt, sunshine, and freshly turned dirt. Hermosa is a beach that inspires lazy days, but I was there for something different: to push my body to its capacity and catch a few good waves. Little did I know, I鈥檇 also find my way back to myself.
Last year, I lost my father to Alzheimer鈥檚. Shortly after his death, a year-long romantic relationship imploded. The one-two punch of grief left me in a grey haze of depression for most of last fall. I鈥檇 always been curious about surfing, but never enough to brave the frigid waves of Vancouver Island, which I call home. When I was invited to attend a surf camp in a tropical paradise, however, it felt like a journey I needed to take.
Mandla, a luxury eco-resort in the village of El Transito, hosts an all-inclusive surf retreat called Rise Up.
Mandlais an all-inclusive surf camp hosted at , a luxury eco-resort in El Transito, a small fishing village known for its incredible waves. Upon arrival, I stepped into the expansive palapa and immediately noticed the delicious aroma of fried plantains and homemade tortillas wafting from the kitchen. Outside, palm trees swayed in the breeze, and an infinity pool sparkled.
For seven days, I lived and breathed surfing. There were four of us at camp that week 鈥 all beginners. After breakfast each morning, we鈥檇 pile into the truck and head to a nearby surf spot, either El Transito or Playa Hermosa. We鈥檇 spend four hours in the water, covered in zinc, squinting in the blazing sun, and working one-on-one with our incredible surf coaches, Justin and Denis.
My friends thought I was crazy for wanting to learn to surf at 43 (“Don鈥檛 you have to have crazy upper body strength to do that?鈥) 鈥 and they weren鈥檛 wrong. Surfing requires grit, patience and a sense of humour. As a more experienced surfer explained on my first day, to surf is to wipe out. You鈥檙e forced to get comfortable with failure.
What people don鈥檛 tell you about grief is how numb it can make you feel. Learning to surf forced me to get out of my head and into my body. For the first time in months, I wasn鈥檛 replaying scenes from my father鈥檚 death or my breakup. Instead, I鈥檇 return to the resort in the evening, battered by the sea, my arms aching, my body covered in bruises, and overwhelmed with pride.
I鈥檇 quickly change out of my sand-filled rash guard before joining my surf camp mates on the pool deck for pre-dinner yoga. Sometimes I鈥檇 just sit and watch, taking in the sun setting over the Pacific, the silhouettes of surfers with their boards visible against the orange sky.
A golden-hour view of Nicaragua.
Simone PagetAfter sunset, our group would gather for celebratory cocktails and shots of rum. Our bartender, Pepe, would bring out 鈥淧epe-tizers鈥 鈥 ceviche and paper-thin plantain chips that we鈥檇 gobble down hungrily. This was followed by a gourmet meal from our in-house chef, Bayardo. I鈥檇 stumble back to my room, belly and heart full, exhausted but giddy that I鈥檇 survived another day in the most physically challenging week of my adult life.
Learning to surf pushed me to my outer limits and humbled me. It also helped me work through my grief. When you fall off a surfboard and a wave is about to break, you must dive under, protect your head, and wait for it to pass while the ocean thrashes above you. It鈥檚 terrifying and not unlike processing the loss of someone you love. The only way to survive is to surrender to the moment and trust that you鈥檒l eventually rise to the surface with enough air left.
For months, I鈥檇 been trying to distract my way out of my grief, and it wasn鈥檛 working. But at the bottom of the ocean, I slowed my breathing and embraced the solitude. I was reminded that I can find peace in discomfort. In the moment, my grief felt lighter. This, too, shall pass.
Simone Paget travelled as a guest of Rise Up, which did not review or approve this article.
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