Closed Roads

It took 24 hours of nonstop traveling to get from the mountains of Guatemala to the coast of Mexico. Twelve hours on a shuttle from Antigua to San Cristóbal, one of which was spent looking for an English girl who couldn’t speak Spanish and thus couldn’t describe to the driver where to find her hotel. I hated her white powdered face and the smack of her lips on a sickeningly sweet-smelling strawberry breakfast bar. As I hated the driver who broke the zipper on my board bag as I told him not to touch it. And the Good Samaritan with the sad practiced smile of a martyr who was working with communities to reduce infant mortality, and thus thought she deserved the front seat. Twelve hours on a shuttle, I hated them all.

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Aloe Driscoll 6 Comments

Tuna Sandwich

Aloe Driscoll

Since the swell was forecast to be meager for another week, I decided to head to Guatemala for something different. Though there is surf in Guatemala, I hadn’t heard about any standout waves. I had, however, heard about volcanoes, colonial towns, mountain lakes, and Mayan ruins. Excited to do some hiking and let my poor ravaged lips heal from all that time in the water and sun, I set off. Casey dropped me off at a bus stop outside of El Tunco, and I proceeded to wait. With a long trip ahead of me, I knew I needed something to eat, and the only food in sight was a roadside stand selling tortas, or sandwiches for $1. The vendor told me that the meat was res, or beef, but as she pulled a mottled gray strip of meat off of a stack, I had serious concerns that it might come with a side of diarrhea. Lacking other options, I choked it down, and surprisingly, I survived. Ultimately, it was a tuna sandwich that set me off.

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Aloe Driscoll 1 Comment

Down Time

Aloe Driscoll wake surfing in El Salvador.

One day while I was paddling out at Las Flores, I saw an unexpected face. No way. I did a double take. It was Casey, from Costa Rica. “What are you doing here?” I called out jokingly. He was on a trip with his friend Red, and like me, they had decided that Las Flores was the call for this swell. Unlike me, they had brought along a jet ski to simplify their trips to Punta Mango. Unfortunately, it was having problems. After a few minutes of use, a warning light went on, at which point it wouldn’t go faster than 6mph.

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Aloe Driscoll 5 Comments

For Love of Mangoes

Aloe Driscoll surfing in El Salvador.

Returning to Las Flores evoked a feeling of coming home, seeing a beloved friend, grown and changed, but with the same warm smile, the same tender heart. Three years ago, the sign welcoming tourists to Las Flores was shiny and new, bright with hope at the promise of work, money, a better life. Now it is pockmarked by stickers, indulging in a decadent feast of surf tourism. The landscape is similarly changed. New hotels have sprung up like weeds along the road, which has been widened and flattened, laid in parts with cobblestones, bridges. Droves of surfers toting shiny new boards file out to the waves.

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Aloe Driscoll 2 Comments

Guardian Angels

Guardian angels in El Salvador.

A south swell was on its way, and there was nothing I wanted more than to score Las Flores. One of the most difficult things about surfing is that consistently finding good waves demands complete dedication and spontaneity. If you plan to surf a specific place a month out, chances are slim that the waves will be spectacular. You have to watch, wait, and pounce, with catlike grace and timing. There’s nothing worse than hearing that age old taunt, “You should have been here yesterday.”

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