Manu Morel, our photographer, had had the difficult task of capturing my windsurfing exploits in the 2000s before going to getting seduced by the then more glamorous kitesurfing. It was with his shiny new kiting friends that Manu first visited Sri Lanka, so he knew his way round a bit. I did not really know my other travelling companion Olivia Piana before the trip but who isn’t aware of the current race vice-world champion’s grace and endurance abilities? I knew Olivia was also a credible surfer, she picked up SUP when the wind was too light to rip it on her windsurfer. Surf trips can so easily turn into sausage fests with all the blokes locked into petty competitions with one another, so this touch of femininity came like a breath of fresh air.
Like so many journeys, our stoke was promptly thrown under the wheels of the metaphorical bus when Sri Lankan Airlines thought it right to relieve us of € 700 at the check-in counter. This was enough to evaporate even the ever-present smile of Olivia, and I was as sick as a parrot. We rallied our spirits as we landed at night in Colombo on Sri Lanka’s west coast in the middle of an August monsoon rainstorm. A minibus was waiting to take us to Arugum bay on the east side, which during this monsoon would be dry and offshore. The two-monsoon system of Sri Lanka works like that – one coast will be dry and offshore, the other onshore and tipping it down.
