First time

So, I missed you guys. Shall I explane what has happened recently? You know, the life and so on. Probably you don't need any explanation why I haven't put a new post on the blog. Now I feel, as I said Rachel in the kitchen couple of minutes ago, I arrived to a new era, like it has happend to me when I got my first mobile. My life is split up the time before mobile phone and after that. So my blog evolved into a video blog. And now I don't have to say I was riding nice waves. Anyway, what would these plane words mean for you? Probably not too much, but now I don't have to say a word. Just watch it:

Wave hunger

Ohhh, guys out there, I had so many topic ideas in my head. It was difficult to make a decision, I wanted to write about every topic, but I chose this. According to the psychodrama training now working, sleeping and surfing make up the trinity. I have little social life except in my job – ok it was my choice but I just realised I devoted myself so much to surfing that I forgot to build contacts to people, and I left my blog for a while too.

(A bad day)

In a nut shell, if you didn’t know, I changed my place of work. I’m now an employee at the Rocco’s Restaurant, which is part of Les Mielles Golf and Country Club near to the beach. It was time to say goodbye to my old job at Les Charrieres. As a barman and a quarter chef, I do full English breakfasts and bacon rolls, and being a short distance from the sea, sometimes I just grab my board and I walk about three minutes down to the waves.

Now my relationship with surfing has changed. My surfing skills kicked in these last few months, but I’m a less patient guy than before. I feel hunger for the waves, I always want to have them! And I’m not only anxious but angry when somebody takes the wave when it was mine! When you’re closer to the breaking point the wave is yours, even when you’re a beginner a pro should let you have it! So my head just could blow up when I turn into the wave and I see a pushy somebody doesn’t let me go.

However, believe me there are many bastards out there, I just could keep telling stories. This happened today, I was paddling to a huge monster wave, I wanted to avoid it before it broke on me. Some guys were trying to catch it, two of them got it and I had no choice so I had to keep going, and from the position I was in, the best way was to just aim towards the gap between them, allowing them to go. I got past the wave, and I felt something big splash right beside me. It was one of the guys, a teenager, he probably wasn’t able to control his board or he was just scared of the wave because he turned away from the wave, not giving a fuck if somebody was there! There is no one else like me, but there are many waves, you just should wait for them!

I am not perfect, I do mistakes in the water. Sometimes I have to escape, leave the board behind me and just dive down into the water, as I did today, because the fins on the bottom of boards are sharp. Ok, this was a tough situation, and it doesn’t happen so often.

(A gentle touch for Poseidon)

But anyway, it’s just amazing when you feel the moment of truth. When your paddling for a wave there is a critical point, the moment when you jump onto the board, your mind already knows what will happen, you just have to accept it. If your judgement is wrong and you’re lucky, you just roll back onto the back of the wave, but if the water wants to joke with you, you will learn how it is to be in a big tumble dryer.

But, if your judgement was good in that crucial moment and Poseidon smiles on you, you will feel which way leads to the heaven.

Songs from the kitchen 1.

First, Andrew, our English teacher at Highlands Collage, told me an English EXPRESSION about FOTEL. It is WING BACK CHAIR (Three words)!

Since Rob went I tried to make a good friendship in the Big Freeze (Quoted Sky News). My new friend could not move, actually he doesn’t have any legs, and his arms is too short on his white, ball formed body. No problem, differences cannot put obstacles in the way of a really good friendship!

But first we had some difficulties in our communication. When Rob was here he helped me to improve my English and I thought my new friend would do the same favour for me. However, it seemed to me, in short, my English is much better so I considered that it was my turn to give something back! I have patience, time is on my hands, what else do I need? But soon after I realised it led to a dead end, without answers to my efforts, it’s useless!

Okay, let’s do other thing. Body language is a boundless, independent at cultural background so I started teaching my friend how to surf. It seemed to me a brilliant idea, because after I took off the fins from my surfboard we could have done surfing on the slope behind the building where I live. I prepared to the next day, I checked the forecast as I do when I go out surfing. The wind is gentle, 5 mph, temperature is a cosy 8 Celsius, but I haven’t seen my new friend again...

Anyway, life is heroic. I do what I have to do here. Last time, I saw ten ninjas were attacking a young woman and her three children at St Peter’s Co-op in the car park. And I was there. You know people, they usually just try not to notice what can disturb their normal life. Ten ninjas could be very disturbing for them, as they are about to kill a young woman and her infants. So everybody was packing into their trunk, as if the ninja attack was as normal as staying half an hour inside the shop at the till. But I was there!

So many hours that I’ve spent watching Chuck Norris, Bruce Lee, Jean-Calude Van Damme and above all STEVEN SEAGAL in movies weren’t wasted! I could turn all the benefit that I got from them into real martial art skill in a sec. I don’t pull your time saying how I killed the faceless, cruel, well equipped fighting machines one by one. By now they all are in the morgue. But one of them could touch my face causing a bruise around my left eye. His death was very slow and painful. But it’s just enough to mention that after the bloody massacre people burst into a loud ovation. You know, when people don’t want to realise something and somebody stops the reason they are disturbed by then they are grateful. What is the moral? If you don’t want to be a hero don’t go shopping.


I hope this story is more enter-taining than putting down that the wind smashed my board in my face, and that caused the deep red mark around my eye...

The classy board and the comfy chair

Since I was back here, I've been feeling everything temporary around myself, even though I bought a car and a board – big enough to come across ‘em. These items belong to me but are replaceable, so first I didn’t have particular emotional connections with them. The car and the board represent the freedom and the mobility in my life, and not only represent however also mean!

I recently found a special so-called cushioned chair, this one now rules my room. I came across this throne in the local charity shop, where I looked for a collapsing chair because I’m very short of space. Usually I go buying things with a special purpose (and I never do shopping!) BUT when I saw and positioned my body into that object I was thinking how I could rearrange my room so that I would be able to squeeze in this royal equipment (later about this).

Even though I’m not a big bargain hunter I got the chair £ 12 pounds instead of £ 20. I can imagine the same game in a Turkish bazaar. When you hear the first offer your face suddenly turns into surprise and torment caused by the nonsense of words. However this way you show you’re interested in possessing the item! So after the first bid, £ 20, the seller dropped the price to £ 15 and I felt if I could get this so easily I can obtain a little bit more. So sad face, showing the price causes pain for me but I would take it if only ... Eventually the shop lady told the last bid 12! Then I know that’s it. It is mine. But I felt I shouldn’t have shown my happiness immediately otherwise I’d prove I lied, of course I did, but playing our roles consistently is part of the game. So my face changed, the pain went but I left a pinch of sour expression on it and after couple of seconds hesitation I went to the till with this gorgeous armchair.

When I got it home I started finding out how can I find the right position for the jewel of my room. A drawer is part of every room’s basic equipment, so I grabbed this and the TV on its top and put everything in the wardrobe. If I want to watch telly from my cushioned armchair I have to open the wardrobe door, but it demands too much effort. Anyway I can sleep very well in that, of course at first I always say to myself I study English or read a book or watch a movie (in English), but after 3-5 minutes I fall asleep.

I frankly have to tell you that I’m a little bit disappointed about the fact that there is not a suitable short English word about my perfect chair. Easy chair is two words, like cushioned chair (but even this doesn't exist in English); or carver or recliner is ... I literally don’t know; throne is too royal; Rob told me Chesterfield but these options don’t give the same emotional effect like the Hungarian word FOTEL. Fotel is perfect! It involves the convenience, the perfect size, the prestige that this chair possesses.

By now this item is the central point of my room and life. Usually I don’t throw away my clothes on it, I dry my towels as less as possible on its back, so it has made things (involved me) more organised! I feel now my room is more like a home, therefore my chair must have an aura!

Eventually how can my comfy, home maker chair, which brings about feeling of being settled down, and my frog green car, which gives me mobility and freedom, make a perfect combination? I can put the first one into the second one and I can make a home at anywhere.

Back to surfing

Having three weeks gap in my life, here I am again! A little bit wired when you spend your so-called holiday in your country, you can feel like being tourist. Mostly I tried to have good time at my friends and my parents, more or less it’s succeeded. Though I find some new directions for driving my life forward, I had lost the track. I wouldn’t put details here, those who met me know what I’m writing about.

Having my time in Hungary just like being floated, I didn’t have to wake up early and go to work. But I could meet some good mates, even in the middle of a day, because they are unemployed and surprisingly a few want to go abroad. I just could recommend it for everyone. So fuck off Hungary if you don’t need us!

When I came back the feeling like being nowhere went on. Doing the same thing like before isn’t enthusiastic and falling in the continuous aimlessness is, in short, shit.

So I started to organise my life here, making a tough schedule, ok, not so rigorous daily program but it gives me a pattern! After the first shift I start studying English and besides going down for swimming and being in the sauna. I was just able to do this at the first couple of weeks, but now the most important thing, surfing is back in my life!

I abso-fuckin’-lutely missed it but first the water wasn’t my best friend.

(...) Sometimes it is just sucks, because after half hour paddling I'm not able to get at the right place owing to the massive, high and frequent waves. Though I had good surf later, I couldn't ride at St Ouen for the first three days.

This happend to me yesterday, I way peeling off my wetsuit, when a guy showed up and we started to chat. He told he was heading to St Brelades, I haven't surfed there before, but I heard about that. He also told that there were a bunch of surfers already. So it was worth checking that. Errr, towel at my waist, got in the car, drive it down and yeah, waves were perfect at the bay! Decent size, not too tough and frequent. After half hour suck at St Ouen a deserved gift waited for me at St Brelades.

As you can see at the Hungarian post I bought my wintertime wetsuit. It's two time thicker than my summertime one, I feel as if some heater was inside. But I have to squize my whole body through the hole at the chest, and it's like putting on a sock around my waist and shoulders, uhhhh.