Morning Session

Santa Maria is asleep at six in the morning. The night before at the Reggae Rooftop Bar was once again bloody. Windfinder gave 16 to 18 knots for five to eight o’clock. With three good kite days in a fortnight so far, it’s clear what needs to be done: with four hours of sleep, I stroll through the dark streets, clean and still drunk, and look for the first awake taxi.

In the light of the headlights to Mitu Kitebeach, the salt of the salt pans shines brightly. I’m all alone on the beach. The orange and black striped tiger dog sleepily cuddles a lucky cat. A small flock of sandpipers play catch with the waves. White sand dunes shine golden in the sun rising behind clouds over Africa. Above, the moon watches the waves. On some days, kitesurfing is a religion.

I’m on the water at half past six. At low tide, the waves are much smaller today than the last few days. The reef peaks through the waves in some places, easy to miss in the rising sun. It is quiet. The sound of the wind. The breaking of the waves. The sound of spray. I breathe in and out and calm down. The waves are nice and steep today, small ramps throw me into the sky. Every now and then the wind dies, typically directly in front of one of the rarely occurring larger wave sets.

Four days ago, the wind exceeded 15 knots for the first time on Sal, which is unusual, according to the Cape Verdeans, but summer also came very late this year. After twelve days in the doldrums, I drive three kilometres on the back of the Club Mistral jeep to the other side of the island to Mitu Kite Beach. Here, in contrast to the bay of Santa Maria, the wind blows side-on and with exactly the three knots more that I had been missing. The waves are sometimes over one and a half metres high and quite challenging. Pupils are washed one after the other. Not a good place to learn. In the evening, a local usually takes me back to Santa Maria in the back of the pick-up.

If I can’t find one, I walk the three kilometres through the salt flats. Even this morning. The second kiter arrives at eight o’clock. I walk home. All transport on Cape Verde is expensive because of the wear and tear caused by the salty air and the spare parts that have to be brought in. Taxis usually charge seven euros for three kilometres. My taxi driver had no change today. He doesn’t bring the 13 euros to my hotel until the evening.