At the end of my last three weeks in Cabarete, the wind finally returns. Tentatively at first, a little breeze, but after six days of calm and rain, it’s a sign of things to come. From three o’clock onwards, a nice 20 knots are blowing on the kite beach. The wind is extremely gusty, the waves are mean, high and coming from different directions. But that doesn’t matter. The main thing is wind.

I keep going out to the reef and playing catch with the breakers. I escape all but one of them. It bites me on the bum and rolls over me. Nothing happens. When I surface, a fat turtle is suddenly right next to me and stares at me. Not the only one that day. By the evening, I must have seen a dozen large sea turtles. The oldest sea dweller meets the youngest. (more…)

Sabine’s infection jumps over to me. The wind blows laminar side onshore at a perfect 15-20 knots for four days in a row. If I was a true German, I’d have to grumble about the seaweed in the water. But otherwise I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. Everything is perfect, the sun is shining, the wind is blowing and Cuba is getting a good clearing every evening.

Every lunchtime we take the shuttle from Ali’s camp to the kite club. Sabine always has an uneasy stomach beforehand, with all the joyful anticipation mixed with a little anxiety. This mixture is hellishly energising. Some days I stand on the beach and wonder whether I can still master the wind. But the XBow simply flattens out every gust. (more…)

My diabolical plan is thwarted by a serious infection. Sabine touched one of those long things on the beach. Her mum had warned her about it just before she set off. But Sabine’s upbringing was anti-authoritarian. The virus jumped over to her in the same second of first contact. By evening number one, she already has very strange facial features.

She enjoys the little trainer kite. On day two, she goes straight to the 8m² bowkite with her instructor. You can see her grin 300 metres into the wind. It stays windy until the evening. On day three, the infection worsens, she learns about the power of the wind, practises the water start on land and running in the water. (more…)

Finally away from the German autumn! After an almost sleepless night, we take the train to Frankfurt. The train is on time, the plane is not. There are lots of my favourite people scurrying around at the airport: German holidaymakers. They expect only the best, know a lot, see little, like to complain and never think what they experience is the best of the best.

We go through all the checks (How much longer will it take?), off to the gate, out again (Why do we have to wait so long?), back in again (Can you give me the ticket?) and finally onto the Condor to Cabarete. For the first time in 20 flights, my knees don’t hit the seat in front of me. After 16 hours of travelling, the sun sets blood red over the Caribbean clouds. (more…)