“I Like It A Bit Overpowered”

That’s the sentence of the day. Max recites it with a subtle swagger. We’re standing on the pier. Measuring the wind. 15-25 knots. Last night was long and good again, as was the hangover. Around midnight I played a round of chess against a Filipino. Suddenly he bends over the bench and vomits like a gargoyle. Until then I thought I’d played well.

My condition says nine kite, but I leave even that on the beach for an hour. Max is immediately out with the seven. Then he comes back with the set of the day and sets up the twelve. I get to the third floor with 20kg more weight and the nine, I’m well in the juice. It’s never enough for him.

After just two days here, we are the colourful dogs of the village. Everyone seems to know us and everyone wants to see us kite. We don’t want to set up ourselves, everyone wants to help. I give a Filipino a euro. I thought it was appropriate for his help. From that moment on, I’m not allowed to pump myself or put my harness on alone. It’s amazing how helpful they are.

Whole families come to the beach, drink gin and have a picnic. Everyone wants to see us. Every jump is loudly commented on. There’s a lot of it today and it’s high. A motorbike gang pulls up at the pier, then a rich family with a car. Children come running up, loads of them. As soon as we come ashore, they all pounce on us. Some girls want pictures with us. I’m a star, just don’t take me out!

The wind dies down a bit in the late afternoon. I set up the Thirteen and go out for some really big airs. The sun is approaching the horizon. Fishing boats pass by. Kiters’ Heaven.