It takes us five hours to drive from Ilha do Guajirú to Barra Gande – a whopping 350 kilometres and partly on gravel roads through the deepest pampas. Both Google and Open Street Map indicated this route, and locals showed us the same way. We only learnt a day later that we could easily have saved ourselves a third of the journey by taking the new road between Jijioca and Granja.
Barra Grande is almost completely booked out due to a bank holiday. Even modest private rooms without doors quickly cost an astronomical €40 a night by Brazilian standards. So we book ourselves into a really fine luxury resort for €10 more. The house is pure hippie art, each table a painting made from carefully crafted solid wood. After the journey, we are exhausted. (more…)
Ilha do Guajirú
Ilha do Guajirú is the first place in Brazil where we have to search for free accommodation. “Something” takes five minutes and finds us a pousada right on the beach for very little money. The rusty compressor rattles loudly and the meal takes ages. We immediately feel at home in the Pousada Portal da Barra. There are few places in the world where you can kite in strong winds on flat water just ten metres from your room.
The wind blows mightily in Ilha do Guajirú. During the three days of our stay, it only rarely and briefly blows at less than 20 knots. During the day it always blows at 20 to 30 knots. Ilha do Guajirú is a dream for flat water kiters. Situated behind a long sandbank, the low tide reduces a long river estuary to a barely mirror-smooth space. At high tide, up to 60 kiters ride the gentle wind waves of the 300 by 1000 metre slope. (more…)
On the way to the promised land
A house wall in the middle of nowhere in the Brazilian pampas proclaims: “God has abandoned us”. This irritates me in two ways. Firstly, Brazilians are the Salafists among Christians. Anyone who does not attend at least three of the five weekly masses offered in each village is officially considered a pagan. Secondly, we are on our way to the promised land, and that is not possible without a God.
Our God is the wind. It certainly brings a lot of wealth to Brazil. When a wind farm is built here, a factory, roads and sometimes a whole village are built at the same time. We drive through endless forests of wind turbines. Yes, the sunset would be more beautiful without them. But if I have the choice between forests of rotary blades and sushi glowing in the dark, my choice is clear. (more…)
Flexeiras, Guajirú & Mundau
The next stop is the almost completely empty town of Flexeiras. It’s just before peak season and there’s nothing going on anywhere. We check into a cheap pousada right on the beach and set off straight away for Guajiru, a few kilometres to the east. The wind is much stronger here than in the slightly shaded Flexeiras. On the water in front of one of the kite accommodations, which are hopelessly overpriced as always, a dozen riders with 7 to 9 square metres are raging.
As the beach is wide and the sea quite empty, we downgrade the risk and stick to 12 and 13m² – again. With gusts well over 22 knots, this is borderline, but the hangtime is tremendous. We hurl ourselves into the lee over numerous 1.5 metre high waves and mess up even more big airs towards the shore. The view from a height of 7 metres seems endless. (more…)
Lagoinha & Paracuru
After five weeks of long stays, the pace of travelling is now changing. We are travelling by car for three weeks from Fortaleza to the wild west of Brazil with Ian, a Dutchman from England. From now on, we’ll be riding different kite spots every day. Our first stop is Lagoinha, a good hour west of Cumbuco.
The sticker on the windscreen prohibits driving on unpaved roads. It says nothing about beaches. So the next morning we drive a few kilometres downwind to the lagoon with good people from home. It’s not much bigger than the Tabuba pond off Cumbuco, but is surrounded by palm trees and dunes like an oasis behind the beach. The wind is too good, nobody has time for photos or films. (more…)
Complaining About Meccas: Cumbuco
We kiters have many reasons to grumble about Mekkas. We are the number one economic engine in many windy, poor regions of the world. I have lived in many places where kiter friends knew very well how much life is worth – but at the same time complained loudly that the evil natives would charge more than the value of a life.
The sun is burning – and that brings sunburn. If you don’t like it, use SPF100, wrap yourself in a burka, go to Spitsbergen in winter! Or just shut the fuck up! It’s not our meccas who say: “Walk in a circle around a meteorite and yodel ‘Allah u akbar'” – it’s people like you and me who just do it. Some want to give too much and others gratefully accept it. (more…)
Brazilian Humour
The TV presenter jokes about three bus robber Bandidos who are currently being interviewed in Rio. They were successfully lynched by passengers. Two motionless bloody bodies are censored, one stammers with a rather blue face about failed heroic deeds. Brazilian humour is harsh. And Galinhos is safe, because there are only donkey carts and buggies here.
My Portuguese is making decent progress. I successfully inform the housekeeper that I have just eaten a cat. Impressed by my good taste, she immediately asked me if she should wash my grandad. After just a few minutes of sign language, I realise that she means my washing. I rarely understand the answers to my questions, but I am very impressed by the effect of my words. (more…)
High Noon Flat Water @ Galinhos
Around midday, we head one kilometre west on the Galinho side of the lagoon at low tide. The beach is now endlessly wide thanks to the low tide, and the lagoon and estuary offer several square kilometres of ironing board for the three of us kiters. The spot is heavenly. I don’t understand why there aren’t at least as many people here as in Cumbuco. Okay, it’s not “umpfumpf” here – unless you do it yourself. But life in a small village has other charms.
The wind is a bit lousy at first. The kite instructors run up on the shore a few times with 9m², I ride 13m² and am happy. Around one o’clock the wind picks up to a pleasant 18 knots, now we have hot water. Huge spray, high speed and bombastic crashes. The mangroves are the gangs, a few passing fishing boats are the balls and we are the cues. (more…)
You Should Surf, Not Surf!
The last 30 kilometres to Galinhos lead through endless wind farm forests over brilliant white sand dunes. Galinhos lies at the end of a long peninsula. The sandbank offers a unique variety of conditions for kitesurfing: on the land side is a large estuary, the perfect flat water spot. On the seaward side, the waves break evenly on the gently sloping beach.
The very first jump in the flat water after the waves inland knocks me out a good five metres. Landing in the waves, turn and out again. The waves are not big, but quite steep for a long time. Perfect ramps for endless gliding downwind. In 15 years of kitesurfing, I’ve never had a wave spot that offered such good conditions in both directions. (more…)
Goodbye Pipa!
On the last day in Pipa, the wind finally picks up. As has been the case all week: different from the forecast. In Pipa, hope is written differently. I go to Cacimbinhas Beach in the morning with an Argentinian radio presenter. A rough breeze sweeps over the edge of the steep cliffs. A small hut on a lonely beach, the sea and me. Everything is fine.
The waves are a little milder at Cacimbinhas than at Praia de Amor. But still 1.5 metres high and breaking hard. Wash, out and in, then after an hour some rain and calm. A little further south towards Praia de Madeiro, and the wind picks up again. Outside, the swell is high and steep, crashing into the next wave crest. At the end of the day, I limp home happy. (more…)
Kite Hike To The Barro De Cunhau
In the minivan to Cibauma, a gay German-Uruguayan couple on their honeymoon are having a great time mocking the baffling ways of liberal bureaucracy. According to their marriage licence, one of them is now a “senora” and therefore has to undergo a sex change, which they both find discriminatory and a complete turn-off.
At the end of a country lane, the bus driver kicks me off. I’m on my way to a legendary kite spot, the Barro de Cunhau. From Pipa, you would have to take a taxi for the 7 kilometres as the crow flies. After a short hike, I realise why. At high tide, you can only cross this river on a raft. Now, at low tide, I’m sinking waist-deep in water. (more…)
Kitesurfing Pipa: Praia do Amor
On the second day in Pipa, the wind finally doesn’t blow at night, as is so often the case here, but also during the day at a cosy 17 knots. The east-facing Praio de Amor is only 15 minutes away from the Sugar Cane Hostel. Standing on top of its cliffs, I finally spot the first other kiter. I hadn’t met anyone yet.
At high tide, Praio de Amor is just 7 metres wide in the less densely populated southern section. Even at low tide, it’s unlikely to be more than 12 metres wide. Directly behind it are steeply rising cliffs, some of which are overgrown with scrub. Thanks to the windward eddies caused by these cliffs, I make two really bad starts, which also happens to a few other kiters later on. (more…)
Rise of the Silver Surfer
No one who has ever had a real category five lumbago can ever imagine how infinitely superheroic you feel after its exodus. I’ve just had the worst lumbago I’ve had for many years. I would have been much more mobile in a wheelchair for the last three days – I could have sat in it. Nothing worked anymore.
After three days of physiotherapy, the very capable Surf Doctor Navarro deemed my back muscles soft enough to set the bones. 45 kg of physiotherapy instantly conquered the pain with a loud crack. From one second to the next, I am practically completely pain-free. I’m not religious. My problem certainly existed 2000 years ago. Without today’s knowledge, the Messiah was the only plausible explanation. (more…)
Toreros? Faggots!
It wears pink stockings in ballerinas, has pearly white teeth under toupee-like hairstyles and dances chuggingly in circles? Clearly: gay as the night is black. The Spanish, however, consider their toreros to be male heroes. The three of us have our first corrida. We were expecting blood – and got a slaughter.
In front of the arena there is a car with “Carnices” written on it. Surely just a coincidence, because the old Spaniard next to me later says that the bulls are not eaten. We enter the arena on the sunny side. The sun soon sets, and that’s a good thing. We unpack our wine in the shade. It will soon be needed. (more…)
Cut!
On the third day, the wind in Tarifa picks up to a good 35 knots. As we have to pick up Max from the airport in Jerez de la Frontera in the evening anyway, we decide to head north-west out of the wind. In the beautiful bay of Canos de Meca, a few kiters are already out in the sideshore wind, which is still quite strong here, with a swell of one and a half metres.
Some older locals comment on the wind conditions with “Hasta manana!” and pack up by midday. They are right. The wind is not only strong and gusty, but also interspersed with plenty of zero holes. Like a large wing, the current behind the isthmus of Tarifa breaks off completely for a few minutes at a time. (more…)
Heaven And Hell
We drive a good distance to Bolonia. At an over-celebrated pirate bar, I ask the last survivor. She points towards the beach. The only surf instructor points us away. 5 kilometres of beach, endless space, but we kiters are not allowed to fly. Frustrated, we turn back. It seems that there is only one free beach for kiters in Tarifa within a radius of 30 kilometres, and even there we have to make do with 100 metres of sole dominance.
For kiters, it’s either “forbidden under penalty” or Valdevaqueros / Spin-Out: swimming, surfing, kitesurfing – all together. Yes, it’s peak season. Yes, the wind is either chopping at 25 knots or, like today, it’s larking about with zero holes around 14, undecided whether it wants to be called Levante or Poniente. Either way, it’s crying out for safety. (more…)
Mekka!
The first day in Mecca brings us what we expected: Enlightenment. As regligion is never easy, the winds here are also quite challenging. At Valdevaqueros Beach, the main kite beach a few kilometres north-west of Tarifa, we are almost the first. The Levante has been active there for a long time.
Long before the midday crowd arrives at 10am, my 9m² are easily enough for the first ride through Mecca. Not only does the Levante fluctuate a lot in the 15-minute average, it’s also quite bucky and slightly offshore. After just under 2 hours, I’m pretty much exhausted and go ashore. Heaven is different, but being allowed to kite in Mecca is still an honour. (more…)
Always almost windy @ Gökova
For Germans, Turkey is a crisis area in times of the NSU and the police and interior ministries once again showing a clear right-wing bias. At the airport, the German tour guide speaks to us in English. Only on the bus in front of a small group does she switch to quiet German.
We try the same without success. But even in tourist centres, Turks speak less English than Thais on the edge of the Golden Triangle. Me at the airport “Surfboard: where?”. Turk points to the baggage carousel. Of course it comes out somewhere else, “surfboard” is simply too multilingual. (more…)
Dragon Slayer / Banderole Carrier
A lot has changed since my last visit to Egypt. My favourite hotel now has handcuffs. At reception, our hands are decorated with a red plastic band. At just under 30°, this ribbon is unconcealable. White skin alone is not enough. Is this revenge for our grandfathers’ yellow stars?
“So what?” thinks one person. For me, it’s a disaster. I am now branded as a travelling goat – not organic. And from the Grand Resort. Where you once had a good chance of bargaining without a Depperlband, every taxi driver now has the ultimate knock-out argument: 5-star roosters are there to be plucked. No matter how cheap the hotel is. (more…)
The Best For Last: Skyline Kiting!
In our three months in New Zealand, we didn’t give ourselves anything, lived frugally and hardly did without anything. We were able to compensate for the 50% increase in prices since 2008 by camping more and eating out less. Good living, almost 14,000 kilometres of rental car and a few adrenaline passes ended up costing us €1,800 per person per month plus €1,000 for the flight.
For one of the last three days in Auckland, we treat ourselves to pure luxury. The SkyCity Hotel is located right at the foot of the Skytower in the centre of Auckland. Huge rooms high up, even bigger beds, the latest cinema films on demand. A Korean barbecue at the table with 50 delicacies. We savour until our brains fail – and then even further. (more…)
The Rocket Kiter From Wellington
The animal experiments on manned space travel in the 1960s brought NASA one ground-breaking realisation in particular: dogs have a short life. To be precise: too short for interstellar space travel. NASA is therefore now looking for suitable human test subjects for longer-term employment.
The job advertisement calls for a pronounced bounce and promises excessive opportunities for inner contemplation as well as few pee breaks. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, which is why applications have so far fallen well short of NASA’s expectations. Rumour has it that the first test subjects have already been abducted. (more…)
Lake Wanaka & Rob Roy Track
Lake Wanaka is a kitesurfing hotspot on the South Island. Directly south of Mt Aspiring National Park, the lack of wind is bearable. My cold persists, as does the urge to move. We drive 50 km north along gravel roads full of flocks of sheep to the last car park in the national park.
The Rob Roy Track leads steeply uphill in the gorge of a glacial river. Last time I had to miss out here with Georg and Arnulf – my right knee was pretty sore from the Abel Tasman Track. This time the ascent takes a long time via some rock slides, but it’s doable. Once at the top, my lungs stop stinging. Dozens of waterfalls, dandelions and the white edge of the glacier sting my eyes. (more…)
Heaven Lies Before Paradise!
“Paradise – 37 km”, says the sign behind Glenorchy quite modestly. A few kilometres of dirt road through incredibly beautiful farmland before Mount Aspiring National Park and you’re there. First, of course, you have to cross the Jordan River. No problem, at this time of year the riverbed that runs across the track is dry.
The next two river crossings are also doable without a jeep. But the fourth, with a good 30 cm of water and large stones, shows Tutukaka his limits. This paradise is obviously only open to four-wheel drive vehicles. A great advertising idea for BMW, but certainly a bitter disappointment for religious extremists of all colours due to the inconvenience they have had to endure so far. (more…)
The Mermaid
I rode my first mermaid today! Hanmer Springs is a good way off the beaten track in the centre of New Zealand’s South Island. The way there leads along lonely roads past abandoned farms through golden hills. In Hanmer there is an overpriced thermal spa, a few hotels, pubs and the Dutch hostel owner Tristan.
After almost two weeks without a suitable wind, I’m completely under-kitted. The wind forecast in Kaikoura wasn’t right either. Instead of good wind, there was just a tornado, which put a second roof on the church. I studied the maps, but the lake that hostel owner Tristan was telling me about was so far off the beaten track that I couldn’t possibly find it. (more…)
Windy @ Wellington
Strong winds transform the wheat fields on the way from Wanganui to Wellington into billowing green seas. Shortly before Wellington we stop in Wakanae. The wind is weaker, but some kiters are already out in 15 knot full onshore waves over a metre high. The old year ends well with a few clean full washes.
We have an appointment with other travellers at YHA Wellington. Backpacker factory, but clean, large and well equipped. A four-course meal is a good basis for the New Year’s Eve feast, during which I lose Uli, don’t get to see any fireworks because of the storm and end up in bed at half past one, very tired from travelling. (more…)
The Author
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.