The ocean has always scared me. Ever since an unfortunate jellyfish incident when I was 16, I've harbored a sense of dread for the sea. Apparently the older I got, the dread got bigger and was on the verge of becoming a full-fledged phobia. So, I took the bull by the horns and signed up for a surfing trip.

I arbitrarily picked Surfaris (www.surfaris.com), because they advertised that their trips aren't big moving parties. All they do is surf. They cater to beginners, but they'll take anyone who wants to go. So, I signed up and hopped on the bus early one sunny morning. We drove about 6 hours south toward Sydney and set up camp on a secluded little headlands overlooking the ocean. A pod of dolphins was swimming in the bay, a couple of kangaroos were hanging out next to the camping spot. Whales were swimming out in the deeper waters and beautiful birds filled all the trees. Paradise. When we first arrived, the waves were a bit big and "dumping", so the instructor expertly asked, "who has never surfed before?" There were 3 of us (more beginners were arriving later, the rest of the current group all had a minimum of experience). So, the instructor looked at me and the other two and said, "This is a surf board...this is the front, this is the back...that is the ocean. Ok, go." So, I went...and got the shit kicked out of me.

The rest of the week followed much of the same thread. We got up in the morning and had a yoga session, got suited up, and spent the day surfing. It was freezing, literally. I had ice on my board every morning. But, I dutifully put on my wetsuit (that's the worst part) and clamored down to the water. I'm an over-achiever by nature, so this probably isn't very surprising to anyone. By breakfast on the second full day, I was standing. I screamed exhaltedly, so loudly in fact that everyone came running to watch me stand on my first wave. It was bliss. I then got pummeled for the rest of the morning. Ah well, I guess it takes a little more practice.

As the week progressed, I spent more and more time in the water. When I wasn't actually IN the water, I was watching it (or sitting around the campfire trying to stay warm). What I lacked in skill, I made up for in enthusiam. I started taking on waves that were far to big for me, and that is when the bruising started. I currently have a great one on my chin that looks like I got belted by the wrong type of guy in the wrong type of bar. But I wear it as a badge of honor - it is proof that I was pushing my limits (or that I'm an idiot). By thursday I was on the green face of the wave (just once - but I was there). It was an experience of biblical proportions.

The tour was great. There were 20 surfers from 5 different countries (and no Germans!), 1 instructor (Jack), and 1 film-maker (Sheep). At one point, Jack took me out on his tandem surf board. It was great. On my third wave, I stood and balanced all the way into shore without any adjustments from him. I was stoked. Everyone was cheering and I felt like the ultra-surfer chick. It turns out they were cheering because Jack was doing a headstand on the board behind me...show-off. Ah well.

The tour has ended and I'm back in Byron Bay. I've decided to stay here and spend a little more time on a board. I've found a few girls that feel the same way, and we are taking the beach by storm.

Aussie Language: They add "ie" or "y" to everything. For example: truckies...as in, truck drivers. If you called a truck driver in the states a "truckie," you would stand to get your lights knocked out. Pokies - poker machines. Brizzie - Brisbane. "You can hop in with a truckie to get to Brizzie."