I have found a quiet community on a sunny coastline to stay for the winter. The place is remote, and it feels fresh. I have been without a car, phone, and a clock for a month now and don’t miss them at all.

There are no utility companies that service this peninsula, so residents are all on solar power here. This is a new experience for me, and I have wanted to go fairly native for a while, so it is a welcomed adjustment.

My inexpensive rental is in good proximity to a couple of surf spots. It is not the best time of year for strong swells to hit this coast, but I have been riding small, good-shaped waves every day, and often alone.

Lots of water time. I don’t think I have been this tan in years.

This is the dry season, so it is easy to cruise here with warm, comfortable daytime temps and not much humidity. I am feeling very free and better than I have in a long, long time.

With no one else in the water and being such a removed region to live in, I am learning more about myself. The learning never stops!

From the waves, I occasionally will spot a youngster who will be seen throwing a fishing line out in the surf along the shore. From a distance, the boy walks into my perspective, and as he walks past, he moves away from my perspective into the distance.

When out surfing, the water is alive with activity. I keep alert to any danger, but I figure there are plenty of plump fish out here for the larger creatures in the food chain to eat besides me.

My Writing Process

After a morning of surfing and some breakfast, I will be back at the beach. I have been wandering the shoreline for shells and ideas for the book.

I have been writing quite a lot of verse and stories while staying here. Potentially good compositions are saved, and of course, some get thrown away. One obscure, discarded line may show up later in another piece.

At night by candlelight, I have been pouring out the words on paper. Lots of editing and rewrites, but there is a warm feeling of fulfillment when you know a poem or short story is complete.

There has to be a flow before I feel it is finished.

I work on many written projects at the same time; this way, I can return to a concept and find new inspiration and direction. Sometimes writing is a gentle struggle, and sometimes it is intuitive, and appropriate words come with clarity.

I enjoy the whole process.

Slow Life

My colorful shells fill little nooks and crannies back at the small cottage where I am staying. My surfboard sits in an alcove near the door. There are simple, cozy chairs to lounge in, the bed is comfortable, and there is a nice porch out front for early morning tea.

The place is soulful. It has screens instead of windows lining the upper third of the walls. This allows the afternoon sea breeze to flow unmolested throughout the house.

A pleasing mango tree and some moody palms rest satisfied in the front yard. The cottage fits my needs quite well for the next couple of months.

I will often watch the sunset from a local restaurant. You can hear the sweet sound of the surf from the bar, the floor is swept clean every few hours, and the owner and his wife are proud of their business.

Besides making a great margarita, I have told them on a few occasions that they know the secret of preparing fresh fish to perfection!

Life moves slowly here on this sunny coast.

I am getting a lot of writing done, the waves may build in size soon, and there are a lot of new shells to discover.

It is very hard to think about wearing a wetsuit again and surfing the cold water back home in California. Maybe I will just stay here for the next few months and work on my tan.

Words by Lorenzo Lago | Surfer, Writer, and Author of “Journey”