From Durban, I got an early morning bus to Umtata, where I waited with some others who had arrived off the Baz Bus backpacker bus for the shuttle to arrive from the hostel I was staying in Coffee Bay. Coffee Bay is a very remote village on the Wild Coast, which is pretty much as it sounds, wild and beautiful. It’s also known for its great conditions for learning to surf. Surf lessons were also ridiculously affordable, at the equivalent of $5 CAD.

Over all of my travels, I have tried to surf many times. Many times. But I had never really given it enough time to get decent, or the conditions were too tough. Or I injured myself walking home from surfing and spent a week recovering in El Salvador….Most recently, I had taken a lesson in Peniche, Portugal with a friend and been re-invigorated. So this time, I was determined to at least spend a few weeks giving it a go. So I signed up for group lessons for the following day.

Time to Surf

The conditions were perfect, the boards were beginner boards, very few people in the water and the instructor was great. I soon had a couple of surfing buddies and we took the boards out the following day as well to practice. After that, we were of course exhausted, but it was exhilarating and I was loving it. The following day we geared ourselves up to go in the afternoon (after much deliberation due to being exhausted and the weather less than stellar). Just as we went to grab the boards, I returned to the table where I saw our friend Jill clutching her head. Turns out she had stood on a bench to get out from the table, slipped, and cut open her head. One of my surfing buddies, Kalinka, knew first aid, but upon inspection realized this was beyond simple first aid. The manager at the hostel instructed us to skip the closest clinic as it wasn’t good enough and gave us instructions to get to the next one, 20km away. 

Time for the Clinic

Luckily, Kalinka and Jorge had a car they had rented, so off we went. Upon arriving at the clinic, we were told Jill would need a clinic card, so Kalinka and Jorge went next door to the store to grab one while I waited with Jill. We were a little confused how you could get an official clinic book at the shop, but when they returned, we understood. It was a simple schoolbook notebook, and blank! Very important it would seem, as they filled out the first page with Jill’s visit details- which was really just further cleaning of her head, as they were not equipped to actually put in stitches. 

We then drove a further 40km or so to the hospital, which was a bit of a dire place. They were a bit overwhelmed due to it being a weekend (they joked that Jill must have been drinking when she hit her head- she definitely had not been), so it took two hours before we were able to leave, with three stitches in Jill’s head and another page in her exercise book filled up. They also sent her off with a bunch of drugs, and a bill for 40 rand (about $3 CAD). The drugs alone would have cost more in Canada. We made it back in time for dinner and beer.

Time for Covid Reckoning

The next day was raining and the conditions were rough, so we skipped surfing. At this point, the COVID 19 reality was starting to hit. Africa was probably the least affected continent (other than maybe Oceania), so we had all been a bit isolated. However, with travelers from all over the world at the hostel, we were starting to get the picture. The number of people at the hostel started to drop, as people began to head home. I was operating on a day by day basis, as it was hard to know what to do in such an unprecedented situation. My flight was scheduled 6 weeks later for May 3 to London, then home a week later. It was mid-March at this point.

After an evening discussing how everyone’s home country was operating with Covid, I would wake up to messages from home due to the time difference. It was hard to get information and make a decision, especially with very limited internet access. I had bought a South African sim card but the data only seemed to work if I climbed the hill behind the hostel, which turned a bit treacherous in the rain. The hostel did have wifi but the codes only lasted an hour and everyone was trying to get information, so it was painfully slow.

The final turning point for me was when the Canadian Prime Minister put out an advisory telling everyone to come home. I started looking at earlier flights and gave up on really learning to surf. Another time- post Covid!