This morning I saw familiar face. Couple of days ago he threatened to tax me for making my home to the beach. Now we met again. This time I had only finished my first breakfast. He handed me a notification and recoded my home to his aperture apparatus telling me to pay a visit to the council of freedom.

Officer 04 was not pleased to find pair of underwear and feces from the floor of the relieving facilities that morning. The place was under he’s jurisdiction and he felt disgusted. It must have been some orcs I thought to myself. He had come to other conclusion. He’s face and tone of the voice revealed great dislike against wonderers like me with weird looking feet.

Folks like me don’t like sleeping inside safe and fenced areas that ask silver for protection. They make me feel separated from the world around me but it was pointless to go to that discussion with 04. I did mention my lack of silver coins but he had made his mind. He seemed to enjoy his authority and being able to pull out his badge. This maneuver probably doesn’t happen that often in the winter time when the visitors from other worlds stay out of this windy and cold coast.

With my freshly written note I went to the cave where the council kept cover from the coming storm. Beautiful and tall, almost nobel, lady with ruling eyes greeted me and saw the note in my hand. It was all a bit awkward and she told Steve that I was here to pay my dues.

The lady was a bit surprised when I mentioned that Steve had introduced himself as Officer 04. She smiled at me saying that she was number 01 here. I smiled and looked her in the eyes: “I can see why that is.”. “That’s a good one.”, I heard from the background where Steve was putting the paper work ready.

02 or 03 (not sure which) swiped my plastic and as she returned the card I tried to look her in the eyes. She looked down. Half reluctantly, scared of what she might see in my eyes, she finally lifted her head and looked at me. I smiled warmly and thanked her for the receipt.

As I started walking deeper into the same cave, to the section where books can be borrowed, I heard 01 giving some orders: “04, could you sort these papers for me.”.

The book cave was a warm place to take cover from the storm that seemed imminent.

Half a moon ago I was in Northland. It is still free of the crushing powers of Sauron. There I slept my nights on the beach listening as the local dreadlocked Maoris cruised around with their automobiles. The sun seemed to shine almost always. I did witness a clash between Maoris and a white businessman trespassing to their land. That time the local authorities were required. It had reached the north as well, I thought afterwards. Come to think of it it had probably never really gone away.

The cloudy and windy Raglan is only a stone throw away from where I’m heading soon – Mt. Doom. It’s the epic center of tourism in the north island and for a while I have felt how it’s trying to pull me in.

Now I know that in that place lays my destiny. I have to get rid of the Thing. I’m waiting for my funny feet to heal so I can wear my shoes again. The rocks are sharp and treacherous where I’m heading, the wether changes fast, and some never return from that mountain.

Hopefully soon I’ll be able climb up the mountain and throw the Thing into the debts of it. They may have made my silver bag lighter but the determination only grew stronger. For that I thank 04.

The plan how to get through the Black gate without paying heavy fines of the access to Mt. Doom is still a mystery. Yet I am confident.

Arriving to Marquesas Island of Fatu Hiva having just suffered some set backs with health was quite the experience. Amazing landscape and friendly people all around. People practicing for the annual dance festivals was quite intense experience. The landscape in Fatu Hiva was spectacular. Then again that was the case in every place.

Next up was Hiva Oa where I just jumped of from the first catamaran and changed to another one of the same manufacturer, just a one step bigger. Oh and the catamaran was missing it’s mast.

We motored to Tuamotus which is an island group consisting of tens of atolls. I always thought that atolls are small places where you can swim across the whole ring. Well it turned out that these atolls where huge and you couldn’t even see the other side. I saw my first world cup football match on an atoll called Ahé. Ghana – Paragua. Epic extra time and penalties!

The idea of stopping at different atolls was to search for waves to surf. We found some but my skills were gone or had never existed the way I though. The South African boys were killing it and I was just sitting on my board and trying to figure out how it all was suppose to work.

After a more than a week in Tuamotus we arrived to Tahiti. Oh man, it all looked so unreal. This crowded island with an actual city on it was something else. They even cleaned the phone booths in the morning. Big yachts and expensive everything was the norm. They even had a mac-store to change my blown up hard drive. My yearly e-reboot was over due. Some stuff was lost but not as much as a year ago in Mexico when unfriendly men mugged me.

Pretty soon after arriving to Tahiti it was my birthday, It also happened to be an epic wave day at the local pass and it’s reef break. I almost got a sweet wave but ended up getting hammered by the waves. Now I know what it feels to be scratching reef while moving high speed underwater and getting sandwiched by a board and big wave. Also it was the solar eclipse and football final so all and all it was a good day.

After so many months living on other peoples boats it was hard to let go of that easy feeling of not having to plan about tomorrow. I practiced independence on a 3 day hike on an island right next to Tahiti called Moorea. Beautiful island where I went walking for 3 days just with my tent and too much stuff.

First night I slept without a permission on someones forrest nearly getting lost there. Next night a beach guard invited me to his house because the beach was apparently dangerous place to sleep. Last night of that trip I slept on some river bank. All beautiful places.

After that I returned to the safety of the catamaran for couple of days to get rid of my flue and after that took all my belongings with me and decided to go somewhere. Trevor the South African baker & star observer recommended a beach break in Papara. It was suppose to have some sort of camping place somewhere. I took a bus, saw a river and a wave and jumped off. After 5 minutes of asking around I found a place called Taharuu Surf Lodge. Too easy.

I could put my tent on their lawn crowded by roosters and chickens. The place was cheap considering Tahiti and the owners where extremely polite. “No problem!” Every night I woke up to the sound of roosters at 1 a.m unless it was raining. During those rainy nights instead I just got soaked because my tent wasn’t really all that waterproof.

After almost a week of surfing I had gotten my confidence back and I could call my surfing surfing again. Sweet. Then it happened, I broke one of my fins on the rocks. Without any spare fins I decided to call it a surf. I went to Papeete to buy a plane ticket to New Zealand.

All this time I had some flyers out where I was trying to find a boat to New Zealand. Literally minutes after paying my flight I checked my email and saw an offer. I cancelled my flight and went to see the boat. I didn’t get convinced and called the airline again. The flight was back on. I got another offer but decided the ignore it.

All and all my hikes in French Polynesia were epic. Short and undemanding hikes which made up in the scenery. The last hike of 40km through Tahiti was by far my favorite. 3 nights sleeping in the rain and getting soaked by the constant rain was an incredible walk. The only tourists I saw where once a day coming with 4WD´s and looking at me and scratching their heads. Hiking in Tahiti and French Polynesia is quite rare. Then again when you look at the average tourists in these islands it’s no surprise.

Last morning was Sunday and there were no busses to be seen. I hitchhiked to the airport and hopped on an airplane.

So that is my Polynesia experience in a nut shell. I hope the photos will give some depth to these words.

French Polynesia in 100 photos or 5:27 minutes (No idea why the quality is so bad…)

What did I learn of all this? If you see a bird flying over you in the sea it does NOT automatically mean that land is close by.

Lately I´ve been trying to really concentrate on getting the right exposure and also frame my shots more carefully.

My longest lens is fixed 100mm f/2.0 (meaning I don´t have x10 zoom). To get the idea of this lens just extend your arm straigh forward and spread your fingers as far a part as you can. The view you see is the view I see with my longest lens.

To most people Galapagos is known for nature and to some for uncrowded surf. With my 100mm lens I had to use carefull aproach with animals and some imagination framing surfing shots.

I could and maybe even should buy a 100-400mm lens for nature and sports but why do it the easy way? This isn´t so much about what gear I have but more about what can I do with the gear I have.

Sneaking up close to sea iguanas without them running away at some point wasn´t always easy. My nature photography ethics say that if the animal runs away at some point of photo session it´s not cool. These photos live up to that principle. There might be some spit on my lenses from angry iguanas. That is a border-line case in my book…

Oh, no more major post production on this blog, maybe. Cropping has never been my thing.

You can follow Flina´s progress from this link.
http://www.winlink.org/dotnet/maps/PositionReportsDetail.aspx?callsign=KL2VC

So I´ve got some bigger things ahead but before those I decided to have another mini break. Now I´m in Santa Catalina which is a really nice surf village by the Pacific Ocean. I´ll post some photos sometime in the future. The only internet place of the town is a 30 minutes walk from where I´m staying so I can´t be bothered to start nerding around right now.

Wave for surfing is world class when it gets big. Reef break surrounded by rock. Surf it only when it´s high tide. There are plenty of other surf spots as well.

The town has only the basic stuff you can ask for. If you get lucky the only shop of the town has bananas. You can forget ice cream and fresh fruits. Still this place is pretty perfect. Tourism hasn´t really picked up yet so surfing is uncrowded.

Photos of the place in the future. Also I´ll tell more about my future plans in the near future. Let´s just say that where I´m going it wont be crowded…

Oh, I forgot the best part. My unfinished hostel room has a wall missing. That means that in the morning I wake up to the sound of waves. Finally when I get the strength to open my eyes I can check if one of the most famous surf breaks of Panama works or not. I mean I don´t even have to sit up. That is pretty sweet. Surfer´s Paradise.

The signs were there, at least so I said to myself. I was running out of wax for my board, my muscles had grown few millimeters, I had lost some weight from my belly, and finally I broke my board while hitting my friends board with it. The sum of all this made me think it’s time to move on. I think I was surfing here in Playa Carmen for 2 weeks or so. I’m not sure since I wasn’t really counting.

The good thing about breaking my board is that it does give me a perfect excuse to continue my travels (even I have difficulties believing that phrase). This whole surfing thing was just too much fun and at the same time I know that at some point I would definitely break something in my body (the lame logic continues). So far my surfing accidents have been minor: small cuts, bruises, moments of breathlessness and general physical fatigue.

Most irritating issue during the last weeks by the beach was by far a Finnish Cosmopolitan magazine. I tried reading it couple of times and severe irritation and anxiety hit me every time after few minutes of reading. Really, who reads that stuff? If in my next life I decide to become a millionaire I’m going to start publishing men’s and women’s magazines and telling them how to live their lives and how to please the opposite sex.

If you like surfing and you have your 2 weeks winter vacation and don’t want any extra hazle and culture shocks, you should probably come to Costa Rica. It’s the easiest country to travel and you don’t have to speak spanish at all (which sucks). Luckily I did meet a really nice person from israel in the hostel to whom I could speak spanish. She didn’t have the “school” accent that almost every single European and American traveler usually has. Sometimes it feels like a job to talk spanish with “those” people. Sorry.

I probably took my surfing project a bit seriously since I hardly saw anything except the beach and the hostel. Then again, now I feel like my (brain)batteries are charged and I’m ready for new challenges (Don’t believe that phrase either).

One thing is for sure. I’m going to miss surfing.

Little bit about the surf spot at Playa Carmen:
The place is chilled. ATV’s and pick-ups roam the narrow beach road. There are no high buildings and the place is surrounded by green. It all feels natural. The ferry you have to take to get to the peninsula slows down the development just enough so the place will hopefully stay easy going for some years to come.

At least at this time of the year there are waves all the time. One of the reasons why it’s a great place to come for your holidays. You don’t have to worry about tides here since the waves work all the time. This place has lefts and rights. Somedays it gets big and it takes 5-15 minutes to paddle out and somedays when the sea is calm you get there in few minutes. My personal enemy number one was the sun. I could only surf early in the morning and late in the evening. It can get crowded but only for an hour or so around 8 a.m and 5 p.m.

San Jose
Now I’m in San Jose for couple of days. It was suppose to be a one night layover but I found a camera cleaning service so I have to wait a day to get it back. Next stop is probably Panama. I’m sure Costa Rica is an amazing country but I’m trying to convince myself to believe that this country has nothing new to offer after all the other Central American countries. Besides you spend double the amount of money here compared to for example Nicaragua which has half the amount of tourism.

San Jose didn’t impress me that much after 2 hours of walking. Active city with people selling lots of things on the streets but hardly the kind of metropolitan like Guadalajara in Mexico. For window shopper like me the stores are full of exported stuff from US and on every second corner you can find a McDonaldDucks.

Next
If you know anything worth checking out in Panama before Panama City, please let me know. I’m tired of reading other peoples guide books and traveling on the Gringo-path.

Disclaimer of the day
I apologise for putting the photos always as a one group. It’s just too much clicking if I was to put all the photos to their proper places. I think I spend enough time infront of this fake world as it is. Besides there is always an other story within the photos if you look carefully.

I think I left Nicaragua behind about a week ago. A river boat took us to the border. From there I got a bus to San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. Stayed there for one night in a hostel that was expensive and shit. The next morning I took a bus to Jacó which was suppose to be nice place to surf. It turned out that the city was ugly and from what I understood quite restless. The surf sucked as well since the hight tide and the only ridable wave was at noon. After burning my face there for two days I left the place behind.

In Jacó I did meat this interesting american hostel owner who had pretty tragic past. He used to be rich and had moved to Costa Rica to spend his retirement days in a warm place. Let’s just say that things didn’t really work out with his business, health, family or anything else for that matter. His hostel made no money what so ever and now he was about to loose his only reliable worker. The next step he said was to close down the hostel. Turn the living room next to the road into a punch of showers and rent them to people who come to the beach on weekends. He was also planning on renting the rooms for prostitutes during the night. Prostitution apparently is legal in Costa Rica and it would be easy money to rent the rooms for the women and their customers. Both of the new ideas were suppose to make more money than money saving backpackers, and I believed him.

Other story I bumped into was Costa Rica’s only school for prostitutes. It’s located in Jacó. Apparently the aim of the school is to teach women how to please men properly. All the sexual positions etc. and how to make it all work fast since the prostitutes usually have up to 5 customers per night.

Boy on the ferry

Those stories didn’t make me want to stay in Jacó so I took a bus heading to Puntas Arenas. From there I hopped on a ferry across the gulf of Nicoya. After 8 hours of traveling I arrived to Santa Teresa which is a pretty nice location to throw your brains out of the window and just enjoy the surf and relax in a hammock.

4 hours of surfing every day is a nice way to spend time and figure out what to do next. Probably in 2-30 days I’ll head south and towards the border of Panama. I’m sure Costa Rica is a nice country but from what I’ve heard it’s got all the same things that the rest of Central America has except everything is more expensive. I just can’t be bothered. Apparently if you want to see volcanoes here, you can just take a buss and it’ll drop you of at the crater. That is tourism right there, or something else, I don’t know.

I think I’m too restless to be able to enjoy a great surf and relaxing atmosphere. It’s a bit boring to just eat, surf and sleep. Most of the people come here to escape their everyday life. For me this is my everyday life, for now. I think I like diving more.

I have to mention one more thing. This hostel where I’m staying is probably the best hostel of this trip. It’s got big kitchen, electricity plugs everywhere, hammock, fully booked all the time, good solid beds, store right next to it, beach right next to it and all the guests are really laid back. These people don’t even steal my food from the fridge, not all the time at least. I love this place. The only thing I don’t like is the pillow and the little expensive price. If you someday decide to find a hostel I suggest you hire me as your consultant. By now I pretty well know what is a good hostel made of, just like the travelers that build up this place.

Needles to say, I haven’t really taken photos while surfing. These things don’t go hand in hand (surf board & camera) and still I carry both of them with me. One in my left and one in my right hand.

Last 7 days I was on an isolated beach sleeping in a hostel right next to the beach. It was called xxx. Cool place and good for learning surfing. No internet and the solar power gave just enough electricity to bring some light to the architecturally not so pretty building during the nights. I ended up spending most of my time on reading and enjoying the sea and waves.

Photos? Sorry. Surfing was best at sunrise and sundown and during the day it got incredible hot so I just stayed in the shadow trying not to get skin cancer.

I have a surprise! I have a week long plan (give or take few weeks)! One of the first ones of this trip. I’m now in Granada, Nicaragua. I’ve decided to take a boat to the island of Omitepe where there is a volcano in the middle of big lake. After that I’m taking another boat to the Caribbean coast cruising through the river San Juan at the border of Nicaragua and Costa Rica. It’s one of the only border rivers in the world that is totally owned by one country (Nicaragua). Lots of history on that river. Back in the day Henry Morgan the famous pirate did trips up to river to spread fear and terror to local communities. Also the river was suppose to be the connection between the two major oceans but eventually Panama got the fame from that thing.

The rom is kicking in and I’m tired of writing. dozen of replied emails and facebook messages is hard work. It’s time to call it a night.

I’ll promise to try to take proper photos of the river so stay tuned.

Some snapshots and and the end a bedbug photo. This time they were smaller so one bite didn’t itch that much. The problem was that there were around 200+ bites. It’s going to be one of those itchy weeks, again.