In which a prodigal son makes a somewhat sacrilegious return to Nusa Dua

Your blog correspondent has always been an east side guy, and for decades from the early days was a regular at Nusa Dua (Some time ago I wrote this). I stopped going because of the traffic and the creeping incrementalism of age wreaking havoc upon my bones, principally my back.

After vertebra surgery, I rehabbed on a SUP and stuck to that for a year or so before venturing forth again prone on a long board close to home in Sanur. Then the other month I finally took the toll road to Nusa Dua and much to my amazement was at the Nusa Dua Bar and Grill parking lot overlooking Geger beach in about half an hour or so. Half an hour! Compared to the gridlock days, that’s akin to instant teleportation.

The surf looked kind of small, and the paddle out kind of long, so I opted for the SUP, and learned again the lesson that at Nusa Dua, the surf is always larger than it looks. Some very attractive overhead peaks were breaking blue and clean at Chicken Wings (I don’t know what it’s called these days) but with ten surfers trading off and me being on the SUP, I resolutely stuck to the inside wrap (Chicken Feet?) where there weren’t any board surfers.

However, those outside peaks were too irresistible and I sneaked up for a taste. Just one I told myself. And in came a peak larger than the rest, and I was in perfect position (SUPS are almost always in a perfect position for the best waves, it must be said, it’s a matter of whether the SUPer is going to be a selfish hog). Then, just I stroked into it, the wake from a passing boat rippled across it and threw me off balance and down I fell and I am sure the surfers on the inside were grinning. This was the end of my session.

SUP legcut

A minor injury but lordie did it ache deep to the bone. Those SUPs are battering rams.

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