Jericoacoara

Jericoacoara (prounounced je-ri-kwah-kwah-ra), simply referred to as Jeri, is on the North-East coast of Brazil in the middle of endless sand dunes. It´s an idealic little beach town with sand streets, really chilled-out locals and great nightlife.



I spent a week there but by the end I was very happy to leave. The party scene is so good that it was almost impossible (well, for me at least) to go to bed before 5 in the morning. By day four I was feeling sleep deprived and by days six I was starting to get that "I´m getting sick" feeling.

There are a ton of activities in Jeri. While there I tried sandboarding down the dunes, lazed around on the beach, spent a great day on a dune buggy ride with a danish guy and a dutch-german girl (who is doing her Phd at Oxford - small world), and then, finally I tried to go windsurfing.




People from all over the world come to Jeri to windsurf because it is reknown for its strong wind and big waves. On the day the I went out the waves were only moderate in size but it was blowing 35 knots - offshore. For those of you who haven´t sailed or windsurfed, when the wind is blowing offshore it is difficult becuase if you are having any trouble you will be blown out to sea - in this case the Atlantic ocean.

So, in those conditions, not having windsurfed in 10 years I confidently rented my gear and headed for the water. It was a lot harder than I rembered and it was way windier than anywhere I´ve windsurfed before. I spent the first half hour flailing around in the water trying to waterstart. By the time I got up and had my first ride I was completely exausted. All I wanted to do was to head in and have a rest and a drink to get the salt water taste out of my mouth (I had swallowed quite a bit of water at this point). Unfortunately, I had spent so much time flailing around in the water that I had been blown well, well downwind of the beach. The only way to get back was to start sailing upwind. How the hell was I supposed to do that? The wind was so strong that I could hardly get up on the board. That´s when I had, what I would classify, as a mild to moderate panick attack.

Luckily, after a few minutes I calmed down and my old skills started to come back to me. I spent the next six hours (it was really only half an hour but it felt like six) sailing upwind back to the beach. When I finally got back to the beach I was completely drained and had to lay down for while. I later found out that the rental place was keeping an eye on my through binoculars and had a boat to rescue me if I was in trouble. Questions to ask before the next time I rent.

I kind of wish that I hadn´t gone windsurfing. I used to windsurf a lot - in fact I spent most of every summer of my late teens and early twenties windsurfing before I gave it up about 10 years ago. I have fond memories of it and, in my mind at least, I remembered being quite good at it. Well, this humbling experience shattered any remainder of that illusion.

Photo: me, exhausted but happy to be back on shore.