Anyone who has been following my blog for awhile will notice that it has been some time since I made any updates, leaving a couple of months to catch up on. The reason for this gap is that I have found myself in a bubble for the past 7 weeks, though after managing to make an escape I am now using the flight to London to add some colour to those months.

The Fish House

First though let me explain the bubble. When I decided to pack up and start travelling, it wasn’t quite without a plan. There was a rough outline which formed around two particular experiences, the first of those was to train as a windsurfing instructor with the faint idea that I might decide it becomes my next career path. That is how I ended up in Vassiliki, Greece on a Flying Fish Course. Taking a rather round about route, I arrived in Vass at the beginning of June to settle in to the fish house. The intention was to stay for 5 weeks, a week of play and the 4 week course; I relished the opportunity to unpack for the first time since April. In my first days there was something I could not put my finger on, I still can’t, but I have come to call it the Vassiliki bubble. It is a unique place where everyone who finds themselves under its breeze comes to love and it is not hard to see why, it is all about lifestyle. The thing is that while you are in Vass nothing of the outside world seems to get in, there never seems to be time to contact people at home, news is something that happens in places that exist in the real world and the conversations only ever seem to revolve around what size sail or board you are using or who hooked up with who the night before.

Idyllic beaches, 

Manic mountain biking and

Epic windsurfing, it is not hard to see why people don’t want to leave. 

I attribute this bubble to the fact that every week in Vass is the same, people’s routines may vary slightly, generally based on how well they can handle the limited hours of sleep, but mine looked something like:

  • Sunday – change over day with a slow empty Club Vass, generally a light wind morning session followed by a high wind afternoon session and an attempt at an early night which normally resulted in processing photos till too late an hour. (Most people would be out on the swill on Sunday more than likely at Zeus bar.)
  • Monday – Light wind morning session then high wind afternoon.
  • Tuesday – Morning cycle followed by either a SUP or light wind session then high wind afternoon. Live music at Wildwind in evening and Zeus bar until the wee hours.
  • Wednesday – hangover permitting (almost never) morning cycle followed by light wind session then high wind afternoon.
  • Thursday – Morning cycle followed by either a SUP or light wind session then high wind afternoon. (Most others head off to cocktails at Wildwind, which inevitably ends up at Zeus bar, I never made it once).
  • Friday – Morning cycle followed by either a SUP or light wind session then high wind afternoon. Evening id time for Club Vass BBQ which goes on to the early hours of the morning.
  • Saturday – Day off for most which means recovery, I rarely made it out of bed before lunch, after which I’d stroll down to the beach for a photo session and then energy permitting have a high wind session myself. (A hardy few can always be found at Zeus Bar in the evening)

The infamous Zeus Bar

The only time this routine was broken was for the assessment week where I played it safe and didn’t involve myself in evening shenanigans and the morning sessions were replaced with presentations both given and received. Before I knew it 5 weeks were up and I had qualified as a start windsurfing instructor but I had not given any thought as what to do next and as such decided to stay for another two weeks and fell back to the routine.

Light wind mornings. 

Now a month and a half on my body is feeling the toll of too many forward loop attempts and my mind is struggling to recollect the months gone by. It seems like an age has passed since I was finishing off my Africa travels by visiting family and friends in South Africa. The round about route to Greece starting with a 30hr train journey and ending with a 170 euro taxi ride contrasting my most recent travel experience of hitch-hiker friendly taxis. It is increasingly difficult to focus on the past when the second experience is looming closer and is to be coupled with a tenuous route to America, so as I weed out the memories I’ll leave you pondering what the next experience might be and throw out a question. Does anyone know of a couch in Bermuda that I might sleep on next week?