126. Fall down eight times, get up nine.

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This is not a picture of me and my friend before we both fell in. But it may as well be.

 

While we’re on the subject of action man activity in Colombia, I may as well share my sunset SUP experience right?

I’d done it once before in New Zealand and, weirdly for an unbalanced girl (physically not mentally, although that could be in dispute), I didn’t fall off once.

The promise of an apricot sunset  lured me and there I was with my Colombian bum stuffed into my Lonely two piece, limbering up to repeat my performance.

Around 5pm a small group of us went out , the sun sitting low and fat near the horizon ready to take it’s nightly dip into the sea.

The boy racer jet skiers circled us, creating waves where there were none before.

Bless you all boys, and your overactive glands.

I was up quickly, and down in a flash. This was repeated often.

The sea was warm, and I was free, and I didn’t even hurt my pride.

I missed the sunset.

Who gives a fuck.

(This post has turned into a kind of a haiku).

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