Surf in Italy: barbarian days
It was the words of Finnegan that sparked my curiosity about surfing, captivated by the romantic idea of living for a passion rather than trying to ride the time we don’t have.
On paper, everything seemed smooth, but can you surf in Italy? I thought not… Blissful ignorance. The crazy thing is that I could start right among the waves I grew up with. The answer was simple: my Liguria.
It all started in Levanto in an academic way. Brothers Surf: school and lessons. No, you don’t stand up on that board right away. You feel clumsy, awkward, and terribly humbled by baby surfers who make it all look like a game. If after a lesson where your ego has been reset to level -1, you still feel the urge to do it again, then start coming back, study, and ask questions.
I continued to Andora at the Cinghiale Marino. Curiosity turned into a passion that continues day by day with friends from Surfer’s Den. The wave alert is always active; a signal, and I’m cruising up and down Liguria to get into the water with my Cuda.
What is surfing teaching me? First of all, it’s a complicated sport, not for style but for dedication. It teaches calmness and requires humility and respect. The first big lesson, however, was to learn to look at reality with different eyes, starting right from Liguria, which I now ride from Levante to Ponente in search of its hidden treasures.