Dumb Ass Gringo

When I arrived in Playa Negra/Los Pargos, Costa Rica, to set down stakes, back in 2001, I had “DUMBA*S GRINGA” written on my forehead. I was soaked in it. 

After two years, I was beached. My motor was rusted and my hull was dark. I had gone beyond my limit.

Now mind you, I had surfed and surfed and surfed.

There’s a silver lining to every cloud. The downside of being here, experiencing what is called “the learning curve”; like somehow calling it that, makes everything OK: I chalk up as part of the adventure.

We’re not called “gringos” for nothing.

They say what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.

 

       

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