There are worse ways and worse places to spend the last day of you twenties. We’re parked up in Lobitos, a little surf/fishing town in North Peru and 4666 km north of where I was 3 weeks ago. After a fairly rushed trip north including 4 overnight buses its nice to be settled somewhere again. And settled we are. We have the top floor of a Victorian mansion apparently built by the British Royals when King Ed abdicated and needed somewhere to lie low for a while… Perched on a hill right on the middle of the beach we look up and down the coast. Useful for early morning surf decisions.
The main wave at Lobitos is a sand bottom left point. Apparently the wave didn’t even exist until the ’98 El Nino brought a huge amount of sand up from the south and filled in the bay. Just in time for the Victorian as apparently waves were washing up against the base of the cliff just prior and eroded away enough that the swimming pool collapsed. The sand isn’t great at Lobitos and the outside is a bit mushy before it walls up and runs along the sand through the inside. Really really fun. There are 4 or 5 other reasonable waves within walking distance to ease the crowd and a definite daily crowd cycle. Pretty classic watching the numbers in the water drop from 20+ late morning to 10, then 5, then 2 over lunch/siesta time Every Day. The locals are a mixed bag, some a really friendly and some are the worst i’ve come across. Had an incident on the beach yesterday when one, we’ll call Spaceman, told us very aggressively that we couldn’t surf the main point as it was for locals only. Ironic as he owned the big, ugly hotel right on the point & didn’t look like he’d surfed a day in his life. We figured he’d just sprinkled too much crack in his cereal that morning and kept walking. Weird.
Plans to head to Mancora for my 30th were put on hold with a new swell due the 17th. Again, there are worse places to spend a birthday.