Land Unlocked: Raglan, New Zealand
Preface: Though the point of this website is to highlight fresh water surfers, shops and waves…every once in a while I think it is appropriate to tell a short story from the sea. Bear with me, we’ll get back to the lakes and rivers that we all know and love soon.
Raglan felt unlike any place we had ever been. The journey to get there was long and involved multiple bus rides, a plane and a whole lot of waiting around. We arrived without a surf board or any real means of transportation so we made arrangements that fell within our very limited budget. Two bikes helped us get from point A to point B as well as a bus that ran twice a day, which we often missed. Though that never seemed to bother us as local surfers were always able to lend us a ride back from the beach whenever we really needed it. We bought an old school 7’0” board with a set of original glassed-in fins and a flaming blue paint job on the nose from a Canadian girl we met on Facebook marketplace. It seemed like the perfect board for a couple of kooks chasing a life unknown.
Our days in Raglan were simple. Every morning started with that unbeatable New Zealand coffee and a bike ride or walk to the beach. We would then spend the next few hours taking turns on our old board. Slowly learning its preferred maneuvers and reporting back to each other on what we had learned. As one person surfed, the other would study the water as well as the people in it. We’d tell each other about our best rides and our worst falls and laugh as we’d reenact how we thought we looked on our favourite waves. I remember one beautiful peeling left, weaving though bobbing heads and finally looking up to see the vibrant, rolling green hills in front of me. Once we got back to our “bach” we’d grab some beers from the local brewery and of course a pie from the bakery - a resource I once thought of as abundant. At night we might walk into town, along the little waterfront or play cards in our backyard as the sun came down. Either way we’d be tired from our long day outside and in bed early. To call Raglan a surfer’s paradise would be very true, but I believe that just the word paradise may suit it even better.