The World Tour of Oopsies: Chapter 10—The Frenchies

Aug.6.2025

[The World Tour of Oopsies is an ongoing series of travel stories about my first decade of travel. During these adventures and misadventures, I had to unlearn many things I thought I knew about life. Welcome to my miseducation.]

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Catch up on the World Tour of Oopsies:

Part I / Costa Rica

Still in Costa Rica for my first year of Global Studies, I was ready to strike out on my first independent study. Like you might remember, my college was a little experimental (see: Ch. 9) and didn’t fit into a traditional mold.

Instead of tests and midterms, we conducted field interviews and independent studies.

During my freshman year, I decided to go all-in on investigating the spirituality of surfing. Part of my study involved researching the origins and evolution of surfing as a hobby and sport. Another element was studying the psychology of sports and movement, mostly the concept of the flow state, created by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. (He’s called The Father of Flow—very cool guy.)

Lastly, I would be doing on-the-ground research by interviewing and observing real-life surfers along Costa Rica’s most popular (and surfable) coastline, mostly around Samara and Nosara in the country’s northwest.

Now that I’m writing this, I’m wondering if it would have been cooler to write about the conclusions of that study and the relationship between surfing, spirituality, and biology. Instead, I’m writing about a group of young French men (the Frenchies). Alas.

Part II / Samara

There are French people everywhere; they’re the group I most often meet in hostels, airports, and around the farthest reaches of civilization. So, it wasn’t a shock when a classmate and I rolled up to our treehouse hostel in Samara and found that we’d be sharing the bungalow-style setup with three French travelers and surfers.

It worked out perfectly; we met in the communal kitchen and introduced ourselves. That’s when the Frenchies offered to help us learn the basics of surfing. I only remember one of their names: Louis. He would be my chief surfing instructor.

Part III / Surfing

Heading to Samara to learn about the spirituality of surfing put me smack in the middle of one of Costa Rica’s most surfable beaches. That being said, it’s not an ideal spot for beginners—it’s a place with respectable swells where experienced surfers can catch the perfect barrel.

Cut to me being thrown every which way as Louis helped me learn the ropes. I was good at some parts of surfing, like picking up on the sets and having the patience to pick the right wave.

I was bad at everything else, like paddling and popping up, and staying up. I was mediocre at holding my breath as wave after wave crashed down over me.

But Louis was a great teacher. He was patient, and I remember sitting on our surfboards and chatting. He talked about the ocean, about how surfing is done with nature; surfing only happens when Mother Nature sends in a good set.

Other times, we didn’t talk much. In those moments, we were just enjoying the scenery, the cool water, and the warm sunlight. That was another important part of surfing: patience, intuition, and connection with the outdoors.

And then there was Louis. Looking back, it’s hard to separate him from the study. He was a living encapsulation of the spirituality of surfing, distilled into a human form.

Part IV / I can’t run fast

For around ten days, my classmate and I conducted our independent study from the treehouse hostel in Samara. Toward the end, the Frenchies packed their bags and prepared to head to another hostel in search of wilder beaches. They had a huge off-road jeep, perfect for loading up colorful surfboards.

I remember the afternoon my classmate and I were heading back to the hostel with plans to say goodbye. Instead, we saw the back of their Jeep as it cruised down the dirt road, away from Samara. We took off running and shouting, but they didn’t hear us; and we didn’t make it far because we had our surfboards with us.

I have never seen or heard of the Frenchies again, but I’d like to meet Louis again before I die. I would recognize him.