My first morning in Aruba was ideal. The crew at the Vela windsurf centre greeted me with open arms, made space for my gear and even offered to rig it for me! The wind is light, so whilst waiting for an increase I lay down on a sun lounger, relaxed, and listened to some Latin American reggae beats. I last about 45 seconds until I’m bored. I sigh, remove my professional windsurfer blinders, and go windsurfing. I’m going windsurfing not to train, not to do photos, not even to plane, because there isn’t any wind! I’m just going to enjoy cruising around and exploring on my windsurfer because Aruba begs to be explored. I ‘schlog’ northwards, parallel to the shore in the offshore breeze, spotting the site of my vivid depressing memory. I realize how magnificent the site really is as I gaze upwind across shades of turquoise towards the white sand beach. How could I have been in a bad mood on a beach as beautiful as that? I spot a few colourful sails and kites being prepared on the beach. Perhaps their owners know something I don’t about the afternoon’s wind? I continue past a shipwreck backdropped with a two-lane palm tree lined avenue. Sea turtles pop up in front of my board, and then quickly scoot out of my way. I keep sailing on towards Arashi Beach, a snorkelling heaven where a few sailing yachts are anchored and tourists explore the underwater world. I finally decide to turn back towards what looks like an Aruban version of Miami from afar; high-rise hotels nearly glued one to the other. I was stoked to catch a few gusts on the way back and throw a few moves in front of the renowned spot, “Fisherman’s Huts”.