The family adventure trip that reminded me life is for living
Whenever I visit my mother in her nursing home, I have the same thought as I leave — that I must live life while I still can. That fun must be had, parties held, friends visited, hikes done, cocktails tried and new places explored.
Which is why I was in Trapani, on the northwest corner of Sicily, for a week in August, standing in a vast, shallow, seawater lagoon — too big to see where it started or finished — learning how to kitesurf.
It is a crazy sport. Frankly, too crazy for me, a 52-year-old mother-of-three. When my husband and our three children decided to learn last year, also in Trapani — it’s popular among kitesurfers for its strong wind and shallow, calm water — I stayed at home and worked. I missed them, but I didn’t miss the chance to learn to kitesurf.
A couple of weeks before we left we watched Team GB’s Ellie Aldridge win the first gold in the sport’s Olympics debut. She was incredible, flying across the sea in Marseilles, but my main thought was: “No bloody way.”
For somebody who finds sticking to speed limits in a car pretty effortless, it looked like the sport of lunatics. You stand on a hard board, roughly the size of a bodyboard, with each foot in a loose strap. Above you is a 12 sq m kite — it might be smaller or bigger, depending on the wind — attached by four thin strings to a bar. The bar is attached to a harness around your waist. You zoom at up to 60mph across the sea. Well, 60mph if you are a professional, 15mph to 25mph if you’re not. You jump in the air. And spin while you’re doing it. And weave dexterously between all the other kitesurfers to your left, right, in front and behind.
My tactic for the week was to try, not to conquer. Frankly, I thought to myself on the 7.10am flight from Stansted, I’ll do one hour’s lesson, tick the “I tried” box and return to my book and a cup of tea. I would then generously take on the job of videoing the others’ impressive antics from the beach, or take myself off to Erice, the medieval hill town near Trapani also known as “the city of 100 churches” (though there are fewer than that).
Except from day one I found I was kind of addicted. We’d rented a small apartment near the Lo Stagnone lagoon and as soon as I walked down the dusty path and saw the colourful kites, hundreds of them racing around, I was gripped. It was mesmerising. How on earth did people manage to fly — literally — along, or above, the water so very quickly using nothing but the wind to power them?
Becky learning to kitesurf
The answer, in my case, was to learn slowly. Very slowly. My teacher, the ever-patient Iskren from the Flow Kite School, said the quickest he had ever taught somebody was 45 minutes. The slowest was a 69-year-old man in Fuerteventura who swore to his son that he would, like him, learn the sport. It took more than 30 hours. How long would it take me?
On the first two days — I did a two-hour lesson each day — there was no board in sight. Standing on the beach, I learnt first about the (hugely reassuring) safety equipment — how to quick-release the kite from your harness if there is a problem; how to put the kite into neutral when you need to stop by positioning it at “12 o’clock” above your head. I was also thrilled that I would have to wear a helmet (yes!) and be covered head-to-toe in protective clothes (yes! I hate the sun!).
For the next stage we moved into the lagoon to learn “body dragging” — using the kite to move through the water, but without trying to stand on the board at the same time. I could just about do this, though I was easily distracted by the skills of the people around me — and, I admit, checking that I wasn’t the oldest person in the lagoon; I was delighted not to be. But the only thing I was meant to be looking at was the kite above my head. “Look at the kite, Becky! Look at the kite!”
Intriguingly you need no power in your arms to kitesurf. I had worried I would lack the strength in my arms to control the kite. In fact, you hold the bar very, very gently. “Relax your hands. Relax, Becky, relax,” was Iskren’s repeated refrain. The lighter you hold the bar, the better your control of the kite.
To change direction you move the bar a little bit to the left — “11 o’clock” — or a little bit to the right — “1 o’clock”. Pulling the bar towards you speeds you up, pushing it away slows you down — “depowering” — which is the opposite of what you think it should be. As a result I did a lot of panicking and pulling the bar towards myself, and did quite a few comedy faceplants into the lagoon, which my family were disappointed to miss.
Between lessons I found a bit of shade at the kite school and used binoculars to try to spot my children and husband racing around the lagoon. There was also time for reading and improving my Duolingo streak, though it did feel a bit odd learning Norwegian while in Italy.
For the final three nights of our trip we left the dusty £85-a-night apartment for a beautiful hilltop hotel nearby, Baglio Donna Franca, a restored 19th-century fortified farmhouse surrounded by its vineyard in Marsala countryside. It was heaven — a pool with views down to the lagoon, a lot of the estate’s delicious wine, and a feeling that eating two courses of busiate (the local long, twisty pasta) followed by tiramisu was essential for the next day’s lesson.
Marsala is in western Sicily
GETTY IMAGES
On day three, our penultimate day of kitesurfing, I was ready to learn how to add the board into the equation. Right at the end of my final lesson on our last day I was crouching on my back in the water, with my feet in the board’s two straps. The kite was at 12, I tipped it gently to 11 o’clock and … off I went. I kitesurfed for 15 metres before falling. Second attempt: 25 metres. Third attempt: 35 metres. It had taken eight and a half hours of lessons.
And it felt completely amazing. I was thrilled. Iskren said it was “super perfect”, bless him, which obviously it was not, but it did feel like one giant leap for a middle-aged mother who usually prefers a summer holiday of reading, swimming, coastal walks and Scrabble.
Mainly I was thrilled that I was not such a stick-in-the-mud that I wouldn’t at least try something that I didn’t think I’d enjoy. Thrilled that I got to sit on the beach, rather than in my office, and watch my family kitesurf around the lagoon as the sun set.
Also thrilled that if ever I am struck down, as my mother was more than 30 years ago, by Parkinson’s, a wretched, unpredictable and brutal degenerative disease, I can cheer myself with memories of the Lo Stagnone lagoon.
We’re already talking about next year’s trip. And I will be kitesurfing every day.
Becky Barrow travelled independently. Flow Kite School has nine hours of lessons for two from £300pp (kiteschoolsicily.com). Baglio Donna Franca has B&B doubles from £85 (donnafranca.it). Fly to Trapani
Have you tried kitesurfing? Let us know in the comments below
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