"The night before the trip we loosely spoke about our goals; we’d get an early start, get some surfing in around sunset, sleep on the beach, then wake up and carry on. But the next morning arrived at 1PM. I pulled my swollen eyelids as far apart as I could manage to look at my phone. I hadn’t missed any calls. I stood up and braced my hand over my eyes as I made my way to an unfamiliar washroom to unload whatever Greek-fry and shawarma medley was knocking at the back of my throat. Finally, the crew clumsily came together around three in the afternoon. With all of our belongings in the vehicle there wasn’t much room for movement, and the drive to the border was slow. The car was quiet save the exchange of pills and hangover remedies. It was a panorama of mouths agape, hoodies up, and heads resting on windows, and the air smelled of coffee sweat. We became aware that given the time, we weren’t going to get any surfing in on the first day." -Sasha Barkans.
An excerpt from Water In The Fuel.
Featured on Desillusion with support from Sitka.