What happened?
In 1992 or let it be 1991 or 1993 I was going to Greece for a holiday with a friend and 50 other kids. It was an organized holiday for teens and everyone was around the same age.
The surf school teached us how to windsurf every second day or so. It was the fifth and last day of school and I was able to surf with the wind and a bit against it but not directly.
When I realized that I drifted out very far and was not able to surf towards the beach because the wind came from the land I was getting worried. To use my arms for paddling was not working, too. The current was too strong.
The big billboard that was at the fence of the airport next to the beach was almost not visible anymore. My skin was dry by the sun and the water and then I fell again into the water while trying to surf against the wind.
Bang, black. 1 second later, am waking up. I realized that I got kind of knocked out by the mast of the sail. Where is the surface of the water, where is up?
I am breathing fresh air again and make it back on the board but I keep drifting towards the open ocean.
On the horizon I see land but it feels like looking at a map of Europe. Will I get washed at the beach there or will I go further to the open sea? How long will it take?
I did what I could and laid on the board trying to stay calm. I wished that I would drift towards the land far away. Maybe tomorrow with some luck.
After a while a small long boat with a tiny motor approached me. In it an old man, around 80, with a beard as big as possible.
White beard, looked like god. His skin was brown and tanned by years of sun. He was from Greece and soon talked to me in German and about how he was there a lot for the toy fares in Nuremberg.
We slowly chugged towards the beach. It took a few minutes and we arrived. I did not know anymore on which height of the beach the school was and had to walk quite a bit until I reached it.
There I saw my new friends from my surf class and one of them asked me why my skin looked so strange and touched me at the arm. My skin was falling towards the sand like snow and I was as surprised as everyone around me.
After I told the story we left back to the hotel and since then I am wondering what that was. The man who looked like god and spoke my language who saved me from big harm or death.
It feels like magic or something between coincidence and fate.
?
?
I never met the man again. Or did I? In the form of strangers who appear when one is in danger?
Who knows what life is really about? I am very thankful about it, that is for sure.
This, dear reader, was a real story and I hope that you enjoyed it.