On September 7th, Kyuka officially turned one.
That’s right. One year of running this wild, beautiful, stressful, chaotic, stressful, grounding, stressful, exhausting, humbling, stressful, ridiculously rewarding surf camp in Fuerteventura (did I mention stressful?).
And let me tell you: if you think this has been a straight line of “big idea → dream life → success,” you’re living in Instagram-land.
This first year of our Fuerteventura surf retreat has been a mix of:
- Lying awake at night, wondering how to cover rent.
- Jumping into the ocean for surf sessions that left me bruised and battered.
- Meeting weird ass strangers who turned into the best of friends.
- And yes, more stress than I ever thought one human being could hold.
So here’s the story of year one: the ups, the wipeouts, the funniest guests, the lessons that nearly broke me, and the gratitude that keeps me going.
The Illusion vs. The Reality of a Surf Camp in Fuerteventura
,If you scroll through Instagram, my life looks like a movie: surfing every day, happy people around the pool, BBQ nights under the stars, island vibes all around.
And yes, all of that happens at our surf camp in Fuerteventura.
But here’s what you don’t see:
- Me behind a laptop for 7+ hours a day
- Sales calls, guest questions, invoices, accounting errors
- Organizing weekly schedules and last-minute fixes
Entrepreneurship here isn’t “work a little, surf a lot.”
It’s “work a lot, surf when you can.”
If you work 47 weeks in an office, 8.4 hours a day, you pay with structure and stability.
If you run your own surf camp, the price is different: constant responsibility, endless multitasking, and the stress of never knowing if this month’s bookings will cover rent.
The highlight reel is real — but so is the grind behind it.
Surfing in Fuerteventura: The 2–3 Hour Commitment
Surfing looks effortless online. Someone paddles out, catches a wave, carves down the line like they were born on a board.
But here’s the truth of surfing in Fuerteventura:
- Pack the gear — 15 minutes
- Drive to the spot — 20 minutes
- Paddle out — 10 minutes
- Surf — maybe 90 minutes (if the waves are actually good)
- Drive back — 20 minutes
- Wash wetsuits — 5 minutes
- Put everything away — 10 minutes
That’s 2–3 hours gone. Every single session.
Sometimes the waves are magic — flying, laughing, alive.
Other times, the ocean beats you down, sends you through the washing machine, and spits you out salty, humbled, and wondering why you didn’t just stay home with a book.
That’s entrepreneurship in a nutshell. You can’t shortcut the process. You can’t skip the commitment. And not every session gives you what you hoped for.
The Washing Machine Moment
One day I’ll never forget: I went out underprepared on a big day. Not enough skill, not enough fitness, but too much excitement.
A big set rolled in. I wiped out. Then again. Then again.
At one point, my leash tangled around my legs. I panicked, fought at the wrong moment, wasted all my energy, and barely made it back to the beach.
Collapsed in the sand, I felt broken but strangely at peace. I wasn’t thinking about invoices or bookings for our surf camp. I was just there. Present. Alive.
The lesson? In chaos, the only way through is to go back to basics:
- Don’t panic
- Protect yourself
- Breathe
- Hold on until it passes
Funniest & Most Surprising Guests at the Surf Camp
One of the most beautiful parts of running Kyuka has been the mix of humans showing up at our surf retreat in Fuerteventura.
Every week, people arrived open, ready to connect, laugh, and play like kids again. And honestly? Some of the over-40s were the funniest, most open, most outgoing of them all. Absolute legends.
A funny pattern: around 20–30% of guests were in career transitions. They’d just resigned, were between jobs, or had started freelancing. Kyuka became their “reset space” before the next chapter.
And the professions blew my mind: bakers, marine biologists (one was hilariously obsessed with plankton), designers, athletes. Each week felt like a new family reunion — with people you’d actually want at the table.
Lessons Learned From Running a Surf Camp in Fuerteventura
- Trust the Process
Entrepreneurship is slow. You pour energy into outreach, campaigns, partnerships — nothing happens. Then six months later, someone you emailed once suddenly books a retreat. - Money Appears (Sometimes)
We were sometimes a few thousand short of rent. Then out of nowhere, someone would call and book the entire villa. Not magic — just persistence and showing up. - Team Health = Everything
If one person gets sick, the others double the workload. By the time the sick one recovers, the others are burned out. Running a surf camp is a team sport, and I couldn’t do it without my brother, our partners, and the crew.
Gratitude
I can’t write about year one without thanking the people who’ve supported us:
- Our parents, who visited, paid for their stays, and supported us when we needed it most.
- My brother, in the trenches with me day in and day out.
- Partners like Joyas, bringing expertise and stability.
- Friends like Thomas from ArtWorth Brothers, who helped with marketing and came back for our one-year celebration.
- And of course all the friends, old and new alike that came to visit us here in Fuerteventura.
Closing Thoughts on Year One of Kyuka Surf Camp Fuerteventura
One year in, I feel exhausted, proud, humbled, grateful.
Running Kyuka hasn’t been easy. It’s been wipeouts, sleepless nights, spreadsheets, and stress. But also laughter, friendship, community, and moments of pure presence in the ocean.
The journey is never just highlights. It’s the wipeouts, the waiting, the salt water in your eyes, the little wins nobody sees.
Here’s to year two of our surf camp in Fuerteventura: more waves, more wipeouts, more growth, and hopefully… a little less stress. (But let’s be honest — probably not).
