The dark side of kitesurfing trips
So you want to kitesurf the world?
Packing your board bag and chasing the wind around the globe sounds like a dream. Turquoise water, sunset sessions, and a GoPro full of bangers. But here’s the plot twist no one posts about: Sometimes, kitesurfing travel is less freedom and more meltdown in a tuk-tuk because you forgot your pump.
We’re not here to scare you out of your kite-fueled wanderlust. We’re here to tell you that behind every envy-inducing Reel is a kiter quietly wondering how they ended up eating instant noodles on a mosquito-ridden mattress next to their wet harness.
Culture shock is real, and not just the dramatic kind
When you land in a new country with your board bag and a heart full of stoke, you're also landing in a world of different habits, rhythms, and expectations. Sometimes that’s part of the charm. Other times, it’s the reason you find yourself frantically googling “how to say pump adapter in Spanish” while your kite buddies are already on the water. It’s easy to get overwhelmed when things don’t go to plan. Jet lag, language barriers, and different social norms can leave you feeling unanchored, especially if you’re solo traveling.
You might:
End up in a dry town on a Saturday night after a no-wind week.
Offend someone with your beach behavior without realizing it.
Discover your beachfront hostel is more swampfront, with extra mosquitos.
The mental load of chasing wind
We like to romanticise kite travel, but let’s talk about the invisible stress it brings. You’re not just navigating flights and border controls, you’re playing Windy.com like it’s Tinder, desperately swiping for a good forecast. And when the forecast flops? You feel guilty for not being stoked 24/7, even though you flew halfway across the world and your bank account is side-eyeing you.
On top of that, expectations can be high. Maybe your trip was a big investment: financially, emotionally, or time-wise. So when the wind ghosts you or the vibe isn’t right, it’s easy to spiral. You question everything, including your decision to spend three months chasing a breeze while your friends back home are buying houses or organizing brunch.
Gear stress is real stress
If you’ve never stared at a conveyor belt praying for your kite bag to show up, have you even kite-traveled? Airlines treat kite bags like unlabelled mysteries. Your bag could arrive on time, or it could decide to spend a week in transit purgatory. And if your gear does arrive, chances are something’s broken, missing, or covered in a mysterious sticky substance.
This is where improvisation becomes your hidden superpower:
Repairs happen with dental floss, duct tape, or sheer willpower.
You learn the art of pack-and-pray every time you zip up your bag.
You carry your pump like it’s a family heirloom, because it is.
Also, pro tip: Always carry your fins and screws in your hand luggage. And if you forget? Welcome to the community of creative problem-solvers known as “people who’ve tried to kite without footstraps.”
Locals, line tangles, and the guilt of impact
Another thing Instagram doesn’t show? The tension that sometimes exists between kite tourists and local communities. Not all places are built to handle the influx of travelers, especially when those travelers use a lot of space (and wind). We’ve seen too many beautiful beaches slowly turn into chaotic kite zones, where locals feel pushed out and environmental impact gets ignored.
It’s important to kite responsibly. Respect the locals, follow the spot rules, and support local businesses, not just the shiny foreign-run kite schools.
You’ll still love it—just differently
Here’s the thing: Kitesurfing travel is still magic. Even with all the mess, the missed sessions, and the mildly traumatic hostel showers, something about it keeps us coming back. Maybe it’s the people you meet. Maybe it’s the rare perfect session that makes it all click. Or maybe it’s just the kind of self-growth you can only earn by surviving a thunderstorm in a tent while guarding your twin tip like it’s your firstborn.
You won’t love every moment. But you’ll remember every single one. And somewhere in the middle of all the stress, you might realize this wasn’t just a trip—it was a transformation.
Berito wisdom bomb to end on
Kite travel will test your gear, your patience, and your ability to shower with flip-flops—but hey, at least you’ll come back with great stories and slightly better calf muscles.
xox Berito