When I departed for Mexico back in January — the third phase of my three-year global travel adventure — I had no idea that my journey would lead me to French Polynesia. Of course, I knew the Olympics were taking place in Tahiti in July, but I assumed that I had let any chance of attending that event sail long ago when I left my job at the ISA.

But the world works in weird ways. In March, right around the time I transitioned from Mexico to Panama, I got an invite to cover Olympic surfing for The Inertia. It didn’t take much thinking to accept. It’d be hard to think of a better location to be offered an expenses-paid work trip.

I’ve been back from Tahiti for over a week now and had time to digest my experience. At first, I started writing this blog post like a “I did X then Y then Z” style travel tale, until I realized that my trip wasn’t nearly exciting enough. So I pivoted to instead reflect on my observations and learnings from being at the Olympics — from the perspective of experiencing one of the most-viewed events in surfing, at one of the most famous waves in surfing, at my biggest journalism gig to date.

Here’s what came to mind:

1) Teahupo’o truly is the ‘end of the road’

Teahupo’o is known as ‘the end of the road’ because it literally is where the road along the south shore of the island ends. To go further into the village you need to cross a newly Olympics-renovated footbridge or head upstream to a shallow river crossing that can’t be used when rainwater surges.

I knew this, but I didn’t quite realize just how at the end of the road it was. There is nothing in this town. No market, no stores, no ATM, no fruit stand. Nothing. The closest market is a mile back up the road and hardly has anything appetizing. The true Carrefour supermarket is another 30 minutes down the road. One house has a vending machine with soda. There is one (very scrumptious) restaurant that was always absurdly full due to all the Olympic visitors. Additionally, four temporary food stands were built in the main parking lot to meet the demand for food during the event.

Staying provisioned was a challenge without a car. My supply of Bobo Bars imported from Whole Foods waned quickly. Nothing was open in the mornings, so I had to eat my breakfast at the on-site buffet that cost $22. Lunches were also eaten on-site where the price jumped to $30. My dinner options were limited to one of four food stands. After eating chow mein bathed in sugary sauces (the only vegan menu item at all of the food stands) for the first five days or so, I realized that I would have to eat fish to get any real sustenance in this village. (And damn, the poisson cru is good in Tahiti.)

I did enough research beforehand to prepare for the finite calories available in this town, but the lesson learned is: If you expect to have any quality of life in Teahupo’o, you need access to a vehicle.

2) Surfers have feelings too

This was my first real gig working as a journalist where what I wrote and the stories I pursued were (almost) completely up to me. It was fun getting in the mix and finding storylines.

At the Olympics the athletes go through a media ‘mixed’ zone after competing. In surfing’s case, the surfers were whisked in from the waves on a jet ski, dropped off on a dock, and then subject to the media gauntlet area. First they had to talk to the rights-holding broadcasters, then they would go through the written press mixed area where I was located. If it were a desirable athlete, it could take as long as 20-30 minutes to get all the way through.

I spoke with nearly every Olympian in that zone. The experience underlined the fine art in journalism of asking hard questions while still maintaining a cordial working relationship with athletes. For example, you need to ask questions that they might find uncomfortable, but you might also need to text said athlete a few months from now to ask for a quote on a story. If you piss them off, good luck ever getting access to them again.

I did somewhat find myself in one of these situations when I asked the two-time world champ Filipe Toledo, who is known for his poor performances at Teahupo’o, if he truly thought he did all he could to prepare for the wave. He looked at me with an expression that was definitely not a smile and bluntly said, “Two visits was enough.” (He got eliminated in round 3, so maybe it wasn’t.)

However, the most comical example was between Jordy Smith and Pablo Z of the Spanish-language surf site Duke. Pablo persisted with questions to Jordy about something he had previously said regarding not liking how certain Brazilians surf. Apparently, Pablo was so insistent with his line of questioning that Jordy took time out of his day to return to the mixed zone and go searching for Pablo, wanting to give him a piece of his mind. “We have feelings too,” are purportedly the words that Jordy blurted as he went on his journalist witch hunt. I have a feeling that Jordy will not respond to Pablo if he ever contacts him for an interview. Surfers are not accustomed to the media scrutiny typical of bigger sports.

3) Judging drama

Most of those who were watching at home probably have no idea, but there was some juicy drama that took place with the technical team during the event. An Australian judge took a photo with an Australian athlete and the team coach, which was then uploaded to social media. A shit storm ensued.

Going back to Tokyo 2020, the Brazilians had been out to get this particular judge for what they perceived was bias against Gabriel Medina. The judge served the angry online Brazilian surf mob this photo on a silver platter. It was literally their idea of the ‘smoking gun,’ the exact photo they had been having wet dreams about discovering.

Anyway, it just so happens that Pedro Scooby, a pro surfer from Brazil who is part (perhaps the ring leader) of the aforementioned online mob, was working alongside us as a news reporter in the media area. He jumped on this photo to rekindle the flame and send his millions of Instagram followers to berate the Australians.

Scooby was successful. The judge was expelled from the event — not because he had been a poor judge, but just for the perception of partiality that the photo implied. Brazilian surf fans rejoiced.

I think this situation will have a lasting impact on surfing and set a new precedent for how athletes and judges interact, whether during an event or on their local beaches. If you are interested, I’ve written extensively on this topic here and here.

4) I guess people read my work

I’ve learned that an inevitable part of being a writer is that people begin to recognize your name (and often form strong opinions on your work). I am by no means a “well-known” writer, maybe a C-list celebrity in the world of surf journalism. Yet I must add that an Italian website called me one of the most “authoritative” and “famous” voices in the world of surfing.

Anyway, on the first day when I sat down in the media office, I noticed that I was sitting next to Nick Carroll — the brother of former world champ Tom Carroll and widely regarded as one of the best (if not the best) surf journalists to ever do it. So as I went to introduce myself, Nick responded along the lines of, “Oh yeah you’re Evan Kwa…ern..ahrn…st….” I helped him finish the name.

I’ve published so many god-damned stories over the past two years in the surf world that I shouldn’t find it surprising my ultra-unique Viking name rang a bell, but it just hit me when I learned that Nick knew who I was.

5) The fine line between personal and work relationships

Back when I was working at the ISA, I formed a lot of relationships with people all around the world. Forged through my job, some turned into friendships, some remained more business-like/transactional, and others fell somewhere in the middle.

When I left that job, it was like sifting all my relationships through a filter. I stayed in touch with some and lost touch with others. Many of those colleagues became lifelong friends, while others faded because they were based on what I could offer via my job (that I no longer possessed).

Here’s a great example: Surfline used to give me free premium access every year. I was the media manager with the keys to the ISA’s advertising budget. They obviously enjoyed receiving a portion of that budget every year and were happy to give me some perks. When I left the ISA, they were nice enough to keep me on the free plan for a year or two — more than I was expecting to be honest.

However, over the years they slowly, but surely, stopped responding to my emails. My subscription ran out. I am now an average Joe surfer on my own for a Surfline premium account. No more surf industry perks because I have very little importance to them without that checkbook in my hands.

Now that I am a journalist and was covering an event that people care about, I could see those work relationships forming again. I was exposed to a lot of people, some who, for no fault of their own, were interested in what I could offer them via my stories. At the same time, I sensed others were genuinely interested in the non-work side of me.

There are no hard feelings towards Surfline or any of these people who I have not been able to stay in touch with beyond work. My hands are not clean either. Surfline had not been getting invites to my (non-existent) birthday bashes. C’est la vie. It’s a fact of life that I was reminded of when returning to a work event.

6) Finding surf at the Olympics is complicated

Before I took off to Tahiti, I wrote a story posing the question of whether I would be able to surf or not. Long story short, I did, but not the famous wave of Teahupo’o.

Teahupo’o was closed for the entire waiting period, just for the use of Olympic surfers. On the day after the Olympics, when I would have had the chance to surf it, the swell was pretty big and some surfers who are far better than me decided not to go out, so I figured I should follow suit. No need to risk a gnarly reef slam a few hours before my flight home.

I did get one lay-day session at a different outer reef pass, a glorious waist-high wave shared with several fellow journalists. It was a much-needed session to wash off all the hours we had spent working in the office that week.

But the spot I surfed most was the river mouth in town, walking distance from my house. When the swell is huge and coming from a southern direction, it actually filters through the reef pass at Teahupo’o and creates a little river mouth wave in the village. It was absurdly crowded with local kids and Olympic staff/surfers, but it was still a fun option to get a quick surf on the off days.

The art of the work trip

I’ve done lots of work trips over the years. For obvious reasons, they are completely different from non-work travel. If I were to return to the village of Teahupo’o now I bet it hardly resembles what I experienced while the Olympic circus was in town. But that’s totally fine. Work trips have their own charm too. It’s fun to be among all the people from all over the world who are crammed into the same little town for 10 days to work towards a relatively common objective.

That said, I’ll have to return someday to see the real Tahiti, not just the Olympics Tahiti. I am sure it is as charming as it appeared, but maybe even better without police checkpoints and absurd lines at the restaurant in town.