How a workaholic Laurane chose surf life over a 9–5

👋 Hey, I’m Laurane

My first name is Laurane but as it’s difficult to pronounce, people call me Love—written like “love,” like the love. I’m 33.

I’ve been living in Siargao, Philippines, for a year now. It’s been back and forth for two years. I’ve been traveling for about two and a half years since I lost my job in Paris.

I was a workaholic, working a lot there, and then I embraced a traveling life—backpacking, solo traveling in Southeast Asia for two and a half years. I settled in Siargao after discovering surfing, which answers the next question.

🌊 First time surfing (or not really)

My first time surfing—if that even counts—was when I was around 24 or 25. I took a one-hour surf lesson on the west coast of France in the whitewash with my ex-boyfriend, and I didn’t like it. It was pretty hard, and we surfed in very shallow water. I remember almost breaking my left ankle because there were literally only about 30 centimeters of water.

I didn’t try again until I was solo traveling and backpacking.

Siargao, Philippines, was the last destination of a five-month-long solo trip. I was on the island for two weeks, focusing on socializing, joining yoga classes, and going to some parties. One day, we randomly decided to take a surf lesson with my new friends.

I remember this first wave very clearly—in Siargao, on the south beaches, at Secret Beach. You’re surfing in a tropical paradise: you see this amazing beach with palm trees everywhere, you hear the birds, and you get pushed into a wave that’s so fun—a long ride toward the beach. I remember the joy, laughing out loud because it felt so good. I had only one thing in mind: to go back to the lineup and take another wave.

💛 Falling in love with surfing

It was a beautiful sunny day, and we were all lifting each other up, screaming as soon as someone stood on the board. None of us expected to actually surf, to actually stand and take a full wave, but these long, mellow, gentle waves made it so easy. Of course, the local surf coaches played a huge role—they made it fun, easy, and pushed us into the right waves.

I immediately fell in love with surfing on this second attempt in my life. It was so fun that I started taking lessons every day for a few weeks. Eventually, I could change spots and surf slightly bigger waves. A few times per week, I would ride an amazing, perfect wave and feel that joy again—this incredible feeling that’s so hard to describe.

It was the first time in a long time that I felt proud of myself for myself—something only I was responsible for. I don’t know if that makes sense, but it was a mix of joy, self-love, relaxation, and challenge. I found it exciting to go back into the water and try to catch the next wave, so I surfed every day for weeks.

✈️ Choosing surf as a lifestyle

Eventually, I had to go back to France, where I basically finished quitting my old life. After three months in France—packing my things and selling my apartment—I started traveling again with only one word in mind: surf. I visited Sri Lanka, Indonesia, and then the Philippines again. I wouldn’t travel to places without the ocean and waves.

I surfed several times a week and tried to find surf lessons and coaches. I started working and traveling to finance this lifestyle and began volunteering in surf camps. I worked for a while at Kima Surf Camp in Weligama, Sri Lanka. During the off-season, I bought my first surfboard—a 7’6 Malibu Classic—which was much too narrow for me.

🪵 Early struggles

I struggled a lot, but I never gave up. For three months, I was in the water almost every day, trying to catch messy beach-break waves. There was a lot of paddling, and I clearly remember only catching one or two waves per session, which was obviously a sign that the conditions and the board weren’t right for my level.

As a volunteer, I could join some surf lessons, but because the coaches were incentivized by customer feedback—and volunteers couldn’t give feedback—they didn’t really focus on us. I was mostly left on my own. Even video recordings were aimed at customers, so it was rare for me to have footage of myself surfing, which I think really helps with progression and understanding mistakes.

🌴 Where I am now

I mostly surfed alongside beginner and beginner-plus surfers, with coaches around but not focused on me. Today, I’m settled in Siargao, and I’ve been surfing for almost two years. Even though I still take lessons with more experienced surf teachers here, I mostly surf alone or try to tag along with friends. I feel more comfortable with people around, as I don’t feel at ease surfing completely on my own at my level.

I do catch my own waves now, start practicing maneuvers, and sometimes join boats with friends in the south of Siargao, around the General Luna area.

💪 Physical challenges

It’s hard to say what the most challenging part of surfing is. I’m answering as someone living in a surf paradise, so finding waves isn’t the issue. For me, the hardest part was building enough paddling strength. It took time, but once you have it, it stays—so the beginning is the hardest.

Even now, popping up is still challenging because of balance, technique, and the fact that I switch spots often. I don’t want to get too comfortable with just one type of wave, and lately I’ve been training in faster, steeper waves. I’m also lucky not to live in a very crowded area, so lineup stress isn’t a big issue for me.

⚠️ Injuries and fear

As for sticky situations, I’ve hurt myself several times with my own board—falling onto it after popping up or wiping out and cutting myself on the fins. It usually happens on my lower legs. The worst injury was a double cut, quite deep, in two different areas of my lower leg muscle. I struggled a lot and needed a few weeks to heal the flesh—it’s not very nice to hear, I know.

I also remember one really hard session this summer on the west coast of France, near Biarritz. It was a big day for me—two-meter waves at a beach break, definitely above my level. I don’t even know how I reached the lineup. I was held under for a long time, the waves were massive, and I was surfing alone. I was really afraid of drowning that day. The currents were extremely strong, and it was very dangerous.

So yes, surfing in conditions far above my level, dealing with injuries, and managing panic when waves are too big have been challenges. Every time something like that happened, I went back into the water quite quickly—but in easier conditions. I try to respect a rhythm: three or four chill sessions, then one challenging session, and repeat—so I don’t get traumatized and forget to have fun.

🪄 Boards and preferences

I own my second surfboard now, as I had to sell the first one in Sri Lanka. I’m riding a DP board—it’s an Australian brand, Dylan something—and it’s a 6’6”. I think the model is the DP Comet. It has the shape of a shortboard but a lot of volume, especially in the front. I love it because it’s very versatile: I can surf almost any kind of wave, even choppy ones, and it also works for bigger waves. It has around 42 liters, so it’s a great fun board for my level, and I still have so much to learn on it.

I would say I prefer shortboards, but I also love longboards—and I hate that we’re supposed to choose. My dream is to have two or three boards: one short and one long, so I can adapt to conditions. I love the dancing and flow of longboarding, and I love the more hectic, fun, challenging feeling of shortboarding. If I had all kinds of waves available all the time, I’d love to choose based on my mood—or even my cycle.

My favorite surf spots include Barrio in the north of Siargao, Daku Island, and Gerupuk in Lombok. If I had to describe my favorite conditions, I’d say shoulder-high to head-high waves with fast takeoffs and enough power to practice maneuvers safely.

🌎 Dreams and goals

Where do I dream of surfing? I’ve heard Nicaragua has amazing waves, but honestly, I don’t dream of a place. I dream of continuing this lifestyle—being able to surf every day. I’m kind of already living that dream in Siargao.

As for surf-related goals, my dream is to perform a snap. Since my very first lessons, I remember instructors splashing water over us while snapping, and I’d love to do that—to throw water over my friends. In longboarding, cross-stepping would also be amazing. My other big goal is simply to keep this surfing lifestyle and surf every day if I want to.

🧘‍♀️ How surfing changed my life

Surfing completely changed my life—not to sound cheesy. When I lost my job in France two and a half years ago, a lot happened at once. I lost my job, my nine-year relationship ended, and everything felt heavy. I needed to heal, reconnect with myself, and find meaning again. I’m naturally introspective, always questioning life and existence, and like many backpackers, I was a bit lost.

Surfing gave me grounding. When I go into the water, I don’t take my phone—it sounds stupid, but it helps me reconnect with myself and nature and not think about anything else for two hours. I feel free, joyful, and grounded. Surfing also helped me live more healthily: sleeping better, feeling happier in my body. For me, surfing means inner peace and health. I don’t think I could ever go back to my previous life, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop surfing.

🏗️ Building Ihu Surf Quest

The hardest part of surfing is that it requires being in very good shape. You need endurance and strength to surf well, catch waves, and maneuver. It’s long and hard to become good—but that’s also what I love about it. It’s a never-ending learning process, and I never get bored. The difficulty of learning to surf is also the most beautiful part of it.

It’s also expensive to live a surfing life, but I’m willing to fight for it. Injuries are definitely another hard part.

Six months ago, I founded Ihu Surf Quest, my own business. I organize surf experiences on a remote island in the Philippines, about three hours from Siargao. It’s not a surf retreat or a surf camp—it’s something different. I bring respectful surfers to a very remote island with no tourist facilities. We disappear there for six days and surf unlimited.

🌱 Community and responsibility

The experience is about disconnecting from modern society’s pressure, hustle, and noise—going somewhere with no signal and reconnecting with village life. We live in a fishing village with no other tourists, learn how locals fish to survive, eat local food, surf uncrowded and untouched spots, and connect deeply with other humans. It’s about coming back to being just human.

This project is also a social project. I’m very thankful that the local community lets me bring people there every month, and I try to do it respectfully and give back. Ten percent of the revenue goes directly toward school supplies—furniture and materials for kids. When possible, we also give boards.

I’ve started conversations with NGOs in the Philippines to see what we can do long-term. Donations may evolve into scholarships or other long-term support for the community, which struggles especially during the rainy season when fishing is difficult. If I can bring people regularly and eventually guarantee steady income—through accommodation, boat captains, and donations—that would be amazing.

I don’t communicate the exact location of the island on purpose. I don’t want to be responsible for mass tourism there. I know it may happen one day, but I don’t want to be the one to pin the location. For now, I just hope I can help more people enjoy surfing while respecting local communities.

Catch me @lau.waves.