Once I've been to Morocco with one completely unknown person. We first met in Rome. After our trip, she left me a tent and I still have it and use it.

We have travelled some cities: Casa Blanka and Marrakesh. Then we settled in some fishers village where an owner of the surf house allowed us to stay for free for several weeks in exchange for a help with surf house website and social media.

I think, I lost almost all photos from that trip. Have one from Casa Blanka.

While we were living in the surf house, we had an amazing schedule. In the morning we learnt surfing, then when it became too hot - we went back and did laptop-related work for 4-5 hours, then we walked, went to local market for food or just wandered around.

There was some distance to the ocean, like 4 kilometers. Our host and surf trainer which had worked in the surf house had a car and we usually traveled with a car, because walking didn't make any sense there.

People were very poor there. The most common dish was potatos and bananas. As the protein – some white-meat fish with a lot of bones. No seafood and no beef. There were homeless men leaving in abandoned construction site, which was supposed to become a hotel. Job situation in the region was a secret for me.

A secret in that sense than I couldn't guess where all those people are getting money from. The area seemed to be completely jobless.

But we had great time thankfully to our amazing host. I was very serious kid who was thinking I am internet magician and can print money from the web.

There was a good chance to print some money from the web. It required some input in 6-9 month, but we've been in that place only for 1 month or so. So I'd say that we were completely useless kids without money.

Luckily, it was low season so surf house stayed empty anyway. Our host probably has lost the investment on us.

The article title has some "poetic" citation on drowning. Prequel is done and I can go to the main part explaining why.

One morning there were big waves in the ocean and I love big waves because small waves are not fun. When everyone recommended me not to go, I still went with a board willing to take my skills to the next level.

Training surfboard is big and soft, it's almost impossible to go deep in the water using it. It floats. So when waves came, I was washed away from the board, but it was fine.

And then several big waves came, and I was washed away and the leash which connects a leg to the board came loose. I lost the connection to the board. I am good swimmer so I was sure that it's not a big deal.

And then few more big waves came, one after another, very fast, and I couldn't breathe. I felt pain in my lungs and I drank a lot of salty ocean water. And for some reason I couldn't take a breath.

The interesting part of all of that, than in that very moment I thought that if something happens to me, I won't be upset. I love waves. I love ocean. I agree to let it kill me. I will fight back, of course, but if I lose – I will die a happy loser. I still have the same beliefs. Death from something I love doesn't inflict fear.

When I think if something is worth doing, I try to understand if I am relatively okay with the idea that this thing might kill me. With the people it works conceptually the same.

It helped me to develop the internal compass. It suggests me direction which I should take every day. I just do what it says.