Before you even go in the water, surfing wraps itself around your spirit. Mexico teases with what it can do. People think about lines before morning, the smell of salt in the air, and tacos after sunset. But let’s put aside the postcard moments for a minute. A real trip entails sand in every bag and anecdotes that will live longer than your tan. Before you become too antsy, go to www.latamsurfing.com/mexico to look for some waves.

Have you ever heard the Pacific Ocean thunder against the coasts of Oaxaca? That’s Puerto Escondido’s voice waking you up at dawn. Zicatela grabs your edges, rattles them, and tests them. You might paddle out with an attitude. You paddle in with respect. Pros come here hoping for the “Mexican Pipeline,” but amateurs get their share further down the beach.

Go north, and Baja is a wild card. The rocks of the desert fall into jade water. One day it’s glass, the following day the wind yells trouble; you hold on to your board tightly and hope for the best. If someone offers you fish tacos, don’t think twice. Trust me, hunger doesn’t wait for any surfer in Baja. The tacos are also a way to say hello.

Sayulita’s tourist traffic annoys you on the Pacific side. But trust me, the perfect swell makes waves that are fun for beginners. Bring some patience with your wax because the lines can grow long. Life beyond the beach is full of sticky paletas, reggae music coming from a bar, and serious surf instructors.

If you want to be alone, point the compass off the grid. Guerrero’s Troncones is quieter than the hotspots. Some mornings you’ll only have pelicans to keep you company while you surf. The air smells good and there is a small breeze now and again. When the tide is right, lefts peel off like a ribbon from a package. These are the sessions that surfers save like fortunate pennies.

Equipment may tell its own story. Airlines damage boards, wax melts into a puddle, and leashes get tangled up in knots that will make you curse by moonlight. Do you think you brought enough sunscreen? Give it another shot. Every vacation comes with free raccoon eyes and blistered noses.

But it’s not just about the surfing. Nights flow out into dusty streets, where laughing and guitar chords combine. People who don’t know each other tell stories about barrels they won and wipeouts they survived while sitting around the fire. You can earn your beer even if you eat sand all day long.

If the water turns rough or the swell goes missing, locals can propose taking a different route across the jungle or mountains. Mexico leaves its mark on every adventure with its wild edges and warm hearts. The waves here never feel the same way twice.

Is it heaven? Of course, sand in bad places and sunburns that hurt. You pledge yourself every time that you’ll come back. The ocean here hides things and laughs while you paddle out and write a new story.