12. The German
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The post surf hacky sack was always a treat to be around.
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This is a Kiwi outside his natural habitat ie. in New Zealand.
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You may question Eugene Terreblanche's politics, but you can't question his incredible wax jobs.
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No wonder they think the Superbank is so uncrowded.
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Who would have thought that after all those years fraternising with crocodiles, Mick Dundee would ultimately succumb to a night-club bouncer’s right-hook.
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Imagine getting dropped in by all these Brazil nuts at once. Terrible.
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Eddie here grew up in Pennsylvania, where true Hawaiians come from.
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Francois was enjoying his time in G-Land, and was glad he'd brought his full quiver with him
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The Englishman couldn't decide to hit the world class right, or the world class left.
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Not wanting to be Spanish is practically a national past time in Spain... and Portugal!
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By 5pm, this Canarian booger was already due his daily body wax.
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Maybe the Germans' state of the art wetsuits have been holding them back.
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This guy's attempts to blend in with the locals didn't go so well...
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Post surf, the Scandi pack reyhrdrated with some much needed juice.
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The two Israeli lads' trip to Indo was a success.
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Where good Italians go when they die: Pasta Point
12. The German
Alas that legendary German customary efficiency goes out the window as soon as the children of the Fatherland enter the ocean. Most of them seem to be on a global world trip of the world’s fattest waves, after taking a year off their studies in neuroscience or designing jet propelled engines. Their lack of surfing co-ordination however doesn’t affect their enthusiasm for surfing and surf culture. They may not be able to duckdive their brand new €1200 7’4 mini-mal, but they know the dimensions of Kelly Slater’s winning board at Bells. Additionally there’s been many a time a blonde, athletic, sexually adventurous and all together humourless German lass has saved a surfed trip.
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