Surfing in Malaysia might sound like a mix-up, and I admit, I thought so too — but Cherating has quietly nurtured its own surf scene for years. From October to March, gentle swells roll in — smooth, knee-to-waist-high waves that are forgiving and beginner-friendly, yet still enjoyable for more experienced surfers seeking something mellow.
What makes surfing here special is how it welcomes everyone. Beginners can learn comfortably on the softer waves, while more seasoned surfers often come for the same reason — the relaxed atmosphere, uncrowded breaks, and the simple joy of riding waves without pressure. It’s a place where learning feels natural, and where even experienced surfers are happy to slow down and enjoy the rhythm of the ocean.
By the time I decided to try surfing, Cherating’s gentle rhythm had already settled into my days. The calm pace of the beach made stepping into the water feel less intimidating and more like a natural next step.
I signed up for lessons with Irfan from Cherating Surf Club — a local surfer who is calm, skilled, and quietly encouraging. The place itself is just a small, unassuming hut — nothing fancy, yet quietly full of warmth. The people here are genuinely welcoming, and that kindness extends to the animals too. During briefings, dogs would often lie down beside me, half-asleep in the sand, as if they were part of the class too. There are other surf camps scattered along the main stretch of the beach as well, making it easy to find one that suits your comfort level.
Surfing here turned out to be strangely addictive. Each wave, each fall, and each small win drew me back to the board. There’s a rhythm to it — once you're in the water, time moves differently. I fell more times than I could count, but Irfan would always reassure me, “It’s okay,” even when it clearly didn’t feel like it. The moment I finally managed to stand, I glanced back at him to share my little triumph — only to fall again seconds later. That’s surfing. It humbles you, teaches patience, and gently reminds you to laugh at yourself.
Watching the surfers here, I realised it’s less about perfection and more about presence — riding each wave fully, then letting it go.
And when I wasn’t out in the water, Cherating offered quieter moments that felt just as grounding, only with sand-stained hands instead of surfboards.
By the end of my stay, surfing felt less like something I was trying to master and more like something quietly teaching me in return. Not every wave worked out, and most of them ended with a fall — but that was part of the rhythm. Somewhere between the wipeouts and the small wins, I learned to be a little more patient, a little more present. I still wouldn’t call myself a surfer, but the waves in Cherating showed me that sometimes it’s enough just to paddle out, take it as it comes, and enjoy the moment while it lasts.