Before I came here I was daydreaming about what I would be doing when I got here. I envisioned a second hand wet-suit and hoody slung over a board, under my arm, as I walked across lime green fields.
I’d walk along side ancient stone walls to protect myself from the stiff winds and eventually they’d guide me to an overhanging cliff with a thick wedging swell peeling beneath it.
I’d kit up. Climb down a goats trail, make my way past frozen ponds of salt water and, finally, jump into the Atlantic. Instant ice-cream headache. Loosing my breath for a minute as I paddled through a kelpy whitewash soup.
Eventually I’d get to the peak.
For hours I’d be out there in the rain and hail slotting into short punchy waves on my own without the fearing the black water around me. No sharks, only heavy liquid…
This wave is a pretty special one. An opal shaped cave at the base of an amazing limestone cliff.
I didn’t get out there this day.
I was lucky enough to get the day off to get out of the city and caught it breaking with a couple of hell men charging it. Ah well… That dream lives on.