Yesterday I was practising my surfing at Godrevy, the beach was empty and I was the only person in the whole stretch of white rolling waves. I had just got out and was lying on the wet sand next to my board to catch my breath. Everything was perfect, the warm sun on my the back of my wetsuit, air laden with salt fresh spray. I got up walked back to the sea for my second batch of fast paddled clumsy pop-ups. The water was about a two feet deep and there were elongated circles of white sea foam on the surface, mirrored by dark moving strips of shadow on the sandy bottom. A flock of tiny sea birds flew in a tight cluster ahead of me above the bigger waves out of my depth.
I felt wave of what I can only describe a love for this place.
I had a huge grin on my face all afternoon (apart from the times I was under the water) until I was stuck in a traffic jam in Redruth. It must be said that I don’t think I’m in love with Redruth.
I once told a beach I loved it just so I could surf there. After I got what I wanted I stopped returning its phone (actually conch) calls.
You B*stard, I saw that beach the other week at the Sand Bar, Praa Sands, crying into her Sea Breeze.She kept saying,’Maybe he’s lost my conch number.’