When I was at uni, my friends (cruelly) dared me to strike up a conversation with a fellow bar patron. They identified him from across the crowded room as the man with the highest blood-alcohol content and, presently, the least dignity.
“Hey, you look familiar,” I said. “Do we have a class together?”
Through the haze of his intoxication, he had some difficulty recognizing that he didn’t recognize me. “Yeahhh,” he slurred. “Yeah. Friday mornings?” Continue reading
Well, that was a regrettable decision.
I began the session at Snapper. That’s not the regrettable part. That part turned out to be satisfactory. At least. That part was all fun drops and successful bottom turns and speeding along deep green walls until my legs were tired. In the rain. You know I love it.
I got out of the water at Greenmount feeling pretty content. I was going to find some grub, some caffeine, some motivation. I turned around and scanned the shoreline. Hmm… I wonder what Kirra’s doing down there. I started walking in that direction. Just out of curiosity, really. It looked alright. There appeared to be some good sections, and there were like four guys out. I spotted a rip and started paddling, thinking I’d get a handful of fun shoulders (no barrels, thanks) and then go eat lunch. So, yeah, I was paddling, paddling…
Thanks to Cyclone Fina, the Gold Coast picked up some major swell over the holly days. Check out my current home break on Dec. 26th:
Water, Water Everywhere And Not A Drop To Drink 