Words and analogue pictures by Joe
“Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Farringdon anymore…”
The annual trip to Watergate Bay Hotel is highly anticipated and unique to each WC member. I found it to be very cathartic, a sort of ‘white-water-worry-wash-away’.
I used to surf during my former lifeguarding years in South Wales, but hadn’t since 2015 when I had my first migraine, conveniently at sea (I then got to shore to find I had a parking ticket). So, it was safe to say I’d wondered if I’d ever surf again.
After a five-hour train we stopped at Ed’s parents’ for shortbread and a cuppa before we set off in a two-car convey with some hot Cornish pasties. The drive reminded me of bygone school trips – sat in our weekend clothes, wiping aromatic pasty-steam from the windows and chatting gleefully. “As soon as we get there, I’m putting my wetsuit on”, “I’m gonna check the surf, it’s supposed to be good today!”.
Yep, it was as cold as it looks…
After two hours of being blissfully battered by the waves, I decided 13 stand-ups was a valiant effort and left the water to snap some pics before taking a very long and very hot shower. The rest of the day included a dip in the pool, staring out to sea from the sauna and my personal highlight, the outdoor hot tub overlooking the bay.
A view from a tub
The evening saw a neat whisky polish off a delicious dinner, as well as more pints than I’d like to count and a few games of pool.
As I said, cathartic.
I’m quite ready for the 2020 outing.
Long live Writing Club