I hate perfect days.
Paddled out yesterday full of expectation as the waves were straight from a high school doodle. I felt as though I couldn't put a foot wrong until I attempted to stand up and discovered I couldn't put a foot right. Tripping over bloody booties, then eventually getting so effing cold Roboto took over before Hesitation Man filled what available neurons are left after the Alzheimer's kicked in.
Just short of five hours out there, with two good waves. A few almost's but really!
Finally sorted a good one through Rincon that had me in shock upon realising my feet actually hit the spot.
I know I shouldn't complain, and fervently hope any Victorians reading this had a better day as it deserved being enjoyed. At least there was some good conversation out the back.
Until next time.
PS: Winki was going OFF as I left... Also, Congratulations young Jordy in Saffa Land, and well done Adam Melling, too.