Surf trip on the mainland 3, 4.

Being arrived 3.

After a full British breakfast I went to the town to take pics from and of cliffs. I walked in the small streets and I felt the whole town makes a living from surfing. Long row of surf shops in the main street, you could hire board and wetsuit anywhere. Even if Newquay has only 20 000 habitant in summertime this figure jumps up to 100 thousand(s). Imagine three people squeezed in a normal bath, surfing here seems like this for me.

Around 10-11 am, I just saw that waves were good to ride them. I went back to the hotel, picked up my stuff, struggled to find a proper place (where I didn’t have to pay for parking), jumped into the half wet wetsuit, run into the water. It was challenging rather than perfect, but yeahhhhh, good! After about two-two and a half hours session I was back to the hotel, and next to do on my list was to find a pair of roller skate shoes.

(Don Quijote's nightmare via Truro) Ok it’s weird looking for roller skates in the capital of British surfing, but I promised to myself that I buy a proper pair on the mainland. I drove to Truro, it’s about 15 miles far from Newquay. I couldn’t find any but I have a new watch. The previous one, the Gul was taken away from me by the ocean in Jersey. I think we didn’t liked each other too much and it just went way. OK, go, be happy! But even though I have a new time meter it’s not the beginning of a new time period.

Tunnel vision 4.

My projects for today were surfing at Fistal and keep looking for proper roller skate shoes. I just went down to the town centre and started asking retailers about good pair of shoes. Eventually I find something that doesn’t have any blade on the middle and four wheels but it has three fins at the back end. Yeah, I must admit I bought, again, a board. Second hand, because until I’m good enough I won’t buy a new one! That is the agreement with me.

You can blame me that I have Tunnel Vision but it is literally true, that’s the brand name of my new board. So for £ 190, I could buy a full equipped nice board, nice red one, actually. The colour dynamic is overwhelming if you see this beside my blue Bilbo.

I didn’t hesitate and went down to the Fistal. The Fistal! One of the most famous surf places in the UK. Tough, choppy waves but I struggled two hours among them, so that I could feel this longer board. Bilbo length is a 6’2”, Tunnel Vision is a 6’10” one, but TV is less stable, much easier to get tilt at one of the sides and get off it. Today, a lot small waves hidden into the big ones did this favour for me.

Surf trip on the Mainland 2.

In the Capital of British Surf

Sidmouth or Bath, that was the question this morning, Sidmouth was the answer. On the way to there I had to stop at couple of places to take pics. I love the British countryside, and swinging on the slim roads isn’t comparable. The best place was an old motor museum somewhere around Seaton and Cloyford.

Down Sidmouth I asked a bloke about waves, and he told me, today I couldn’t expect anything good. Anyway, the upper side of south west peninsula is always better, from this angle. So after taking some breathtaking pics, again, there, I jumped back to the car and drove to Newquay, the capital of British surfing.

Amazing place, as far as I know the town has about 20000 inhabitant, it’s not a big one, but how little sugar candy! I just could take a quick look to the Fistal, I saw the swell, ahhh, clear lines-up, and the water, not like that dirty, sink risen liquid at Kimmeridge, but clear, deep blue. I just stormed in the middle of the town and, at the town beach, got into the water. Imagine a magical place, where there is a sand beach divided by couple of huge rocks, some of them connected by bridges to each other. Just wow! The whole place is about surf! You can come across surf board fabric shops everywhere. I found the Bilbo factory (My first board is a Bilbo, but when I was writing this post this was the only one)! You can book in advance to learn how to surf at every second house.

I wasn’t sure that I would be able to surf today. But I managed it. I met a carpenter guy and his mates at the car park, he showed me the shortest way to the water, and gave me some advice. Eventually I could ride for one or one and a half hour. According to the magicseaweed two-three perfect days are coming!

Surf trip on the Mainland 1.

Hit the road

Yesterday I got on the ferry with my car and with my rumbling stomach. Instead of getting worse I just fell asleep owing to the swinging ship. I woke up in Weymouth. First mission was to get prepared for the next day, which meant I had to find a place to spend the night. It was quick, the seafront was full of hotels and guest houses. 20 quid per night, perfect.

Message to Nadine that I’m alive, wasn’t wiped out by the storm, didn’t sink into the water, and actually I arrived at the place where I wanted. After I thought I solved a problem just got another one. I wasn’t able to send a message from any of my SIM cards. So next day's program was to find out what happened to this technical device, get internet connection, buy a mini gas stove and above all find a surf place.

This morning I saw the bay, from my window. Not bad! After spending my morning taking some tourist pics and solving this technical disturbance (but I don’t still have internet connection) I just kept asking people about good surf spots. Three were recommended, but Kimmeridge “Kem’ridzs” won, because a sales guy from a surf shop told me this is the most popular location.

I was struggling on the way there, just kept asking people about the right direction, fortunately I met a couple who live there, and they offered to lead me there. So I got there fair fast. The view was spectacular, like before the way down there.

It was completely different, not like waves in Jersey, they were fast, entirely unpredictable, coming from two, three directions, duration was high, but they looked like lower and wider, so I went among them, and that sucked! The water was dirty, the bottom was rocky – ok it was told to me that place is a reef break. Even though it was worth doing this!

Tomorrow, heading to Sidmouth, where I wanted to get today, but I changed my mind, anyway, I like this way. Maybe I’ll drive up to Bath, and after visiting that, I’ll go to west Cornwall, Newquay, Bude, Polzeath, etc.

Songs from the kitchen 1.

First, Andrew, our English teacher at Highlands Collage, told me an English EXPRESSION about FOTEL. It is WING BACK CHAIR (Three words)!

Since Rob went I tried to make a good friendship in the Big Freeze (Quoted Sky News). My new friend could not move, actually he doesn’t have any legs, and his arms is too short on his white, ball formed body. No problem, differences cannot put obstacles in the way of a really good friendship!

But first we had some difficulties in our communication. When Rob was here he helped me to improve my English and I thought my new friend would do the same favour for me. However, it seemed to me, in short, my English is much better so I considered that it was my turn to give something back! I have patience, time is on my hands, what else do I need? But soon after I realised it led to a dead end, without answers to my efforts, it’s useless!

Okay, let’s do other thing. Body language is a boundless, independent at cultural background so I started teaching my friend how to surf. It seemed to me a brilliant idea, because after I took off the fins from my surfboard we could have done surfing on the slope behind the building where I live. I prepared to the next day, I checked the forecast as I do when I go out surfing. The wind is gentle, 5 mph, temperature is a cosy 8 Celsius, but I haven’t seen my new friend again...

Anyway, life is heroic. I do what I have to do here. Last time, I saw ten ninjas were attacking a young woman and her three children at St Peter’s Co-op in the car park. And I was there. You know people, they usually just try not to notice what can disturb their normal life. Ten ninjas could be very disturbing for them, as they are about to kill a young woman and her infants. So everybody was packing into their trunk, as if the ninja attack was as normal as staying half an hour inside the shop at the till. But I was there!

So many hours that I’ve spent watching Chuck Norris, Bruce Lee, Jean-Calude Van Damme and above all STEVEN SEAGAL in movies weren’t wasted! I could turn all the benefit that I got from them into real martial art skill in a sec. I don’t pull your time saying how I killed the faceless, cruel, well equipped fighting machines one by one. By now they all are in the morgue. But one of them could touch my face causing a bruise around my left eye. His death was very slow and painful. But it’s just enough to mention that after the bloody massacre people burst into a loud ovation. You know, when people don’t want to realise something and somebody stops the reason they are disturbed by then they are grateful. What is the moral? If you don’t want to be a hero don’t go shopping.


I hope this story is more enter-taining than putting down that the wind smashed my board in my face, and that caused the deep red mark around my eye...

The classy board and the comfy chair

Since I was back here, I've been feeling everything temporary around myself, even though I bought a car and a board – big enough to come across ‘em. These items belong to me but are replaceable, so first I didn’t have particular emotional connections with them. The car and the board represent the freedom and the mobility in my life, and not only represent however also mean!

I recently found a special so-called cushioned chair, this one now rules my room. I came across this throne in the local charity shop, where I looked for a collapsing chair because I’m very short of space. Usually I go buying things with a special purpose (and I never do shopping!) BUT when I saw and positioned my body into that object I was thinking how I could rearrange my room so that I would be able to squeeze in this royal equipment (later about this).

Even though I’m not a big bargain hunter I got the chair £ 12 pounds instead of £ 20. I can imagine the same game in a Turkish bazaar. When you hear the first offer your face suddenly turns into surprise and torment caused by the nonsense of words. However this way you show you’re interested in possessing the item! So after the first bid, £ 20, the seller dropped the price to £ 15 and I felt if I could get this so easily I can obtain a little bit more. So sad face, showing the price causes pain for me but I would take it if only ... Eventually the shop lady told the last bid 12! Then I know that’s it. It is mine. But I felt I shouldn’t have shown my happiness immediately otherwise I’d prove I lied, of course I did, but playing our roles consistently is part of the game. So my face changed, the pain went but I left a pinch of sour expression on it and after couple of seconds hesitation I went to the till with this gorgeous armchair.

When I got it home I started finding out how can I find the right position for the jewel of my room. A drawer is part of every room’s basic equipment, so I grabbed this and the TV on its top and put everything in the wardrobe. If I want to watch telly from my cushioned armchair I have to open the wardrobe door, but it demands too much effort. Anyway I can sleep very well in that, of course at first I always say to myself I study English or read a book or watch a movie (in English), but after 3-5 minutes I fall asleep.

I frankly have to tell you that I’m a little bit disappointed about the fact that there is not a suitable short English word about my perfect chair. Easy chair is two words, like cushioned chair (but even this doesn't exist in English); or carver or recliner is ... I literally don’t know; throne is too royal; Rob told me Chesterfield but these options don’t give the same emotional effect like the Hungarian word FOTEL. Fotel is perfect! It involves the convenience, the perfect size, the prestige that this chair possesses.

By now this item is the central point of my room and life. Usually I don’t throw away my clothes on it, I dry my towels as less as possible on its back, so it has made things (involved me) more organised! I feel now my room is more like a home, therefore my chair must have an aura!

Eventually how can my comfy, home maker chair, which brings about feeling of being settled down, and my frog green car, which gives me mobility and freedom, make a perfect combination? I can put the first one into the second one and I can make a home at anywhere.

Back to surfing

Having three weeks gap in my life, here I am again! A little bit wired when you spend your so-called holiday in your country, you can feel like being tourist. Mostly I tried to have good time at my friends and my parents, more or less it’s succeeded. Though I find some new directions for driving my life forward, I had lost the track. I wouldn’t put details here, those who met me know what I’m writing about.

Having my time in Hungary just like being floated, I didn’t have to wake up early and go to work. But I could meet some good mates, even in the middle of a day, because they are unemployed and surprisingly a few want to go abroad. I just could recommend it for everyone. So fuck off Hungary if you don’t need us!

When I came back the feeling like being nowhere went on. Doing the same thing like before isn’t enthusiastic and falling in the continuous aimlessness is, in short, shit.

So I started to organise my life here, making a tough schedule, ok, not so rigorous daily program but it gives me a pattern! After the first shift I start studying English and besides going down for swimming and being in the sauna. I was just able to do this at the first couple of weeks, but now the most important thing, surfing is back in my life!

I abso-fuckin’-lutely missed it but first the water wasn’t my best friend.

(...) Sometimes it is just sucks, because after half hour paddling I'm not able to get at the right place owing to the massive, high and frequent waves. Though I had good surf later, I couldn't ride at St Ouen for the first three days.

This happend to me yesterday, I way peeling off my wetsuit, when a guy showed up and we started to chat. He told he was heading to St Brelades, I haven't surfed there before, but I heard about that. He also told that there were a bunch of surfers already. So it was worth checking that. Errr, towel at my waist, got in the car, drive it down and yeah, waves were perfect at the bay! Decent size, not too tough and frequent. After half hour suck at St Ouen a deserved gift waited for me at St Brelades.

As you can see at the Hungarian post I bought my wintertime wetsuit. It's two time thicker than my summertime one, I feel as if some heater was inside. But I have to squize my whole body through the hole at the chest, and it's like putting on a sock around my waist and shoulders, uhhhh.