What a weekend. Considering how sketchy the forecast looked all week, it’s hard to believe how well this trip turned out. Over 20 of us made the pilgrimage down to
Newquay across Friday afternoon and evening some arriving just in time to squeeze in a sunset surf, others rolling straight into bed after the long drive west. Either way, spirits were high from the start. Saturday morning began properly: a convoy to South Fistral via Butter Café for dangerously strong coffees and pastries. Fulled by caffeine and the excitement of finding free parking in Newquay, we got changed and headed into the water with fairly low expectations. The forecast had looked grim all week, but thankfully the swell had other ideas. Conditions were better than predicted, and before long there were twenty-odd very excited London surfers spread across the lineup, all managing to find a few fun waves.
There was a proper mix in the group too seasoned regulars, first-timers, shortboarders, longboarders, and a few people mostly just there for the vibes. Lots of cheering from the shoulder, and the usual amount of accidental saltwater ingestion. After the morning session, the group split in classic surf-trip fashion: some headed into town for lunch, while others made the far more important pilgrimage to Gorse Bakery for coffee and sweet treats before heading back to recharge for round two. The afternoon session back at Fistral ended up being the standout of the weekend for me. The surf cleaned up, the sun started making an appearance, and the atmosphere in the water was unreal. There’s something very special about sharing waves with that many mates sitting in the lineup chatting nonsense between sets, watching people catch some waves, and celebrating each one like it was the wave of the year. That session was exactly what club trips are all about.
By Saturday evening, everyone was properly surfed-out and starving. People scattered between fish and chips, pub dinners, and whatever snacks had survived the journey down from London. The chalets slowly turned into post-surf recovery zones: wetsuits hanging everywhere, people comparing wipeouts, checking Surfline for the hundredth time, and convincing themselves the next morning would somehow be alright. On Sunday, volume was our friend. People went about securing foamies to accommodate the ‘cute’ waves at Watergate Bay. The waves were small but clean, the sky was sunshine and showers and somehow the vibes were still unbelievably high. And what more to top it all off with than a Sunday roast at The Two Clomes or a big team meal? Scenes. Trips like this are never really just about the surf. The waves were fun, but the best part was seeing such a big group come together and make the absolute most of a forecast that could easily have put people off. Massive thanks to everyone who drove, organised, cooked, coordinated boards, and brought good energy all weekend.
