We’d been planning a little surf trip down to North Devon for about a month and randomly choose the last weekend in September. Having travelled to Devon so many times and invariably missing out on epic conditions (such is the life of a landlocked surfer), we went with an open mind and tried to have little (or no) expectations of what the conditions would be like.
On what was apparently the hotest October in the UK on record, we scored some of the cleanest waves, offshore winds and best weather we’ve EVER had on a North Devon surf trip. I surfed in a pair of board shorts all weekend, with a short wetsuit top just to keep the wind off. In all, I reckon I put in about 10-15 hours in the water over the course of the weekend, testiment to the fact that we just couldn’t get enough of what had been served up to us.
Now, call it fate, call it reward for all the times we’ve gone down and it being crap, or call it higher intervention, this time it was an epic session that will go down in the memory as one of the best times we’ve had down in Woolacombe and one that will be hard to top.
You know what comes next!