Surfing
I know I've covered the surfing thing before so, sorry to drag it up again. It was prompted by watching some shite on the TV about Newquay and the fools who visit the place.Newquay isn't a bad place really. I had the dubious pleasure of being posted to RAF St Mawgan for a brief spell before going to Northern Ireland, so this would have been about 1988.
The whole town was filled with scruffy individuals slopping around half in, half out of wet suits and all toting a surf board.
Newquay has, for one of its beaches, the "world famous" Fistral Beach. Allegedly the best surfing beach in the UK and one of the best in the world.
Well, as you can see from the pic above, it's pretty tame stuff. The fact that while I was there I never saw one of these surf-dudes anywhere near the water and, in the pic, the water is somewhat devoid of the twats is a testament to the fact that surfing and its proponents are frauds.
posted by liits at 10:31 AM
2 Comments:
Thing is - right - if the waves are that naff, why are people walking around in wet suits. Is there a Club we need to know about?
One thing about supporting a non-league football club is that everyone knows everyone (average attendance about 250!) and I have friends there across all the generations & class barriers. People I otherwise would never meet or mis with at all. One is a middle class lad, who's currently at uni., who went to a local public school on a half-scholarship. He went down to Newquay once, & he's what I call posh. But he said he felt so out of place down there among the Kensington & Chelsea Slaony type crowd. They must've been right stuck up prats if he never liked them.
Time for a couple of bus loads of kids from the council estates I grew up on to put them in their place & give them a few slaps perhaps...
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