Holiday Inn, the surfers friend…

You know that saying, ‘a bad days is surf is still better than a good days work’, well the other day I had to disagree.

Desperation for water time recently drove me to attempt to grab a surf at a city centre spot before attending a conference for work. This was a bad idea, the waves that looked okay from shore where gutless and messy and on the wrong side of the tide. I was on such a tight schedule I didn’t stretch, so whilst paddling I pulled a recurring muscle injury, rendering me only able to perform a pathetic Finding Nemo style one arm paddle. The only option to stop myself heading off to France in a rip was to hurl myself at a concrete groin, which wasn’t healthy for my ego or board. The highlight of the whole experience was getting changed in the warm, dry, underground car park of the Holiday Inn (why are conferences always at Holiday Inns?) It was an absolute luxury, if after such a shit surf I’d had to struggle out of my gear in the usual gravely, wind swept car park I would have wept, god bless you Holiday Inn.


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