I'm a little cold, there's a bracing wind and I've shed all my clothes bar a towel. The surf's not amazing but there is some and I haven't been out for days. My wetsuit smells appalling, dug out from the bottom of the boot where it lies half damp in a plastic bag. The sea's choppy, menacing although small and scattered with the small dark shapes of surfers like birds bobbing up and down. The wind blows salt into our faces and whistles occasionally off cars.Sunday, May 18, 2008
Day 50, Aldinga Foreshore
I'm a little cold, there's a bracing wind and I've shed all my clothes bar a towel. The surf's not amazing but there is some and I haven't been out for days. My wetsuit smells appalling, dug out from the bottom of the boot where it lies half damp in a plastic bag. The sea's choppy, menacing although small and scattered with the small dark shapes of surfers like birds bobbing up and down. The wind blows salt into our faces and whistles occasionally off cars.
