We made the decision to go on a Scottish Surfari using our tried and tested method of doing no planning at all. "I hear there's good surf on Lewis, we could camp on the beach" was about all we did, and we decided that the plan was bulletproof.
However, the ferry proved to be too expensive, so we radically altered the plan by saying "I hear there's good surf at Thurso, we could camp on the beach".
So, Friday morning dawned, I had just finished a night shift and had 7 days before I had to be back at work. I raced home, napped for a couple of hours and then rushed out to pack the car, ready for an awesome surf adventure. All I needed was a surfboard.
No worries though, the local surf shop had one left, not really my size, but never mind! Stop at Colin's, and we were off to Thurso. Thurso Baby!
Several hours later, enthusiasm was waning.The weather forecast was crap; cold weather, gales and snow. We couldn't have gone to Lewis if we'd wanted, the ferry was cancelled. Not to worry, we were hard as nails. However, just as we reached Inverness I did start to worry when I got a text from my girlfriend saying she'd found my sleeping bag in the hall. Brand new Tesco Value sleeping bag in hand, we pressed on northwards into the dark.
Colin reckoned it was the furthest North he'd ever been, it was late, it was very dark, it was snowing and we were trying to find somewhere to camp. Many idyllic looking laybys flashed by, all with signs saying "No Parking Overnight". Why the hell not?
Anyway, eventually we reached Thurso, and we drove straight out the other side, still searching for a campsite. We tried a couple of promising looking laybys, too stony for camping, too wet, and none of them were ideal for camping snobs like us. We had almost resigned ourselves to having to compromise when we found this amazing layby, sculptured grass, and a little wall to shelter our tent. "No Parking Overnight" sign ignored, fingers repeatedly blown on to fend off the cold as we placed the poles, we managed to get the tent and sleeping bags deployed. We had thought of ourselves as wild surf dudes and brought a case of beer so we could party all night and surf all day, however, when faced with the hideous truth that drinking a beer would necessitate getting out of the tent at some point to relieve ourselves, we promptly ditched the idea and tried to get some sleep.
To be fair to my Tesco bag, it kept me alive, but that's about all I can say. Neither of us slept much that night, it was pretty cold, and there was always the irrational fear that some sort of roving layby enforcers would wake us at 3am and tell us to move on.
Dawn came eventually, and we stumbled out into more cold and wind. The sea was a total mess, completely blown out by the ferocious wind. Although the Heroes in us demanded that we get the suits on and get in, the Piemasters in us demanded that we go to Thurso and eat some hot food. Heroes Nil, Piemasters One.
After recupperating in a little bakery, we headed down to the harbour to seek out the local surf shop, as Colin needed to hire some boots and gloves. The shop was closed, probably because conditions were awful and no one would be stupid enough to go surfing. Reluctantly, we decided to move on. The nearest place we could get surfing kit was Inverness, so we started heading south again. We stopped off to have a look at Brora, and the waves looked amazing! Our Footprint guide said that this was a good place to try if the North Coast was blown out, and it was true, it looked awesome. I couldn't wait to get in, but we still had to get Colin's stuff, so we headed on to Inverness, resolved to come straight back and camp on the beach.
It's hard to believe, and we were incredulous, but there's nowhere in Inverness to buy surfing kit. Elgin was the nearest place. So we were off on the road again. We decided to check the Magic Seaweed forecast on Colin's phone, something that was very useful, and something we should have done before we even left the house. It said that conditions were set to change overnight, and that Brora would be poor tomorrow, whilst the Moray coast would be firing. We very nearly forgot our lesson and ploughed back up to Brora, but we soon realised that this was a fools errand. Drive another 100 miles, just to make camp, and then have to drive back in the morning to get the best waves. We decided to write the day off for getting any surfing done, and stay in the Moray area, with the hope of being straight into the surf the next day. Colin's girlfriends house was in Nairn, so we headed there for some warmth and an escape from my Tesco hell.
So, on day one of our amazingly cheap surfing and camping on the beach trip, we had burned lots of diesel, not done any surfing, spent lots of money on new kit, and sacked off the camping because it was too cold. How hardcore are we?!
The next day dawned, bright and sunny, and much warmer. We headed to Lossiemouth, and conditions were great. We'd never surfed there before, and it was great to finally get into the water and do something after 2 days of driving. Both of us were catching some good waves, but we hadn't been surfing in months, and very quickly we both got tired. This was frustrating, I knew that we had near perfect conditions, but my fitness wasn't up to scratch after too much couch action. With tiredness, eventually cold started to seep in, and our dream was fast becoming a miserable experience. After a couple of hours, we headed in to get warm and dry and have some lunch.
We continued our Odyssey, and set off for another beach. Banff got a good write up in the guide, and sine my Mum lives about 15 minutes away from there, it seemed like a good plan to go there, surf for the afternoon and then head to my Mum's for some tea and central heating.
When we got to Banff, we weren't sure about going in. It looked good, but not awesome, and the memory of the cold was still burning in my fingers. The Piemasters were rolling over the Heroes and smothering them.
Then, out of nowhere, the most enthusiastic guy I'd ever met appeared and started telling us about the Banff surf club. He was called Davie and he loved surfing. He showed us round his little hut that he'd had done up, stocked full of boards and suits, and explained how he'd set the whole thing up. His enthusiasm fired us again, and I bought some new gloves from him to keep the cold at bay. And then before we knew it we were in the sea again, about to have one of the best sessions I've ever had surfing. I caught a great wave straight away, I was warm, and didn't feel anywhere near as tired as I had earlier. Davies enthusiasm was infectious. Everyone was chatting, and would give up waves for each other all the time, it was really enjoyable, with none of the "Local's Only" crap that you hear about. Davie in particular was great, pointing out waves and shouting encouragement to total strangers. I think this is esactly how surfing should be.
We surfed until the light started to fail, and by this time Colin had started to suffer from the cold, so we packed up and headed for my Mums. Hardcore? Nope. Stoked? Yep.
The next day the forecast was crap everywhere that was within reach. We considered visiting some beaches on the east coast just to see, maybe the forecast would be wrong, but we thought better of it. We figured we could spend the whole day searching the coast and find nothing. Maybe that's part of a good surf trip. But we also thought, what the hell, we could just head straight back to Edinburgh, and get a good ride in at Glentress, and then we knew we'd have fun. So we did. Stoked again.
We both learned a few lessons from this trip. Practice is key in surfing, and if you haven't surfed for months, and you're not up to scratch, then don't bother driving hundreds of miles searching for the ultimate wave, just get down the local break and have some fun. I was amazed to find a great break and a great bunch of guys just down the road from where I grew up.
Also, listen to the forecast. If it's firing 30 miles away from where you live, don't bother driving 300 miles to the North Coast so you can sleep in a tent.
If you are going on a road trip, take everything you need with you. You can't rely on finding the stuff you need on the way, and we wasted a lot of time driving around trying to find a shop. We could easily have avoided this.
Maybe it's not about being hardcore, and being the best, but just about having fun with your friends. Davie's enthusiasm and friendliness certainly made the day for me, and I think we made a good decision to just head for Glentress on the last day, just do what ever's going to be the most fun!
