My plan this winter was to stay at home and surf some decent winter swells around Ireland. As fait had it, the wind didn't stop howling on shore for the whole month of january, and the rain was relentless, enough to drive any sane human, insane. when you have to try and surf in those conditions it makes you contemplate surfing being a fun sport, and makes you question yourself to why you do it, when you start going backwards, bogging cut backs and tripping up on lame attempt to get to your feet.
I think these to pictures sum it up pretty well.
Above the day i left UK
Below the day i arrived Bali
This place is truly goofy footers heaven, every time i come here i wish i was goofy,
but i still love it
From barrels to punts, the wave offers pretty much everything.
The local camel checking out the lineup .
I couldn't believe my eyes when we turned up and seen this lineup.
I put it out there on the paddle out, that it looked like the best waves i had ever surfed to date.
Soon to realize that it was also one of the shallowest waves i had ever surfed as well.
The pits were square, grinding down the reef in bursts of anger.
I managed to pick of a couple of crazy barrels, before getting slammed hard on to the reef.
I was slung around the pit and hit the reef so hard that it felt like there was no water to break my fall.
I had a bad feeling that i had paralysed my self, but lucky enough the outcome of a few cuts, grazes, a very sore back and no surfing for a couple of weeks, was the price to pay for those few sweet, sweet barrels.
