Little did they know that this would be one of the only successful surfs of the trip. Kai and Dion were to meet up with Craig and Dane but had one free day while those two took the opportunity to rip Wave Garden, the fake European wave in Spain.
Walking up this day, Dion and Kai — who left his camera behind, only bringing along a wettie, Neck Beard and his Yashica T4 — found a stretch of high tide peaks: punts, turns, and a few sneaky mini-pits. A few best friends enjoying a rare surf in a life surrounded by surf, but rarely spent splitting peaks together. This was a sign of things to come for the trip.
But as it often the case on surf trips: it wasn’t.
Following this surf, the France trip turned mauvais. Tail-chasing. Late nights. Too much wine. Not enough surfing. Shitty conditions. Bad tides. Rain. Wind. Bad sand. Costume parties. Tea parties. Dawn patrol letdowns. Late morning frustration. Staring into the eyes of a city that’s battening down the hatches for a long winter following its grand finale event, the Quiksilver Pro.
They pictured long, warm and lonely beach days with baguettes, jugs of red wine and a bunch of cute peaks, but the weather was terrible and there was nothing to do but sit at the house and watch the rain. “Had we been relaxing, we’d have enjoyed the elements,” said Kai. “But we were there to make things happen: Dane, Craig and Dion wanted to rip, but it just wasn’t possible. We still had a hell time, but when your expectations are set high, and you’ve got the world’s best ready to shred, it can be frustrating.” But on this day, it was anything but: just fun peaks and your best friend, in France. Salud.