Green Grass eh?

Saturday morning, 4:53 am, wake up, get dressed and in the van.

26 mins road time and pull up at Freshwater carpark. Sun's coming up. No one out.

'It's pretty straight', said Dave, the night before. 'Supposed to spike over night...'

"It is pretty straight' I thought as I looked on and the sun rose. And no spike to be seen.

Maybe Curly? jumped in and scooted round the corner to be greeted with the shot you see...

Oh.

Back to Freshy. Dave was going to be out in the middle at the supposed infrequent but nicely shaped left and Lorenzo was going to meet us in the water.

One guy out. Dave. Always reliable and a staunch advocate of the 7 out of 10 rule.

Suited up and paddled out. Smaller than it looked and also getting quite full. No mysto left either.

Caught a couple of fat out, takeoffs. Noice (sic). The crowd within an hour of sunrise was overwhelming.

An hour and a half later, while enjoying a fantastic breakfast with Dave, overlooking the Bower (flat), it occurred to me I had gone to a lot of effort to highlight the supposed surf fest with a hearty meal.

The grass is always greener on the other side.

Damn right.