Yesterday I decided to stay in town for a street party with the people in the neighbourhood; a great idea and a good way to meet people you sometimes pass in the street, with a nod or not.
Trouble is, it's was northerly and the tail end of the great week of surf that the Ripcurl Pro had at Woollami; I was watching coastalwatch in the morning before the party and Portsea looked so fun: clear blue waves, small and uncrowded, not too windy.
So I'm at the party talking to very nice people, not enjoying myself coz I think I should be surfing. And I get a couple of SMSs saying how good the waves are etc. etc and an email! Sheez.
Surfing can do that! It's done it to me for twenty-five years, and here am I in my late 40s, sitting around in Hawthorn at a lovely barbeque with some new and interesting people who all live in the area, and I'm wishing I was down the surf! I don't know anything else that can do that to you. Which is kinda the beauty and the terror of surfing.
