My alarm starts to sound. 5:30am. This is the time I went to bed the day before. The thought of getting into the North Sea is grim enough to clinch my duvet tight. There’s no light outside.
I leave my bed with the thought of coffee. The kettle whistling, my second alarm. Drinking my coffee by the window, Hal arrives. It’s time to get going. I strap my board to the roof and hop in.
It’s Monday morning at Durham and we are going for a sunrise surf. Desperately seeking the feeling of adventure to break the monotony of university life. The beach is only half an hour away.
Arriving at the beach the sky starts to ignite with a bit of light. All 3 of us aren’t in any rush to get out the car and put on our wetsuits. The thought of taking off my clothes in this weather doesn’t make me smile. But the waves do. Standing in the carpark in the dark I squeeze into my wetsuit. We grab out boards and start running, screaming from excitement and the cold.
We start to paddle out. Crashing through the first set my brain was buzzing. This sort of high. This electricity through my brain. Wired. Even the drops from my hair onto my face made me grimace.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen the sunrise. Especially the sun rising over the ocean. I don’t think there’s many things that can quite compare to it. Waiting for the first set, sitting on my board. Hues of red, pink and blue. Birds soaring in the sky and bombing down for their morning feed. My ears filled with the caws of the birds and the waves. It’s this enthralling sense of peace almost. it’s a pretty good way to start the week.
The surf wasn’t the best today. Most of the waves would close out quickly. It didn’t really matter though. What mattered was just being there. Hanging out in the water, surfing some waves, and wiping out on others. You can’t beat it. Leaving my bed in the morning I knew it wasn’t going to be the surf of a lifetime, but it was a hell of a lot better than sleeping. It’s about doing something you will remember. Having some fun. L-I-V-I-N.
Leaving the sea, the cold started to hit. I gunned it to the car. I lobbed my board on the roof of the car and started taking off my wetsuit. Frantically jumping up and down screaming, I received some looks of concern. I felt concerned. My body was starting to hurt. It felt like there was this delay between my brain sending signals to my body and my body responding. Every movement was delayed. Cold. Cold. Cold. Pain. Pain. Pain. Naked in the car I was desperate for my clothes. I threw on four layers.
Out of our wetsuits and all of us wrapped up, our trip was over, and it was time to get back to Durham. ‘Click, Click, Click’. F*ck. The engine was dead. Honestly, I didn’t even care about driving I just wanted the heater. I was cowering in my seat shivering. Hal called up a breakdown service and they quoted him £150. That wasn’t an option. Jacko started roaming the beach with the dream of finding us a saviour. I wasn’t moving.
Jacko returned victorious. The engine was running, and the heat was pumping. Back to Durham we go.
Driving back the world was now alight and it was time for our morning lectures. The thrill of adventure shouldn’t be confined to summer holidays or distant far-off places. It can be felt on a Monday morning.