Cornish Waterworld

The West Country is damp, super damp. I've actually abandoned Cornwall because it was so wet. Well not entirely, I did have to come back to Devon to pick up some things before I could go and mess around on Tall Ships but I think I'll stay in Devon for the rest of the week instead of going back to Cornwall for more camping.

The surfing photo shoot went well, the photographer this time was amazing, really amazing. Photographers and their subjects should get along as you both have to do something a bit weird together. If you do get on then it's great fun and you can tell it's fun from the photos, if you don't it's awful.

We only had a few hours to get all the shots we needed and I had to borrow clothes off strangers (I'm quite proud of being able to get someone to give me their hoodie for half an hour when they had no idea who I was) and get women I'd never met before to pose in photos but we managed it and it was good. I even had time to have a light brunch with the photographer while we waited for the instructor to return.

Posing strangers was fun as they kept acting all stiff because the camera was on them. We didn't have time to give them a few drinks because we had to take photos fast so we had to resort to being silly. Also we needed some 'wine' for the photos and I suggested we use black current juice and water which looked the part and made me feel like a special effects person, albeit one in someone else's hoodie.

It was a good day, and the photos are stunning. I'm tempted to post one even though it would out me and that is not good. Instead I'll save it for something else like an official work website which I should have set up years ago.

Do they really work? Has anyone got work through their website?

Emergency photographs and Hitchcock Blondes

There has been a bit of a to-do, a piece was dropped from a paper and so they needed to run the surfing piece I wrote ages ago instead. This presents additional problems because the previous photos weren't up to it and so they needed new photos, taken this weekend.

Due to some sort of minor miracle I happen to be only a short hop away from the surf school this weekend so by calling in favours and thanks to an extremely helpful PR we are going to be able to stage the photos and get the piece ready in time. I just hope this miracle pays off, I mean surely an editor is going to throw you more work after you have saved her bacon when no-one else could, right?

On Monday I'm off Tall Ship racing so it's quite an activity filled weekend. I'm really looking forward to dancing about on a ship but I'm not looking forward to the drive so much - it will be about four hours there and four hours back, maybe more. The post sailing drive is going to be the killer I reckon.

After the ship racing I'd really like to spend some time resting, possibly entertaining visiting Hitchcock Blondes but instead I'll be back to Cornwall to resume the camping holiday. I don't think I've ever been camping in a restful way but then I normally only go in tents at festivals or other sorts of parties involving lots of gin so perhaps this will be just what I need post nautical adventure.

Surfing, Aching and inappropriate touching

Where to begin? Well I ache every where. Surfing requires muscles I didn't know I had. It's slightly my own fault as yesterday I stayed in the water for hours waiting for 'just one more wave' even when everyone else had gone in. This seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I'm starting to regret it. Ouch.

The surfing was fun and the girls were very pleasant, we didn't actually interact with them that much - the organisers had got us some private lessons with an instructor so we got to progress very quickly but sadly didn't get as much splashing around and giggling. Ho-Hum.

I managed to stand up and ride some (admittedly very tame) waves and this was going brilliantly until somehow I ripped the nail off my big toe. It must have been on a passing shark or something. I had to stop then, to try and bandage it back on and then instructor recommended I stay out of the water for a bit so we limped into town to get some medical supplies, which ended up as some drinks, then a few more.

Post drinks we hobbled back while doing a bit of light shopping and I hit the steam rooms which amazingly really helped the toe. In the evening we had a big meal with all the girls , and then went to an awful bar. It was terrible - packed with stag parties who were farting away almost constantly which made you long for the days of smoking and then a terrible live band appeared. It was enough to drive a chap to drink, which I did and it was around the time that we started drinking bright red drinks that the dancing contest started. We were drinking quite a lot because we had be told that surfing as a good hangover cure and we wanted to test this theory.

This went on until about 2am when the prospect of an early morning surf seemed a bit daunting so we got a cab back. I had a couple of moments during the night where I had to go and sit by the loo, just in case but I was fine and we woke up at 7am to go and surf. The surfing did clear our heads brilliantly and I ended up staying out for hours after the photographer had gone. The photographer was awful. Every time I did something good - like share a wave with a chum while striking dramatic poses the photographer would be playing with a passing dog or getting something out of his shoe.

After I finished surfing - I was so exhausted I had trouble walking we had a light lunch and I went for a special surf massage. This was excellent although the lady doing it seemed to touch my bum an awful lot so afterwards I didn't know if I should call the police or buy her flowers.

Sadly at this point out surfing adventure was over and we bundled back into the bus, all skin-kissed with salty hair and went back to London. It was a great experience and I'm going to be surfing again, perhaps in a few weeks but I don't think I'll be buying any gear just yet, it was good, but not as good as motorcycles.

No beard, no news

My week of relaxing in Devon is drawing to an end, and I still have no news. Argh etc. At least I'll be distracted for the next few days. I'm going to an all-girl surfing school in Cornwall to learn how to surf.

I didn't realise it was an all-girls school when I arranged it but they are allowing me to go anyway. I'll be staying in a hotel with 15 other girls, well women really. It's a school for grown-ups. 15 lovely women from London who are getting away for a weekend, and me. Ding to the dong.

Right, I have to shave off my beard, find a good bottle of brandy to take with me (for night caps of course) and select my cravats for the trip.