Words & photography by Alf Alderson | Main photo Charlie Sime at Whitesands
I’m just back from checking the surf at my local break. It’s a grey, wet day (we are in Wales after all…) and the gentle wind is slightly cross/onshore, which may explain the lack of people taking on the modest chest-high swell. Two, to be precise, one of whom gets out five minutes after I arrive.
However, over the last couple of weeks we’ve had days when the swell has been clean and overhead, it may even have been sunny, and there’s still been no more than ten people in the lineup. The water temperature is in the high teens, everyone out there knows each other so there’s plenty of banter – what’s not to like? And why are there so few of us liking it?
“Outside the annual summer holiday shitfight it’s always pretty quiet, which… can add a certain enchantment to the surfing experience.”
Maybe the medieval Welsh term for this area, ‘gwlad hud a lledrith’ (‘land of mystery and enchantment’) still applies even in the 21st century, for outside the annual summer holiday shitfight it’s always pretty quiet hereabouts, which is a bit of a mystery – and can add a certain enchantment to the surfing experience.