On the way to Bristol I stopped at the local pub and drank a couple of beers.

On the way out a guy offered me some Charlie, "good price my friend”.

Thanks but no, I'm really short of cash at the moment. 

Tomorrow I'm heading to Swansea. I thought I spotted some good spots on the map. 

Although this area looks like it has plenty of surfing spots, I'm really looking forward to heading to Ireland. I lived 200% in Scotland because of the world class waves and the dangers. I know I'll find this on a daily basis on the green island. 

More in the next episode.

After an English breakfast in Bristol, I hit the road, heading for a nice little bay I had spotted on Google map. 2 hours later I arrived in a breathtaking bay. Beautiful rocks, glassy water. 

There was 1m50 in the bay, but in the distance, a pointbreack that was chucking up wild waves, 3m at least.

I went to check it out. The waves were big but perfect, nasty straights that ran along a rock tongue. I got my gun ready and ran out into the water. No one was in the water, as usual. 

Two soldiers were watching the water from their semaphore. As I passed they wished me good luck. I knew that I was in for a tough session. 

I went into the water at the point. Very quickly I understood that the current was mega intense! 

I struggled for an hour, and I can assure you that paddling for an hour to pass a bar is very long. 

I ended up giving in, there are times when the sea gets the better of us. No wave caught, I came back empty-handed. Once again the north got the better of me. I have this nagging feeling that surfing in the north has to be earned. 

So I gave in and got even with a few good beers in the local pub. Good waves tomorrow, at least on paper.

Song of the day: Tombstone Shadow, Credence Clearwater Revival.

Wild session, 4m, alone, impossible to pass the bar, due to the current, the north got the better of me, crazy country, where the limits are never set by me!