Three stories to write, that’s what happens if you’re just holidaying and not keeping track……
Dotti felt her lucky day as she picked up the emptied yoghurt tub from the floor. There’s always a lot of remains stuck to the sides.
The last full day at Workman’s beach was a bit odd. I wanted to fly my kite, but the weather was not great. Gusty, cloudy, rain not far off. The beach at the Agnes Water surf club is quite narrow and unkiteable at anything but low tide, so I had to wait till the early afternoon.
In the morning we went to the beach, as Marjo described in Life on Workman’s beach.
In the afternoon I jumped on my bike, well that sounds more energetic than what happened. Because we only have bikes when the bus is parked, and the surf beach is 4 km from the camping, I repacked and strapped on the kitebag (I thought for a minute to also take the board) and hoisted myself in the saddle. The bike saddle is for 20 year young men with backsides as narrow as a matchstick and not for my ample behind plus the weight of a kite backpack. So after 10 meters struggling through the soft sand on the camping I knew I would regret this trip. Not that I would ever admit this to anyone.
The presents that I got from my kids over the years pay off. The watertight bag from Joran to bring dry clothes and a towel and the watertight clear bag from Niki for the iPhone. You can even work the phone while in the bag.
Luckily the town of Agnes Water is down hill from the camping and I could almost effortlessly let the bike and gravity do the work while I stood on the paddles, hovering my backside half an inch from the saddle. I stopped at the kiteplace which was on the way to the surf club to see if Phil would be kiting too and also to ask for replacement of a missing repair kit for the kite. Both were confirmed and with fresh enthusiasm I jumped back in the saddle. Mistake……
When I arrived at the surf club (I will spare you the details of the trip) I had to drop the bike sideways so that I could just roll off the bike. Luckily no one was there to watch it as elegant is not something that jumped to mind. I locked the bike and walked to the beach in a way Lucky Luke does. If you don’t know who he is than you have missed part of your youth 🙂
At the beach it was clear that the ocean didn’t get the same tide table that I reviewed. The beach was only visible for about 10 meters deep, from the sharp tree branches to where the waves stop. The lines on the bar are 24 meters though. So I stepped out the 26 meters from the branches to the ocean and ended up thigh-high in the water. Not ideal. Then Phil arrived. He looked like he was not to keen either. The lack of a complete low tide, the gusty wind and also mean high waves didn’t look like the ideal scenario to got kiteboarding. We spoke about the situation which is stupid. Two men not wanting to give in to each other that they rather pack up and go back. So instead we unpacked, pumped up the kites and he helped me launch my kite while I stood almost waist high in the waves. Because I didn’t bring my board, I could only train the kiting, which was ok, and then some body dragging. That was not ok. I swallowed the half of the ocean that I missed out on last time I went. I decided that I had proven that I didn’t pedal all that way for nothing and landed the kite in Phil’s hands. Then it was his turn. I helped launching his kite and he got on his board (he has been kiteboarding for 37 years) and kited out and on the way back caught a wave wrong and went under. Then he dragged back to shore and that was it for him too. It was just no fun.
We spent another hour or so just talking and getting packed up, blown dry and headed back. The bike ride back was even more fun than the way there, this time up hill and wind in my face.
It was great to see the bus set up for a windy and colder day and have Nossi jump when he saw me, see Dotti’s tail wag and hear the ‘Hey, you’re back” from Marjo. All in all a good day.
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