(On the Road)
So the most important thing I've learned about a road trip is that it is made up of four very vital components:
- The most amazing playlist
- Even more amazing company
- The ability to sleep anywhere, at anytime, at any temperature
- Some sort of map (or someone with a rough idea of how the continents are set out)
I was lucky enough to have the top two, whereas me and my sleep require more work. We also had a map as Kai has no sense of direction (I'm sorry but you don't). The funny thing is, the playlist, despite its utmost importance, was made very hurriedly about an hour before we left home. It consisted heavily of the Arctic Monkeys, The Black Keys and The Rolling Stones with quite a few randoms thrown into the mix for fun. But what I'm getting at is I spent months stressing over finding campsites, if we had enough branded sauces, the exact size and shape of my whistling kettle - and the most important thing that accompanied us on our trip was the least stressful, five minute addition, and that's the true nature of a road trip, just get up, grab a few things and go.
The journey down obviously included a wrong turn, argument and some regret as to why the bloody hell I was voluntarily driving 7 hours across country in my overloaded little suzuki swift. We arrived in St.Ives at about 4 in the morning after a seven and a half hour drive. It was dark and pretty confusing and all in all I think we probably slept about 2 hours before driving into the little town to check out the beach. It did NOT disappoint. St.Ives at sunrise was sleepy and serene, with pastel coloured houses lining narrow cobbled streets and the beach was a calm expanse of soft blue, blending into the purple and pink sky. Little did we know at the time we were looking over Porthmeor beach, where I would catch my first wave and find the inspiration for my first tattoo - but that's another story. We threw ourselves into the waves at the first opportunity, hiring out two foamies for the day and getting out there. The most amazing thing about surfing that spurred me on is how social and friendly it is - everyone out there wants you to catch that wave, people spot that you're learning and take the time to come over and give you tips. With the help of Scott, an ex surf instructor, I got up on my first wave and the feeling is something else - and also saved myself about £75 on a 1-on-1 lesson which also felt pretty good. The people down there - or should I say locals - were tanned and lean and beautiful, with a laid back vibe that was contagious, I was sold.
As for the tattoo story, the salt water and sun went to my head and I made the decision to commemorate getting up on that wave and to further remind myself of what life is all about, I booked into shoreline tattoo in St.Ives and had a simplistic wave tattooed onto my upper rip cage. (Unintentionally, I chose one of the most painful areas to get my first tattoo) This was done by a girl with pink hair and a green woman tattooed across her chest named Cherry. The whole thing was pretty vivid.
Our second stop was in Watergate Bay, where we pitched up on a very exposed pitch with a very flappy tent (not so fun at 3am) But the close proximity to the beach and the nightly beers managed to compensate. We surfed in Watergate Bay and on Fistral Beach in Newquay which is worth a visit if you don't surf purely for the giant Havianas flip-flop shower. Unfortunately we got there at the tail end of the surf swell and it was pretty choppy - leading to me getting taken under, rolled around quite a bit and nailed on my shoulder by the end of the board.
Our third and final stop was a two hour drive away from Watergate Bay, to a beautiful campsite just ourside of Ilfracombe where our pitch was shaded by an old sycamore tree and we overlooked Watermouth castle with horses for neighbours. Lack of entertainment on the first night led to us playing games and drawing - which was a humbling break from sitting on my laptop on Netflix or just watching TV. From here we visited the surf town of Croyde where annoyingly we didn't find any swell again but a potential spot for the next trip. Our last night of the trip was idyllic - we ate at a local thatched inn and drove along the coast road to Combe Martin, where we watched the sun go down surrounded by string lights and nothing but the sound of the waves.
What the whole trip has left me with is a sense of knowing what a life on the road is all about. Everything is somewhat temporary - but that's the excitement, it's like the thrill of it is getting more miles under your belt, seeing more, doing more, meeting more amazing people along the way. It's something that myself and my boyfriend talked about doing when we first met, and now that we have survived one long trip together it's easy to imagine a life with him on the road - even if only for a couple of years, chasing the surf and sun, meeting memorable people and just living in the places we happen to stop at. I think it truly captures living in the moment - because what else do you have? You don't have a house with all your belongings, you don't have the ease of knowing where exactly you are - you have the essentials and a map, and you can go anywhere.
"The only people for me are the mad ones,the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a common place thing, but burn, burn. burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."
