When we came out with our painstakingly-researched thought-provoking masterpiece, Exposed: The 5 Worst Places To Go on A Surf Trip Today, we had the surf world in our thrall.
Y’all tended to either love or hate it, and if you hated it, it was only coz you knew it was all true. Cornwall*, SW France, Australia, Bali and the Ments had hitherto all been part of intricate conspiracies perpetuated by both the surf and mainstream media, and there we were, luckily, to tell it like it really is.
While most of your comments were themed around the skill of our penmanship and the veracity of our observations, there were also many calling for further surf destination myth-busting. “What about Hawaii?!?” said Penny in Tunbridge Wells, “The North Shore should be on this list!” demanded Kaipo in Ghent.
Luckily, we knew a surf journalist who wields a righteous sword of truth any chance he gets. His name is Ben Mondy, and this is what he had to say on the 5 Next Worst Places To Go on A Surf Trip Today…
*Remarkably, most of the protests seemed to surround Kernow’s inclusion on the list, as opposed to merely being grateful it was even being mentioned in the same breath as the other four. You crazy mother bitches.
The Canary Islands
“‘Europe’s Hawaii’ has a ring of truth. For it’s probably only the North Shore that can match the Canaries’ mix of powerful waves and outright hostility”
I once was dropped in by a longhaired bodyboarder on a six-foot slab in the Canaries. He airdropped from the shoulder, landed on my head, and with legropes (mine) and ponytails (his) entangled we were both driven headfirst into the volcanic rock.
When I paddled back out, instead of an apology, I was greeted by my assailant and six of his coiffured flippered mates. They proceeded to back in, bum first and rain down blows on my head with their Churchilled feet.
It’s worth noting that was one of my more pleasant experiences in the Islands.
Europe’s Hawaii; the old surfing adage about the Canary Island goes. And it has a ring of truth. For it’s probably only the North Shore of Oahu that can match the Canaries’ mix of powerful waves and outright hostility.
The waves are obviously world class, it’s just that 98 per cent of them are made ineligible by the local cunts that ride them. And it’s not just some waves that are off limits, but whole frigging islands.
Now, sure, there are little enclaves where it’s still possible to get waves. It’s just that these are the waves that the locals don’t bother with and where just you, and 300 German learners, can go and fight amongst the 200 knot offshores.
Other opportunities also arise in the hour just before sunrise, and the hour just after, where you can fill your boots before the locals slowly wake up, paddle out and berate you for having the audacity to surf on your own at such an ungodly hour.
Away from the waves though it does boast some delightfully tacky tourist traps. On these strips it’s possible to order a pint of Stella at 8am, and spend the day watching members of the National Front and soccer hooligan’s families collective aggression increase in proportion with their third degree sunburn and alcohol intake.
By the end of the first week in Canaries your surfing soul starts to resemble that of the landscape – a barren, gnarled surface devoid of any charm or life.
Still, the flights are cheap.
“By the end of the first week in Canaries your surfing soul starts to resemble that of the landscape – a barren, gnarled surface devoid of any charm or life”