June is sprung, the finest month of the year.
Everyone will try and tell you how september is the best month around here, but they can keep it. I’ll take June thanks. I dont really see how you can argue with a month that gives you peas in the pod. When I split that green envelope and yip the little green shiny fellas direct into my gob it reminds me of early 80’s Wimbledon epics between Navratilova and Everet Lloyd with my mum telling me off for devouring her PYO harvest. Soz mum. Look, the fit one (Everet Lloyd) has just broken back…
Hacky Joel Gray is back in town after another season teaching over privileged white kids how to ski in the alps. Hackington does surf coaching courses for young Brit groms where he trains em and videos em and generally imparts shred knowledge. There are currently seven groms staying at my place, who havent had a whole lot of surf yet (its been dead flat for 3 days). But all thats about to change when a low swoops in and 70mph winds will be whipping some whitewater ramps at the end of the street.
There is also Croyde’s Lyndon Wake in residence by my gates. He’s here for the summer to shred, keep it real and hopefully lose some weight. He’s been doing Billabong fashion shows the past couple of days and got so into it that hes considering a career change.
Yesterday Glenn ‘Micro’ Hall popped by for a cuppa and was telling me about some epic waves he had in Ireland just recently. He surfed solid Aileens on a 6’8″ and also got some pits at the left slab they call Riley’s. Micro is leaving today for the six star in the Maldives. He’s got to get Ryanair to Stansted and then get a bus or a taxi round the M25 to be at Heathrow within two hours. Rush hour, fri nite, good luck with that one Micro.