smorgasboarder Sometimes a perfect wave can make you forget a lot of things, like a sharp reef, cold water and icy offshore winds. When you think of a surf trip what comes to mind? Empty, pumping waves, long left or right handers, warm water and an endless supply of beer to lap up with your best mates. You certainly don’t think wind, freezing temperatures, grey skies, 5mm wetsuits, booties, gloves and a hoodie to match. I’m talking about the northwestern tip of Ireland, yes that’s right, the land of leprechauns, four leaf clovers and Guinness, the place I chose to go on a surf trip. On my arrival to Ireland I was typically welcomed with bleak, cold and bitter weather, a change from the previous weeks that I’d spent basking in the Mediterranean sun. But I wasn’t here for the weather, I was here on a mission, to surf - something that the Mediterranean couldn’t quite offer me in the summer months. I made my way up the dramatic west coastline, awed by the beauty that was on offer from the ragged cliff edges to the long golden sand beaches that were contrasted by the lush, vibrant green mountains. The ‘image’ of Ireland that I had created in my head started to change with each passing kilometre. Finally I arrived at my home for the next two weeks, Bundoran. Bundoran, or as it is known in Irish Bun Dobhráin (which means the foot of the little water), is a small seaside town located in the northwestern region of Ireland. With countless reef and beach breaks in close proximity to be found, I couldn’t wait to get wet, even if the water temp was a meagre nine degrees!!! By the end of my first few days spent in this tiny seaside town, 20 thousand miles from where I lived, I could not have felt more at home. The locals were some of the most friendly I had ever come across in my time travelling. Not only were they more than happy to share their waves with blow-ins from the other side of the world, but they were equally as friendly out of the water, with plenty of Guinness drunken post-surf. The waves were consistent and aplenty, anything from short, hollow A-Frame reef breaks to long, mellow sand-bottom point rollers. Spoilt for choice, I surfed for as long as I could and as much as my body allowed me to stay in the cold water. Eventually all good things must come to and end, even if only temporary, and that was the case with the waves in Bundoran. They say to always take the positives from the negatives, so I thought about how I didn’t have to squeeze back into my soaking, icey 5mm wetsuit, which made me feel a lot better. Bundoran is not only home to some of the best waves in Ireland, but also home to some great mountains that can be found a short drive away from the town centre. One that stands out from the rest of the bunch for it’s interesting shape, is Benbulbin Mountain, which stands at 526 metres above sea level. Surrounded by local farms and flocks of wooly sheep, for what Benbulbin lacks in height it sure makes up for in sheer steepness. I completed the circuit in about two and a half hours however it was a gruelling two and a half hours, which made it even more satisfying when I returned to the safety of level ground. One last pint of Guinness as I watched the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean for the final time with the conquered Benbulbin Mountain glistening in all her beauty behind me, Ireland you had been good to me, more than good. I said my goodbyes to the friends I had made during my stay and swore I’d be back for more. 28
smorgasboarder this is sort of like that saying ‘only a surfer knows the feeling’ kind of moment. 29