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Badfish
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« on: June 07, 2008, 11:32:46 AM » |
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at 715pm my flatmate podge mentioned he was going for a surf and if i didnt mind sitting in the back of his van with surfboards, wetsuits and other implements of destruction i could tag along. Tag along i did, and after the obligatory "there's no seatbelt (or even seat for that matter) back here so don't crash" instruction by me we headed off for a spot in Connemara in the far west of Ireland called Dun Loughan. Halfway through the journey a car pulls out in front, hits the breaks, and waits for the impact of our van. Luckily, a broken bumper and leaking radiator was the only damage and after a quick stop to pick up roughly 10 gallons of water we were back on the road. After stopping about 3 times more to re-hydrate the leaking car we got to Dun Loughan. Now, typically I wouldn't spot name such an unknown place, but for one, the path to get there involves driving down myriad unmarked roads, 2 unpaved roads, and 1 grassy field filled with what appeared to be sand traps from an old golf course. Secondly, we still aren't sure we actually surfed Dun Loughan as our view of mountains on the other side of the bay didn't correlate well with the maps version of open ocean. Even with knowledge of the name, if you can find it, you deserve it. The spot itself was a little cove, outgoing tide, about 2 to 3 feet and choppier than we had hoped for, but the water was turquoise, the setting was ideal and no one else was out so fun was had despite the sub-par conditions. With light fading but still emanating from below the horizon we hopped out of the water at about 11:45 at night, a fact which didn't seem surprising to the two Irish guys I was with, but for me the possibility of surfing till midnight made me love this country even more.
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