Well, when we arrived at Caswell the surf was excellent. Good foam, decent sized waves with a good strong wind blowing off the Atlantic. Skipping gleefully, I went to the cupboard where we thought I'd left my wetsuit and, horror or horrors, no wetsuit!
So, watching the beach eagerly, I dragged the last of my pennies together and next day bought myself a new one in Mumbles (after a tour round Swansea looking for an XL in my price range). Returning to the flat (I'm always amazed how much it looks like Tracy Island when the sun shines), and for the rest of our holiday, the sea was smooth as milk pond with not a single surfable wave in sight. I could have cried.
It's interesting (with the recent dredging and the new repairs to the sea wall at the flats) just how much the bay has changed in the last 12 months. Caswell is a bay eroded along two north-south faults in the local limestone, which appears to have been hit far more heavily by erosion in the last year.
It was sunny, I'll give it that. Hot even, and the beach was packed with desperate vitamin D hungry Brits. We did a bit of Geocaching, a lot of lounging and staring at the horizon from the patio, a spot of walking, got out in Sea Serpent (the 10 metre water jet propulsion R.H.I.B. we got out in last year) and spotted some Atlantic Grey Seals and stuff off Worms Head, went for dinner with the inlaws, played Shithead (Leeds Rules) and built sandcastles with Roz and Rhys, took photos of primmy looking things for replication at a later date, ate BBQ, wandered up and down looking for shiny stuff etc. But no fuckin' surf.
Before we left for Wales, the good lady wife made me promise not to take my laptop or my PDA. "It's just 5 days" she said casually. "Prove to me you can do 5 days without SL or the internet for just 5 days". We took a DVD player with us instead, and I managed it, sure, but without my connection (and there's not even a god-damn phone line or mobile signal at the flat any more) I was bored out of skull.
Frankly, I'm glad to be back.