That day was one of the best in my life (which isn’t saying much, but hey) anyway, it started off like this…
It was hot and steamy in Newquay that year, I can still picture the seagulls quarrelling over litter, and my glasses steaming up every time I wiped them clean. Pip’s van was parked in its usual spot next to the sand and he could hardly sell his ice creams fast enough, handing them out by the dozen. It was around ten o’ clock in the morning when I decided to take a nap.
When I had caught my forty winks, there was only a short queue so I decided to buy an ice cream before I went home. At just that moment, Pip exclaimed, “Really sorry folks but I need to do something right now” and with that, he stripped down his outer layers to reveal a woollen new swimming cozzie. He strolled down to the beach and picked up a trolley that I couldn’t see what was on. I gingerly stepped onto the beach, the sand was boiling hot but I managed to get over to where Pip had been but he was already stomping up to the infinite blue with his strange trolley. I followed in his sandy footsteps until I saw him take a massive something or other off the trailer and place it in the water! I ran towards him but it was too late. He got on the thing like it was one of the coffin lids I had, then he paddled out and I never saw him again. Except for the part where I did. I was panicking; he had been out too long. Was he mad? And just as I was about to call a peeler, he popped up on the top of a wave, hands outstretched, laughing like a maniac and he surfed down the wave like a God.
A moment of serenity, I knew that I wanted to do that, I knew that was definitely a sport for me. I smiled, then laughed, and then… Pip fell off into the water and I panicked again.