The Easter long weekend was only a month ago but I already feel like I need another holiday. So in the interests of reliving my short break I’m writing about how I spent that wonderful time away from work.
I had intended to go on a Van Jaunt but with the Easter break being such a popular time for camping holidays many of the coastal parks were fully booked or ridiculously expensive. So instead of going on holidays we holidayed at home and I made it to a local event that I had heard so much about but had never been to before. Every morning we got up bright and early and drove down to the coast to watch the Rip Curl Pro at Bells Beach.
Well I’m lying just a little bit. On our first day we were a little unprepared and arrived at about lunch time. The tide was already encroaching on what little sandy beach space there is at Bells and we got stuck in the crowd the formed near the entrance to the beach. We used the time however to scope out the beach and by Easter Saturday we had our Rip Curl Pro strategy down pat. We packed ourselves snacks, filled up the thermos with hot Milo and trekked down the beach carrying camp chairs from the Winkipop stairs until we found a spot up the back, right against the roped off cliffs. And there we stayed watching the world’s best surfers take on Mother Nature until high tide moved us on.
So what made us go back, morning after morning?
Well, for starters there are worse things to do with your long weekend than spend the days sitting on a beach.
Another drawcard of the Rip curl Pro is that for a major sporting event spectators get incredibly close to the action. When the surfers were catching waves in ‘the Bells’ bowl’ they would finish their ride literally on the shore, only metres from spectators sitting on the beach. They also need to walk through the crowd both before and after their heats. Watching kids chase their heroes down the beach to get a much prized autograph was all part of the atmosphere.
But most importantly there was a big swell and an offshore wind which meant great surfing.
Unfortunately the tides meant that each day our sandy viewing spot was washed out by the early afternoon. We would amuse ourselves by watching the people sitting in front of us get wet by an errant wave but eventually the water would start lapping dangerously close to our spot and we’d be force to give up.
So we’d trek back up to the makeshift car park in a paddock at the top of the cliffs and head to Torquay to check out the surf wear outlets for bargains.
Then we’d get up the next morning and do it all again. I don’t need to go away to have a great holiday.