So, summer 1995 found us heading to Croyde Bay every other weekend and renting huge pop-out mini mals to ride the rampant waves. A bit too rampant as it turned out but we all managed to catch a wave or two, stand up for more than a few seconds and enjoyed telling multitudes of tall tales in the Beach Bar, fuelled by Jamaicas finest Red Stripe. Happy daze.
Fast forward nineteen years and we're off to Croyde on holiday. The campsite we used is now a respectable family site and the Beach bar is closed, now selling holiday rubbish, but Croyde is still as nice as it ever was. And now I have no pretentions of being a surfer, prefering the much easier option - bodyboarding.
And of course
Croyde Bay from the tea shop near Baggy Point on a blustery day:-
Its been a great week really. Lots of bodyboarding, reasonable weather (but it doesn't really make much difference when you're in the water) and a nice cottage round the corner from the Thatch. Ideal.