Day 2 was D-Day at ze French CT. The D is for Disappointment. Pained faces sucking up 33rd places. Mummies brave little soldiers need to keep their chins up as they embark on a long ten days of soul searching before the next leg kicks off in Spain. The Dream Tour ain't all good times and easily obtained blow jobs; especially if you're a tail-end Charlie languishing below the cut. Ten days of ennui in a small French town that's shutting up shop for the winter ain’t fun. Even the main diversions of the bowling alley, ogling unobtainable waitresses and cheap red won’t heal the pain. Not looking like going for a surf is going to be much of an option either…
The weather on day-2 matched the stormy faces as they left the beach- grey, a little bit angry and no imminent sign of sunshine. The waves were like an awkward teenager- signs of promise of what could be but in the main sullen, uncooperative and to push a metaphor to breaking point-rippy. And it only got worse. The dropping tide kicked a river like current into action that would humble most ironmen. The high to mid tide left bank has great shape, as the few big hits today attest, but when’s it junked up onshore and fugly it has only a face a mother could love.
Unlike the pointless warm up Rd1 day today meant something. It meant 33rd oblivion for Drew Courtney, Davey Weare, Jihad, Flores, Nat Curran, Miky Picon, Kekoa, Dayyan and last year’s victor Ace Buchan. How they fill the void between now and Mundaka is anyone’s guess.
Spirits aren’t that high here. The forecast is not hot. The long range shows nothing over a metre for the foreseeable. The world’s best are ready to assault round-3 and all around there are whispers of rebel tours, disinterest from the public in pro surfing and no glorious waves to save the day. Not to mention every single surf photographer wondering where the next cheques coming from as the arse has dropped right out of the trade. But it’s not all doom and gloom- today was onshore and meh but there was still a decent crowd, considering there was no Kelly (and my goodness to the French punters love Kelly) so that’s cool- they obviously get on with life here rather than hanging around internet chat rooms gleefully sounding the death knell for the tour.
In amongst the woeful looking surf there was some good solid surfing- see Greg Emslie, Kai Otton and Tiago for proof. I got a half a day off due to the early finish and I found pleasure in the small things today like watching three French dogs piss on Kai Otton’s back up shooter. They obviously disagreed with his choice of concave, either that or they prefer men with more manageable hair. Aside from that it wasn’t the most eventful of days. Some heats, some people knocked out and a rather nice beef/veggie stir fry thing for lunch from the contest cooks. What’s also impressive is I’ve managed 2-days of the event without whinging (as Pom’s are genetically programmed to do) as I’ve managed to get food, have my fill of runny tarmac coffee and crib wifi without a hitch. I sense a coffee machine malfunction is imminent- everything’s going far too smoothly. Tomorrow will hopefully see a return to good conditions cos at the moment the French event is heading into the ‘oh no, not France’ territory it held in the late 90’s when events failed to finish due to poop surf. It has been soooo good in past years (see 2004/5 and many others) with the contest decided in thumping barrels. This year and last year would be an embarrassment to a 3*QS; but then again even Pipe and Chopes have their bum years. I’m just a bit worried the Euro leg has got gangrene… best hope the Atlantic Ocean sorts its life out and starts grinding.
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