Saturday - Come fly with me
The event of the holiday - my kite-boarding lesson. This is when you get a kite that is rather more NASA than Mary Poppins and a skate-board on steroids and use the wind to pull you at high speed along the beach, scattering dogs, sunbathers and caution.
That's the theory. It's application takes skill and wind and I had neither.
In all honesty, my instructor told me I had a natural skill at screaming like a girl when things did get a bit exciting. We did get a puff of wind and, as I was holding on to a six-metre wing of space-age fabric that is designed to fly in just about any conditions, the next thing i knew I was digging in my heels and trying to control what felt like two shire-horses pulling in different directions. A life in the office punctuated by the odd visit to a chi-chi gym does not prepare you for this kind of activity, which is possibly why it felt as if my spine was being pulled out of my throat. Luckily, i managed to crash the kite before I had done too much harm, but not before leaving two six-foot ruts in the sand where my heels had dug in and a trail of wet sand where my bladder control had given up.
As for the board itself - for something so technically sophisticated it's quite impressive that it doesn't have a break, a steering wheel or any kind of safety feature. It's basically a plank and four wheels, so why it's so sodding heavy I have no idea. My instructor made me hop the bloody thing twenty yards down the beach (sweating), then hop back again (sweating and black spots) then hop round in a circle (sweating, blac.... ...oh, passed out for a moment there).
Two hours later I was a physical wreck. Bearing in mind I had not actually been on the board with the kite up, this does not bode well for the future. Because there will be one - kite boarding is gin and crack-cocaine on a waltzer! Next lesson soon!
That's the theory. It's application takes skill and wind and I had neither.
In all honesty, my instructor told me I had a natural skill at screaming like a girl when things did get a bit exciting. We did get a puff of wind and, as I was holding on to a six-metre wing of space-age fabric that is designed to fly in just about any conditions, the next thing i knew I was digging in my heels and trying to control what felt like two shire-horses pulling in different directions. A life in the office punctuated by the odd visit to a chi-chi gym does not prepare you for this kind of activity, which is possibly why it felt as if my spine was being pulled out of my throat. Luckily, i managed to crash the kite before I had done too much harm, but not before leaving two six-foot ruts in the sand where my heels had dug in and a trail of wet sand where my bladder control had given up.
As for the board itself - for something so technically sophisticated it's quite impressive that it doesn't have a break, a steering wheel or any kind of safety feature. It's basically a plank and four wheels, so why it's so sodding heavy I have no idea. My instructor made me hop the bloody thing twenty yards down the beach (sweating), then hop back again (sweating and black spots) then hop round in a circle (sweating, blac.... ...oh, passed out for a moment there).
Two hours later I was a physical wreck. Bearing in mind I had not actually been on the board with the kite up, this does not bode well for the future. Because there will be one - kite boarding is gin and crack-cocaine on a waltzer! Next lesson soon!
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