I always think I should have been born in California. It suits me just perfect. I can imagine spending the rest of my life in flip flops. I could do exciting bikini shopping rather than dull shopping for umbrellas. I love frozen yogurt. I drink diet Coke and the flavor does not bother me. And everyone’s got a six pack in California… right, maybe not everyone.
Californians seem to like stand up paddle. So we have another thing in common! I started learning it this summer in some properly hard core conditions. On a Liverpool Mersey Canal, a place so greasy from ship oil that you have to dip yourself in a bathtub for an hour after each session and in a place so wet and rainy, that a few minutes of paddling in a rain you don’t even mind having a swim in a cold water. It does not make any difference anyway. Plus you have to wear a thick sweaty wet-suit! Grrrrrrr.
So quite naturally the next step was to go and try out some warm sea. California is a bit far for a week’s trip so the natural next option is Spain. So decided to rent out some stand up paddle in Spanish Denia, just next door from Valencia. My hubby considers himself as a land animal so after a few minutes of wobbly paddling he retrieved to the nearest sun-lounge.