Could you tell me about a time when you started again?

The world is a very different place post-outbreak. Social distancing, sanitisation, and isolation are prominent in ways we could never have planned. The way we interact, and the things we do on a regular basis might have changed in ways that might become permanent. We have all lost something from this pandemic. Loved ones, health, money, time. But while we can’t control what happens to us, we can control our reaction to what happens - and in doing so, we build our character. My story is no different. After living in Los Angeles, Lombok & Zermatt for over a decade, the virus brought me home to British shores. Although I have a British passport, I’ve been away for so long that coming home felt like a daunting task.

I’m originally from the Lake District, but when I returned home, I moved to North Devon for a new job. After finding a place to live and settling into work, my biggest challenge was learning to survive the cold, dark days in isolation. I didn’t want my once sunny and vibrant life to turn cold and stale with the weather. Where I once had a filled social calendar, I now had isolation. Where I once spent time at the beach or on the slopes, I had British green pastures and rain. I was determined to bring a sense of worth to my new life in Devon. Previously, I had learned to surf in Indonesia, and knew there were some beach breaks nearby, so I set out to find some surf buddies. On social media, I found the Saunton Surf Sisters, a local women’s surf group, and decided to join their first event.

I drove down the windy road towards Saunton beach, and parked near the sand dunes, before nervously dressing myself in a neoprene wetsuit for the first time. Compared to paddling out in my bikini in Indonesia, there was a lot more pre-surf admin involved than I was used to. I carried my 7ft Bic surfboard down the slipway to our meeting place and was greeted by several friendly young women around my age. I was immediately welcomed into the group and we quickly began chatting - about the weather, about our surfboards, about the fun things to do in Devon - as if we had been friends for a long time. We all made our way towards the sea as a big group, and I realised that my nerves had subsided, and in their place were bursts of excitement to try something new. I was proud of myself for putting myself out there, for making an effort to make the most of the cards I had been dealt.

With one foot in front of the other, we waded towards where the waves were breaking. The ice cold water splashed on my face as I looked towards the horizon and saw Lundy island. I remembered how much I loved to be in the sea last time I surfed. I remembered my friend Chenk shouting “look up!” As I learned to turn my board into breaking waves and ride back towards the beach. Sometimes when we learn to surf we focus too much on what we’re doing to take in what’s around us. Its only when we look up that we can successfully ride the wave and direct the board where we need to go. It’s only when we live in the moment that we can appreciate the gift of each moment.

The surf that day was small but fun. A perfect day to regain my confidence on the board and in myself that there is no harm in starting again. On a particularly powerful wave, I paddled to ambitiously catch it, missed and plunged below the surface, being carried underneath the wave’s power like a sock in a washing-machine. After what felt like a lifetime, I managed to come back up for air and felt a rush of gratitude for being able to breathe again.

From then on, I began filling my free time with wakeboarding, rock climbing, hiking, surfing and yoga. In Devon, I have made some of the raddest friends I’ve ever had. Joining the Saunton Surf Sisters gave me that opportunity to start again.