Waking up pretty ordinary, a surf at Playa El Estero was on the cards. Raf had dumped about 6 red Berocca’s into a litre bottle of water which was perfect for my headspace. I went off to grab some boardies, and came back with a craving for Berocca. The bottle seemed to have been moved to next to a water cooler so I took hold and had another massive drink. Shock fucking horror. Turned out to be a different water bottle filled with a red cleaning agent - too late for me I’d swallowed it all. Feeling dazed I drank a heap of water to try dilute it, but felt okay to walk to the surf. 15 minutes though the walk with Dan, Ricky and Jimmy, I started loosing my shit, violent throw ups, spinning head... Thought I was going to die, I was pretty cut. Nearly at El Estero, we looked behind and Ricky was having hypo, ready to kiel over to - needing sugar bigtime! We made it to Surfpoint Surf Camp, where French owner Yann rounded up oranges and water for us dead men walking. After a bit of rest, we got our bundles together and got out for waves. Stoked on the coolest French guy ever, and the awesome set up of the surf camp, we came back and sorted enough room for 11 of us to stay for 5 days.
Surfed a sweet session at La Punta (Catalina Point) about 4ft in the arv, then back to Surfpoint for a family dinner - guests included Tony Montana the 8kg Red Emperor and another 121 beers.
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