Once a year, early enough in the term so that essay guilt is minimal, an alarmingly large group of Warwick Surf members, current and past, descend on the little town of Newquay for a weekend of pints, pasties and Spoons breakfasts.
It’s taken me a week to regain the mental capacity needed to relate the weekend’s debauchery. Even then, not much would be sufficient to describe the best weekend I’ve had in a long time; so, instead, here are a few notable observations from over the three days.
Old Rosie’s. Kaf and I thought that at £5 for 2l, we couldn’t go wrong. How wrong we were, and how wrong it all went. I thought the worst hangover we’d endured was one in Queenstown, where we didn’t speak to one another until 5pm. The Old Rosie’s aftermath was arguably worse.
The Spoons Bible. The best-kept secret of student living. During freshers, Spoons give away books of vouchers which cover everything from £1.50 GF beers to £4 burgers and pints. Just when I thought I couldn’t love Spoons any more, I found this new, deeper level of affection.
Spoons don’t understand gluten-free. At least not in Newquay. I ordered a GF breakfast – essentially a traditional fry-up with half of it missing. I received a literal plate of BREAD (and nothing else)… it turns out that, ‘the chef didn’t know what GF breakfast meant.’ Good.
Gloucester Services. A haven of wanky farmer food and deli counters. I couldn’t afford a thing, and yet still left feeling deeply satisfied with the whole experience.
The weekend is a lot of fun. Whether you surf or not (probably not), you still get to admire the concentration of beautiful and talented people hanging at Fistral Beach (or Walkabout). I got to see people I hadn’t in years, as well as my beloved old housemates. On Sunday, someone asked how my ‘last BUCS’ was – next year I’ll be one of the Old Boys. Now, back at uni, the steady stream of careers emails and conversations starting, ‘so, are you applying for jobs?’ has made me wish I had just one more weekend by the beach… Until next year, Newquay!