SURF NEW TURF IN SUNNY SAN DIEGO

The high Californian sun dazzled as I lay prostrate on my surfboard, shakily trying to stay afloat while around me clusters of tousled haired surfers sat up with nonchalant ease.

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Nearby, a seal popped its happy head out of the water. Like everybody else, it gave me a curious stare. This was where the real surfers rode, not for complete novices like me.

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Still, we all looked out to hazy horizon where the blues of sky and sea met, waiting for the next big wave. After a few false hopes, a crest rose out of the rolling Pacific.

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Everyone scrambled to action. I laboured to turn, then paddled haplessly hard. As the lip of the wave caught the back of my board, I pushed myself up as instructed. Now I just had to spring to my feet.

I sprang. I wiped out.

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As I eventually resurfaced, sputtering seawater, I saw the seal and the surfers lithely gliding to shore. What was I thinking trying to mix with the natives?