EUROTHRASH VOL II
Photos by the beautiful man that is Tom Carey
We’re fried. Cooked. Toasted. Cocinado. Late nights and early mornings have ended us. Noa and Ryan and young filmer Yentl went to the moon and somehow back last night and are now back at it at a bar around the corner while I’m writing this at home with shaky hands, matted hair, red eyes and lingering 4 day hangover. Trying to recap and vaguely string a sentence together.
It’s been weird. Although weirdly productive.
Fuelled by super bock at every stage we’ve been getting it done. We’ve struck gold. Threw all the cards on the table to the powers that be in Central Portugal and they rolled us the dice we wanted.
Highlighted by a pretty all time session at Cave. Led by Noa who saw one come through from the other side of the bay and with a fire in his torched eyes managed to get all 15 of us over there in less then 5 minutes
Noa paddled straight out, got a crazy one, fell on one, broke a board and then paddled straight back out. Gony quietly claimed his wave at Cave as the best wave he’s ever had in Europe. Which when you think about how much of Europe he’s surfed is pretty fucked up.
We’ve had good ones at Coxos. We’ve had the funnest of beachies. Ryan has ruled some at Crazy left. Willy’s backhand rotors are mythical and Alexs’s twin fin steez are sublime to the eyes.
Courtesy Alex Bothelo and Gony’s recommendations we've eaten at the most insane joints. We’ve been asked to leave the same joints by over celebrating team photogs Tom Carey’s birthday every night. Cumulating in food fights and blood feuds. Then some have gone out into the nights and drank numerous whisky sours in less then reputable establishments. Then somehow we’ve got up in the morning and done it all again.
In Nazare we were blown away by how huge Garret MacNamara was there. He's the unoffical mayor. Or even the official mayor. We didn’t score and went to a restaurant and the Wifi code was “MacNamara” We drank beers and ate fish and then bumped into Garret MacNamara wearing a Mercedes T-shirt in the same restaurant. You genuinely couldn't script this. I think we might of completed Portugal.
The production crew have been in the background, not so quietly drinking beers at all hours but with a quiet efficiency that’s actually amazing to witness. We’ve become a well oiled machine, instead of a rolling shit show.
Tomorrow we go to France, via Salamanca and then to San Sebastian and then eventually Paris which fuck knows how that will turn up but we’ll be there. And we’ll see you for that beer in Le Marais at the end of all of this.
Presented by Volcom