DAY 3: The Day I drowned

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This morning, I was awoken by a knock in the door at 7 in the morning. I opened it to see Sam standing there. He had a car ready and literally forced me to have a quick bath and get into the car. I didn’t even know where we were going when he announced that he had heard that there is a good surfing school down in Bournemouth and he had booked a car for us to go there today. So, here we were, driving to Bournemouth at 8 in the morning along the National Express. I opened Triptromp and read all about Bournemouth Surf School Ltd., the place we were going. The road trip guide provided by Triptromp was really useful too. At about 11 am we reached our destination, situated on Bournemouth beach, 500m from Boscombe pier.
I was a first timer, never having tried surfing before. And here was Sam, a surfing champion. He took the Beginner Course as I didn’t knew surfing and we had the cool guides teaching us the surf techniques while concentrating on safety. A little later when we started practising, I had Sam riding the waves beside me and calling me over. I refused the first few times, trying to stay in safe waters but soon a desire grabbed me and out of nothing I tried to go upto to the waves. And of course, stupid that I was, I fell, sinking beneath the water with waves and water gushing through my mouth. It happened all of a sudden that I had inhaled quite a bit of water and though I knew swimming, I found myself incapable of doing so at that moment. At that moment though, Sam picked me up from the water and took me to the shore. It was really stupid to be surrounded by frantic trainers trying to judge I was okay or not. Thankfully though, I was up in my feet by ten minutes.
It was too much of surfing for the day to me. I roamed around the Bournemouth Beach surfing Trip tromp for other activities to do while Sam continued to practise surfing. I strolled around traditional Seaside piers and after an hour or two returned to eat something with Sam. After the lunch we explored Bournemouth and went to Russell-Cotes Art Gallery & Museum, where the treasures of paintings from around the world collected by the Russell-Cotes family were on display.
Evening 7, we started our journey back. As luck would have it though the car broke down in the middle of the road. There was absolutely nobody nearby. Sam was driving the car, and he called up the mechanics. We put the car on the side of the road, and got out, waiting for the mechanic to come. Meanwhile a stupid driver, driving ruthlessly down the road, scratched the car and dented its side while going past us. I got the fucking shit out of me when I saw that, and yelled hoarsely at the top of my voice for that car to stop but it didn’t. At last I got frustrated and was counting how much money I would have to probably pay for the damage, when Sam announced that he had the money to pay for it and I needn’t trouble with it. It was really strange then, here I was thinking of how each day some extraordinary thing happens when I travel with him and here I was feeling thankful to him that he would bear the entire burden himself. Anyways, thus the adventure ended for today, when the mechanic came and soon, by night 10, I was in my hotel room, ready to sleep.

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