The Saudi Connection in Bristol

Perhaps the most positive thing that happened all year was, ironically, connected to Saudi Arabia. Completely out of the blue, the British guy in charge of the newly formed Saudi surf team invited Raf and I to join him and the entire Saudi team at Bristol’s Wave - an outdoor wave pool with pretty good waves - and onto Newquay for a surf competition. All our expenses were to be paid and I’d get a little extra for doing some social media reels. While I knew I couldn’t continue my nutritional therapy, I decided to accept the offer but only for Bristol (which meant only two nights away from the juicing and enema routine). 

On a sunny day in May, Raf and I boarded trains in Cromer and Norwich, crossed London, jumped onto a fast train to Bristol, before checking into a lovely hotel on the outskirts of the city. The Saudis arrived much later than us, so our first afternoon was alone in the mall, where Raf devoured a beef burger and I picked up a bargain beanie for £4 (never one to waste money, but this set a new level for thriftiness).

The following morning, we met the Saudi surf team, their British manager, and their Brazilian surf coach over a scrumptious breakfast - everyone was so nice! Food wise, I kept it vegetarian and tried to keep juice intake high, but it was still so strange eating “normal” food for a change. And I couldn’t quite stop thinking about all the pesticides and seed oils. Next stop was the Wave itself. The Saudis were beyond generous with the schedule - Raf had three surfs paid for (at 75 pounds a pop) and was allowed to rent whatever board he wanted. It was incredible watching him surf alongside his Saudi peers. Catching the wave looked a bit pressured to me, so I decided not to surf myself. Quite cold weather, too. The day ended with a sumptuous buffet at the Wave before heading back to the hotel for an early night. 

Our final day was quite a rush. Morning rain forced the British manager to cancel the skate park session. Instead, breakfast was a bit later than previously planned. With skating off and no media pass at the Wave, my drone stayed in its bag and my social media footage across both days was somewhat average. Anyway, we joined everyone at the Wave again, where Raf had his final session on the rights. We said our goodbyes over lunch and jumped into a taxi, who took us to the train station for the long return trip to Cromer. 

I can’t emphasise how much this trip meant to me personally. In the midst of total despair, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, a path would spring up one day leading me, or us, back to the desert. Insha’allah, we will meet these Saudi surfers again on a Saudi beach. Yes, that’s the hope - Saudi’s surf pioneers plying the waves of the Arabian Gulf one more time if God should will it.