It was time to drag our buggy gear on the road again. Les Hemmes had been enjoying low tide for half a week already, so the beach would be as perfect as it gets. Also the forecast promised rather nice winds. Needless to say, we were both excited to get going.
We reached France on Friday night and found the camping bursting from its seams. There were Germans there, filling the campsite from corner to corner. These long coefs collect a lot more people to the beach compared to shorter ones. A lot of Brits and Germans had been enjoying the cruising for already two days, and the camping was silently snoring as we were putting the tent up.
There was another Belgian arriving after us with his son, so we sat around for a moment talking about things you talk about, when you are expecting to have fun. It happened also be the night when our dear Earth was flying through the cloud of Perseids. Since it was about the right time to see the shooting stars, we decided to get to the beach. We drove our noble steed on the parking at the dune, opened the roof and stared up to the sky. Weirdly enough, we found ourselves in the middle of a very romantic moment. Just sitting there the two of us, looking at the black sky, spotting a shooting star every once in a while. We went to sleep with smiles on our faces.
We were so very slow on Saturday. We hunted down breakfast and moved to a new camping before putting the buggies together. The new camping is great! Loads of space and privacy and peace, as well as shadow to tuck your tent in, so we won’t be boiling inside it every morning.
Finally in the afternoon we had our buggies built and we were rolling them to the beach. We were met with a nice stable wind from the west and a large, smooth and dry beach. Just about perfect for driving. My fingers were tingling while Waffle was spreading out a few of the sails.
I decided to take it easy for starters. We had been missing the beach a lot this year and I wasn’t feeling too confident. So bit of ground work was needed for me, before hopping in and driving. I finally managed to put a thought into it, thinking about the wind direction and everything. Was kind of proud of it, as I finally swooshed on my way towards the sea.
I turned back, without even loosing any speed and rode back to the dunes. That is where I got really confused. I had some speed when I started to think about turning back, but at the same time I was looking at Waffle and another buggier and a bunch of people. And lost all direction. I figured I had no room to go up wind to slow down, so I tried… something, ended up directing my kite to the left and buggy to the right. That didn’t work out too good. I crashed the kite, broke one of the lines with a snap and took a hit to my right arm.
That hurt a little, so I stood aside for the rest of the day. Looking Waffle and others having fun. Even Waffle was being a little bit more careful, taking a smaller kite than usual. The new buggy still isn’t feeling quite perfect and so forth.
The evening came and so did the beers and camp fires. We sat around with friends, old and new. Talking about the day, kilometers and speeds and what not, until enough beer had been shoveled down and the discussions took a turn to more silly stuff. The buggiers, they all seem to have certain madness in them. It is a hippie lifestyle we life down at the beach.
In the morning my hand was still in pain, worse than the day before. So we went to find a hospital back in Belgium. There I was directed to have x-rays taken and then we waited. We waited for quite some time. Finally a nurse called us into a room and someone pushed in a plastering kit. Shortly after came a doctor with a computer and my pictures. There was a nice dark line crossing one of the small wrist bones in my right hand. They gave me 8 – 14 weeks of immobilization. Fuckety. My buggy season is over.
It was a mix of disbelief, disappointment and anger as we returned with my plaster to France. I was demanding Waffle to drive still but he didn’t want to. Silly thing thought that I would somehow suffer from him being out there having fun without me. As we returned we heard that I was not the only one to have crashed and broken things. One guy had his shoulder popped out and someone had also flown out of their buggy. Quite a weekend it seemed to have been.
It was a national holiday again on Monday, so we stayed put for one night. The evenings around the fire are efficient at keeping us there. Monday morning Waffle started to take our camp apart as I was feeling useless (writing this is also a bit of a struggle). We would be leaving France with only a few minutes of driving on the beach behind us.
As we strolled to the sea to say a proper goodbye we got to notice, that the bad luck of this coef hadn’t yet ran dry. All of a sudden we saw someone being dragged out and staying lifeless on the ground. Waffle had recognized the kite and we started running. As we arrived to the spot, there were other people already attending to the injured, who turned out to be our friend Gaetan. He had had a hefty concussion and didn’t quite know what was happening, he kept forgetting stuff constantly. Poor guy insisted on getting his buggy back and asked us to let him drive again. We didn’t. His buggy session was over too, for now.
Well, I think I learned that perfect conditions do not always mean a good buggy session. Things can happen, it is called an extreme sport after all. What is great to see, is that when bad things happen on the beach, everybody helps each other out, no matter the nationality or language barriers. It is a great group of people to have around you.
Now I am left to hope, that I can get this plaster off of my hand soon and be back in the game, Les Hemmes see you next time!