Photography – Fiona Cullinan

100 sunrises and sunsets

One of the things I miss most about backpacking is watching the sunset every day.

Living in the city makes it hard to see a horizon. Good sunsets rarely align with a clear view point though, damn, have I tried to find them in hilly Birmingham.

Living in a latitude that varies the time of the sunrise/set by many hours over the year also adds planning, and only brings sunrise within easy reach in winter.

Living east of the Welsh mountains, in a temperate maritime climate, brings frequent grey skies and no guarantee of a clear day.

All problems for the sunset watcher but not insurmountable. As it turns out, all you have to do to see more sunsets is to decide to see more sunsets.

And so I added 'MOAR SUNRISES AND SUNSETS' onto my list of to dos last year, and started a WhatsApp group for 'Ladies of the Sunrise' – and here we are, 100 sunrises/sets later. Well, two sunrises and 98 sunsets because I'm not an early riser. And not exactly 98 sunsets because many of them are different timeframes of the same sunset. But let's not be picky, eh.

It's been lovely and uplifting reconnecting to such a basic daily rhythm. Which is really just hippie speak for the feel-good emotions of getting outdoors and taking notice of events that we take for granted every day. Big skies are beautiful and especially so when lit by the soft colours of the fading or rising sun.

I've learnt to spot a good sunset – it needs some cloud at various heights and it blazes better 20-20 mins after the sun dips below the horizon.

As for sunrise, I've only really had to get up early a handful of times for a quick swish of the curtains, and only once proper early, to see the dawn, which happens long before sunrise. There has also been a lot of full moon appreciation and star gazing to go alongside all of this. But celestial event watching is for another post.

For now, here is my selection of 100 golden-hour shots from Jan 2019-Jan 2020, taken on walks around Birmingham, Barmouth, Plymouth Sound, Aberdovey, Lizard and more. I've also slipped in a collaged sunset in there somewhere – blink and you'll miss it.

The hill I couldn't climb

The-hill-I-couldnt-climb

Every January 2nd, we go away somewhere with big skies for a few days – to have a think and read books and walk and look at sunsets and reconnect and make plans for the year ahead. It's a great way to start the year and offers a crisp restart after Christmas has gone stale, and the long weeks of winter still stretch ahead.

Mid-Wales is my first choice for this, Snowdonia being one of the few UK places where mountains meet the sea – and on the west coast, you can get a perfect sunset if the weather goes your way.

Another place I recommend is a National Trust property sitting on the northern slopes of Cadair Idris, Wales' second highest mountain. At 800ft above sea level, Cregennan Lakes offers a double whammy of great views – the Cadair Idris ridge and over the Mawddach Estuary to Barmouth.

On the northern side of these two fishing lakes is an abrupt hill called Pared y Cefn Hir, a child summit of Cadair Idris with a peak at 1257ft. It's the pointy peak on the left in the photo above.

From across the lake, on still days, it creates a neat triangular reflection in the lake.

But looks are deceiving – walk 90 degrees to the side, and suddenly it presents quite a different lumpier, bumpier, longer three-headed profile that can't be seen as you ascend.

It's just a hill though, and a couple of family groups seemed to be trotting up and down it. There was also a well marked path, an invitation.

I headed up as Pete headed down and around. It was aerobic. And there were slide-marked mud patches all along the wide path. Still, my boots were sturdy and it felt good to have the heart pumping on all four cylinders.

At the top of the first bluff, I looked down and took a photo of Pete, a tiny waving speck down in the spent heather and golden grasses. Zoom in and see if you can spot him.

He also took one of me, a waving silhouette far above.

The-hill-I-couldnt-climb

Behind me there was a deep near-vertical gully, which a couple were attempting to climb by wedging themselves in the gap. A dog walker in the car park told me to avoid this, and walk around and up: "It's a bit of a scramble but not too bad."

The wind starting blowing as I rounded the bluff and came out of its lee. That was also the point where the soil ran out and the path disappeared into the rocks. I stepped onto each stone carefully, well aware of the drop of a couple of hundred feet just a slip away.

Of course, once you start thinking like that, the confidence you need to goat-hop up the rocks disappears and the inner no voice goes into overdrive:

"You're on your own, what if you fall here, or even just twist your ankle? Is there any phone reception to call for help or does the mountain block the signal? Is the path just over that rock or have you lost the way and getting deeper into the shit with every step?"

I clung to the slope with both hands trying to reach for some inner mountain mojo and looking for a way forward.

The inner voice starts to get the upper hand.

"Most accidents happen on the way down, you know. And to older people like you. You'll be tired. You'll stumble or slip on loose gravel. Your knees will give way, the way they do, and over you'll go. You won't be able to see the path from above and you'll have to take a more dangerous route."

Reassuring now.

"Just turn around and go back to safety. The view at the top is the same only higher. Do it another day when there is someone with you. There's no shame in turning back. It's not a failure because it's not a competition. Better not to push a bad situation."

And so I turn around and retrace my steps back to the first of the three headers. I feel both relieved and disappointed in myself. My Welsh hillbagging challenge is over, curtailed either by wise decision-making over my abilities or by a lack of gumption to forge ahead anyway, it's hard to tell. Age is possibly a factor either way – although these limits are also a function of living in the city and a comfort zone.

The photo now feels slightly tainted. I captioned it 'The hill I couldn't climb'.

To anyone else, it shows a solo hill-climber on an adventure. To me, it is the moment just before defeat. Where I know I have reached my end point and can't continue on. It transports me vividly back to ancient forgotten defeats in the way that funerals resurface past griefs.

But what else is there to do after funerals and walking failures except carry on? There are other hills to climb. And if not, Snowdon has a train.

Oh and I made a kick-ass plan for 2020.

It's always good to end on a positive note.

Hire/commission me: fiona [at] fionacullinan.com

A walk underneath Spaghetti Junction

Birmingham's famous 1972 concrete megastructure – which criscrosses the M6 and various other slip roads and expressways – makes as much sense from below as it does from above. Probably less so once you add in the Tame River, a fishing lake, three canals, a train track and those swooping forests of pillars.

The underbelly of the Gravelly Hill Interchange is a daunting place to visit alone. There is the grave-like monument to PC Michael Swindells, who was stabbed and killed in 2004 on the Tame Valley Canal while in pursuit of a knife-wielding paranoid schizophrenic. On today's visit there were three or four semi-threatening dirtbikers using it as their playground. Sadly there was litter everywhere – next time, I'll bring a bag.

But it is also desolately beautiful in its own way, with birdlife, an ongoing Bill Drummond artwork, stark lines and angles and reflections, the monolithic grandeur of the concrete supports, and the relentless chunking of the stitched highways carrying 'flying cars' overhead like a preview of a future that never came to be.

This is my fourth or fifth time visiting. The low winter sun brought me out this time but Spag Junction is impressive on every visit – and differently moody .

These 25 photos are from today's winter walk with Photo School. Pete leads walks there every winter, spring, summer and autumn so you get the effect of the changing seasons. The spring walk is on 26 April 2020. Details here…

Click photos to view larger.

Hire/commission me: fiona [at] fionacullinan.com

2019 in colours

The flattened, non-video version of this year-long photo diary project.

Year-long photo project based on the colours of the rainbow

As humans we tend to look for patterns and perhaps see shapes in clouds or faces in objects. I'm definitely a human who likes to organise and categorise and edit.

Back in January I had that fresh, free, new year reset feeling and kind of went a bit mad on the New Year Resolutions. A lot of this list was about developing habits because a habit is less draining and more sustainable in the long run.

So one of the 'creative' goals was to run a little photo challenge. Each month I'd photograph things of a certain colour and then mash them into a little video diary using the 1SE phone app (1 Second Everyday).

The spectrum started with the seven basic rainbow colours, beginning with blue just because it was an unusually clear and sunny New Year break in Wales:

Jan – blue
Feb – indigo
March – violet
April – red
May – orange
June –yellow
July – green

After July, I started looking for white, black, silver/grey and other shades.

The seven shades of the rainbow turned out to be a blunt tool for colour and the project has since morphed into one featuring many, many, many more colour variations. The chronology has also had to be rewritten in favour of the colours blending and slowly shifting.

So here's my 2019 visual diary sorted into colour order, roughly: turquoise, cyan blue, sky blue, indigo, violet, pink, magenta, red, brown, gold, vermillion, orange, saffron, yellow, apple green, leaf green, grey, white, beige, silver and black. (Video below, or the flattened version is here.)

Some of my favourite things that happened in 2019 and are worth looking out for with some context are:

the other-worldly reflections of the Cregennan Lakes, south Snowdonia – a lovely kickoff to the year
investing in proper ballet shoes – spot the Birmingham Royal Ballet studio for a public workshop later in the year
a Christmas gift of Speedo swimming aids – these have made the pool a lot more fun
four collages including a rat singing 'I will always love you' at sunset – Birmingham Collage Collective has been a big thing this year
Pete building a Buckminster Fuller geodesic dome in the garden and introducing Bunminster Fuller the rabbit to his namesake (sort of)
many bunnies, sunrises, sunsets and four visits to the UK seaside.

Can I say I'm an artist who works with multimedia and autobiography now?

Hire/commission me: fiona [at] fionacullinan.com

Stirchley High Street Stories told through different lenses

Stirchley-High-Street-Stories-Fiona-Cullinan — Me and my dog – just one theme from Stirchley High Street photo stories

Stirchley High Street Stories was a community photography project which ran from March to June 2019. Last night it launched its popup exhibition and newspaper at Artefact in Stirchley. The gallery runs to Saturday, with a print run of 100 newspapers for visitors to view or take away.

The project

The project was organised by Ghost Streets CIC led by Tracey Thorne and funded by the National Lottery Community Fund. A group of volunteers met three times for photowalks along Stirchley high street, from Fordhouse Lane to Bournville Lane junction. We attended a workshop run by Photo School on how to tell stories with photographs. Then we each chose a theme or story to focus on.

Stirchley High Street Stories Newspaper, 2019 — Stirchley High Street Stories newspaper with back cover featuring Stirchley Shutters

First I collected colour in the form of Stirchley's shutters (which made a vertical grid on the back cover). But post-workshop I decided to get a different perspective and take a 'camera dog' for a walk down the high street – essentially a GoPro on a monopod.

I'm really pleased with the results. The wide angles and foot-high shooting position were perfect. I decided to process them in black and white because that's how we used to think dogs saw the world. Apparently they do have some colour vision and see the world as basically yellow, blue, and grey (no red or green).

Other themes from the rest of the team include: curry houses, Hunts Road junction, Browell's tobacconist, Stirchley swatches, shopfronts, things for sale, uncommon places, and fusions and tensions (with some lovely poetic captions from P-Bantz, aka Phil Banting).

A selection of photos is on Stirchleyhighstreet.tumblr.com and under the Instagram hashtag #stirchleyhighstreet. Here are some of my A Dog's Eye View photo stories, including new ones not in the newspaper.

Final thoughts on 'what next' after the scroll…

The photos

It's a boy's world at the barber's, Stirchley

Dog meets dog at the barber's, Stirchley

No escape from the Seven Capital hoardings.

Shadow lines on the demolished corner of Mary Vale Rd.

Stirchley Gorilla — Stirchley's Kong presides over all.

What next?

Hopefully there will be a followup from this. Stirchley is changing massively at the moment and already the high street looks different with the Wild Cat reopening and others due to follow. See:

With everything in flux and several wastelands awaiting development, it would be great to have an Issue 2 next year at the least.

Personally I'm hoping for more multimedia stories, using video and audio – to create a living record of the transition and the community that is creating that change. A 'Humans of Stirchley' piece maybe, to bring the high street to life for future generations.

Who wants to be videoed or photographed/interviewed so I can practise my storytelling/photojournalism?

Or I might start to take my interest in Stirchley in new direction. I've enjoyed getting back to photography and taking a more artistic approach to my local area.

Ideas are forming… get in touch?

Hire/commission me: fiona [at] fionacullinan.com

A purple haze of bluebells at Clent Hills

English bluebells

Just back from a five-mile guided walk around the Clent Hills to see large swathes of English bluebells – a darker, more delicate and aromatic flower than the invasive Spanish bluebell that has taken over my own back garden and which I pluck out, to no avail.

Adrian, our National Trust guide, told us that around half the world's bluebells are found in the UK – they grow well in our relatively cool spring climate, and are under threat from climate change. The warmth favours the Spanish bluebell, however: a wider leafed, sturdier, lighter plant, which is edging out the now protected native bluebell. Unfortunately, we found a small patch of Spanish bluebell on the trail, which is worrying. Hopefully Clent's volunteer conservationists can get right on it and root them out.

The three-hour guided walk was a test of stamina, down the hill from the National Trust's Nimmings Road café, up and over stiles, and into Uffmoor Wood for the first close-up view of a classic carpet of woodland bluebells.

We were instructed that bluebells can take years to recover well from footfall damage so we had to be careful where we walked and not trample them. It is also against the law to intentionally pick, uproot or destroy bluebells. Adrian told us some of the fairy lore around bluebells but perhaps that is more for the kids, or maybe a way to keep them off these delicate plants.

Sadly, two older ladies in the group had to turn back at this point as the stiles were difficult and the walk relatively pacey. Inclusion is hard but it was a wise move to turn back as I'm certain they really would have struggled on the terrain ahead if they'd continued.

Uffmoor Wood, Clent Bluebells

We emerged from the wood and turned back across Penorchard Meadows Nature Reserve where three horses were at pasture in one of the largest remaining areas of semi-natural grassland in Worcestershire. The white horse (auspicious for success and good luck allegedly) came over for a nuzzle. It was a lovely English pastoral scene. A little further on, wild garlic was growing down by the stream, fragrant and in full flower.

Wild garlic in flower

I learnt only recently that you can cook wild garlic – apparently it's particularly nice in a mushroom risotto and more mellow flavoured than traditional garlic. Both the leaves and flowers are edible but you have to be careful not to confuse it with poisonous Lily of the Valley, which is resembles before it flowers. Walk leader Adrian also suggested some recipes such as including it in a wild garlic pesto.

Next we came to the spring and church of St Kenelm, who was martyred on the site in the year 820. Said to be a place of healing, people had tied bits of cloth with name dedications to a sacred tree (well, a hawthorn but needs must) in the hope of a blessing. I haven't seen this done since finding one of the slopes of Glastonbury Tor in 1999. It feels like something that probably harks back hundreds or even thousands of years.

Tree near St Kenelm's Church

The long walk back up Walton Hill saw off a few more walkers suffering sore knees and tiredness; there was a shorter option back to base from there. The views to Birmingham and Brierley Hill were misty and grey but the sun was finally about to come out.

Walton Hill pano

There are bluebells in many areas across the Clent Hills, but the best was yet to come. As the path steepened into a climb up into the woodland on Walton Hill, I don't think I've ever taken such good shots of bluebell woods.

I'll also remember this section for one lady picking up discarded plastic bags containing dog poo. I remember so many 'pick up your litter' campaigns when I was growing up, maybe it's time for another national campaign to remind people? Even using a stick to flick the mess off the walking path would be better than leaving non-biodegradable plastic all along the trail.

This same lady was a long distance walker who had walked the whole 630 miles of the South West Coastal Path. She and another litter-picking chap gave me lots of advice about my own plans to do walk there later this year: build in breaks, alternate long and short walks, check the last bus times back, etc. The sociable aspect of these walks is a draw for many.

Clent bluebell walk

By the end, I had slowed to be the last walker in the line, the final push up the hill turning my legs to jelly.

Clent did have a final surprise in store, though: the unusual sight of bluebells growing out in the open. Usually they grow in cool shade but I think these patches of open hillside behind the Four Stones atop Clent had just had bracken removed. Bluebell colonies take five to seven years from seed to flower so this purple carpet may not survive in future – but they are here now, and look stunning.

Clent Hills bluebells

This was a lovely (if occasionally testing) walk with great views of the great English bluebell – also poetically known as Cuckoo’s Boots, Wood Hyacinth, Lady’s Nightcap and Witches’ Thimbles – and we enjoyed informative guiding at the bargain price of just £2.50.

Recently I've enrolled as a volunteer at Clent Hills to learn bushcraft skills and help at corporate team days (more on that in a future post), so it was good to be back on the hills.

The bluebells should be there for another week or two, maybe til mid-May, so get up there for some purple haze before everything fades to green once more.

There are two more guided bluebell walks at Clent on Saturday 4th and Wednesday 8th May (info/booking here). Bluebell info/National Trust: 6 things you might not know about bluebells

Stirchley seven years on

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes! Every few years I take a photographic snapshot of my local Stirchley High Street, Birmingham, to see how it has changed.

So here is Stirchley in 2018…

There is an empty space where the thriving gym and historic bowling alley used to be, demolished after Lidl supermarket pushed ahead with a presumptuous land purchase (they had their permission to build overturned). There is also a massive Tesco wasteland now boarding up a large percentage of north Stirchley. Let's hope Seven Capital can do better, eh? Watch them closely. They were due to show at the Neighbourhood Forum meeting this Monday but have dropped out. It doesn't bode well.

While the supermarkets and large developers try their frickin' best to flip (thanks Kimmy Schmidt) with Stirchley, the independent scene is thriving (more on this in Viva Stirchley). Loving the fact that a spooncarver, fudge shop, martial arts supply store and houseplant shop are newcomers this year, increasing the bloody superb random nature of our high street. No homogeneity here, in 2018 at least. Pretty much all our chain stores are caged inside the Coop or shoved up the, ahem, business end of Stirchley.

Sad to hear Drums International, The (vegan) Pie Shop and Moso vintage clothing have closed and/or moved on. Drums International was one of my favourite does-what-it-says-on-the-sign storefront. The Belgian and Netherlands consulate is also a very sad loss, for quirkiness and international tourism alone. And Hairport – I miss that one for its punnage, although Iron Maidens laundrette is still the winner. There are other casualties – check the 2011 photos at the end of this post.

All the hardcore old-school Stirchley businesses are still here: P Browell tobacconist, Phull Watch Co, Mirror Image, Oulsnam (they'll always be Laing to me), Stirchley Alterations & Dress Making, JJ's Flooring (which has added a rooftop King Kong as you do), Maginnis opticians, Printigo (now snuggling in the bosom of the main high street), OJ Fallons plumbing supplies, Noct Offs, Wards, the British Oak – to name a few. Domestiks is still here but now sells appliances not ex-catalogue clothes, so that's less useful (to me).

Alongside them and hoping for similar longevity are the hardcore 'newbies' creating most of the buzz: Loaf, Artefact, The Bike Foundry, Alicia's Micro Bakehouse, The Wildcat Tap and other local breweries (no longer is Stirchley just a balti Mecca).

I have to give a special mention for the lovely Stirchley Wines & Spirits. Just because. #injoke #keepstirchleyshabby

Also Stirchley Library and Baths – important sources of community spirit, as well as free knowledge and tasty chocolate brownies at the monthly market.

>> Stirchley in 2018

The previous album 'Stirchley Village' was taken in 2010 and 2011. Enjoy now in case I don't cough up for the forthcoming Flickrgeddon and my pictorial histories are deleted in a few months:

>> Stirchley in 2011

Best of Brum at Spring Fair 2018

I've attended various events at the Birmingham NEC over the years – for both journalistic and digital marketing purposes – but none so ginormous as 'the UK's largest home and gift show for the retail industry' held earlier this month.

In stats… Spring Fair 2018 featured 14 show sectors, 19 exhibition halls and 2,500 UK and international exhibitors. It's so big they added Autumn Fair a few years ago to help spread the load. Personally, I got a whole lot of exercise in – clocking up 18k in Fitbit steps – just by visiting those exhibitors based in or around Birmingham

I wanted to do a pick of the Brum-related products that may be appearing in a store (or zoo or Birmingham art gallery) near you in 2018, and to make a few local connections and contacts. Here it is – I have to say I love the randomness of the products and stories on offer…

1. Bloom and glow

Electric flowers won't be to everyone's taste but the Blossom Collection's products were surprisingly nice to look at. The company launched following a sourcing visit to China and has blossomed (!) ever since. If you have a black wall in your house (I have two), it's the perfect backdrop for glowing roses, tulips, orchids or Blossom's best-selling calla lilies.

2. Puns to make you cry over your chopped onions

I'm a little chilli but do nut worry… Why oh why can't I get a job writing food puns for chopping boards?

I was excited to meet Zodiac, a kitchen equipment company based in near to me in sunny Selly Oak, but a bit disappointed to find out that they are actually the UK arm of a Chinese company and not a local family business. But, hey, Cadbury's…

As a content marketer, I have to say Zodiac had one of the slickest sites of all the Spring Fair exhibitors I visited, with related recipe and other support content around the kitchenware, an up-to-date news section, a listening/feedback area and a busy CSR section.

Tasty marketing chops.

3. An elephant memento never forgets

"It started with an elephant," Kiran Chohan of Wildtouch says of his business handcrafting souvenirs, gifts, jewellery and other accessories for zoos, aquariums and other heritage sites around the UK.

The original elephant went to Twycross zoo and the company has since grown into a niche business supplying zoos and other leisure attractions with animal souvenirs from meerkats to monkeys, clown fish to killer whales.

Kiran also has his own range of jewellery and the firm is based in Birmingham's famous Jewellery Quarter.

4. Hanging tin

Jo Willis co-started Red Hot Lemon in 2014 after working as a sales manager at a metal sign firm that closed. She says the array of licensed metal signs attracts the rare male buyer demographic with the VW Campervan one of their bestsellers. They have also expanded into selling a range of other tin products with that ever-popular retro-vintage feel.

5. Made in Sunderland (for Brummies)

My World may be based in Sunderland but Brum is their biggest client with a range of regional cards, prints, mugs and fridge magnets sold in BMAG, the Town Hall and the Library of Birmingham. Pretty surprised Brummies didn't corner this market, though, especially since Created In Birmingham shop surfaced a lot of local artists a few years back. But it's all fine and the Birmingham skyline print is a winner.

6. Cactus drinks jar for your mojito?

MD of KitchenCraft Matthew Canwell explained how the design and development (alas not the manufacture) of more than 4,000 kitchen and homewares products is done in Birmingham.

The company has been in Brum for 168 years and was founded by a local man named Thomas Plant on Edgbaston Street. The name only changed from Thomas Plant to Kitchen Craft in 1996 and the company has since grown to become part of Lifetime Brands inc, a global kitchenware provider supplying leading department stores and 80 countries worldwide. Another slick website – kitchenware is the place to be for content marketing.

7. 'Winter is coming' – fill your goblets!

AE Williams is possibly most famous for supplying its pewterware goblets to Game of Thrones but, says Stephen Johnson, a partner in the firm, there just isn't room to show them at Spring Fair. In the absence of a GoT goblet, this whisky decanter stood proudly as king of all the Digbeth-based manufacturer's exhibits

8. A subtle celebration of your memories

Charlotte Lowe graduated in 2009 and this is her seventh year at Spring Fair, showing jewellery made in her workshop in Birmingham’s Jewellery Quarter. I like the way she encapsulates personal memories (pets, children, simple moments, photos) into items of bespoke jewellery that are obviously personal to the individual but not at all sentimental in their design.

9. A perfectly potty invention

I liked Pot Pal because it represents the dream of being an inventor – and bringing a product to market. Pot Pal is a vertical plant holder that evokes narrowboat paraphernalia with its colours and design. It was invented by Brett Cattlin, who started out making pet products in wood. Recently he partnered with Firstpress (Plastic Moulders) Limited of Ladywood, Birmingham to design, manufacture and distribute 'Pot Pal' products in a lighter, more cost-efficient plastic. The product has only been out since January ready to catch some spring/summer buying.

10. 'Mini me' tweeds

The husband and wife team behind Chand Textiles were lovely and we chatted for ages about everything from Tamil Nadu to digital photography. Based in Highgate, they were showing their range of tweed jackets, gilets and peaked caps for children that are perfect for a country set 'mini me'.

11. A fluffle of bunny goods

Kate Sproston from Nuneaton – that counts as greater Birmingham, right? – drew me in with her range of rabbit-embroidered goods, including a Rabbit Egg Cosy shortlisted for Gift of the Year 2018. Kate also has a number of equally lovely collections that aren't about rabbits but the law of small animal owners is that all talk must revert to pets so I introduced her to Profession Bunminster Fuller, Clementine Bundango and Joy (yes, we our pets have a website) and in turn she told me about their guinea pigs Frankie Valli and Alan Turing (from Hutch 6). Top punnage there.

12. See this cat? He's a bestseller

Wolverhampton-based Dean Morris has the honour of being regularly demonised by the tabloids for his low-brow comedy cards (cries of irony!) but 'smut, filth and swearing' just sells so very well to the great British public (as any tabloid fule kno). Dean has been keeping it rude since 1999 and was the first to offer 'Keep calm and carry on…' cards. This one took me back to my days working for Moonpig just as they launched in 2000. Cards are a competitive business so fair play to Dean for his success.

Fiona Cullinan works as a digital content producer, editor and copywriter mostly for B2B clients. For further information, please visit The Subs Desk.

Birthday surf and bodyboard in Europe's Hawaii

It's true, a few Atlantic Islands claim to be Europe's Hawaii but Fuerteventura does lay a good claim to it as the north shore has massive waves and really does catch that laidback surfie vibe.

This was the whole reason I wanted to go to FV for my 50th – to bodyboard some waves. But I have to say I was pretty nervous, even though we were going out with a local surf school. The winds had been up for days and only a few brave souls were in the water.

Protest Surf School took us to Piedra Playa, south of El Cotillo – a well-known surf spot with long wild beaches and big fat Atlantic waves. We pulled up on the hill above the beach a few times before the boss settled on an area where we wouldn't get too mashed.

I did try surfing a few times – but I really can't do that Point Break 'pop' up on to the board. Never have been able to. Even when they showed me the sneak's way to stand up (all fours first), I was just too tired to stay up. So I reverted to Plan A, which was to get my bodyboarding on, thanks to previous training at Bodyboard camp.

Despite the rips and strong undertow parallel to the beach, I caught a few high-speed rides in on powerful white waves (the green ones were way too far out). Two hours of 'woo' and I felt fantastic. Swimming twice a week for the past eight months has really helped my fitness, even if my upper arms have a way to go yet.

It was fab to be in the surf in February in the sunshine, with Atlantic rollers rising up and breaking in the distance and regular ridable sets coming in. The last time I did this was Brexit Referendum result day – and like then, the overall physical commitment of surfing was enough to completely empty my mind of anxiety and bad stuff. I guess this is why surfing is such a spiritual sport.

I was a bit jealous of the surfers but I reckon I caught way more rides. Here's one of them (pics by Pete Ashton). Hey surfer, no dropping in on my ride!

Awesome!

Hire/commission me: fiona [at] fionacullinan.com