Finding SUP utopia on an Active Break at St Michael’s Resort in England
Tom Sylge Jones reviews a fun and challenging stand-up paddleboarding break led by Brendon Prince at a coastal hotel in Falmouth, Cornwall and finds new paddle mates, reassuring advice and how to extend his boundaries
Expert leader of the paddle boarding break, Brendon Prince.
Whatever the project, that moment typically kicks in somewhere around the halfway stage. That moment where conflicting objectives and approaches have me in fight or flight mode: dig in, work hard and longer into the nights; or quit and leave them to it.
I’ve decided to take a different approach: stop trying so hard, take a break and return with a fresh perspective; and I find myself booking in for a paddle boarding weekend at St Michael’s Resort Active Breaks in Falmouth in Cornwall.
“We find ourselves serendipitously switching ‘paddle mate’, exploring the trivial and the deep thoughts of our fellow adventurers. This is the greatest element of the weekend for me - being on the water is such a meditative experience, for you must be in the moment, focused on what you are doing. On calm days you might contemplate science or art, singing like no-one is listening”
I arrive on a bright afternoon and find my fellow paddlers in the ‘locker room’. In this studious corner we settle into comfy leather seats - a peaceful and homely base for initial introductions. We politely acquaint ourselves. Our host and guide Brendon Prince enters and we share aspirations for the next three days. Brendon explains his flexible approach - we will take our lead from the desires and energy of the group, and the possibilities the weather offers us; we will look out for each other; we will learn from each other and enjoy the experience.
We discuss tides, currents, rips and winds - how each can change suddenly and dramatically. As a reasonably experienced surfer, I need no convincing, but it is reassuring that Brendon is so well drilled and persistent at reminding everyone that knowledge, fear and respect of the dangers of our coastal waters is the only route to safe, exhilarating enjoyment.
I’m looking to lose some bad habits and learn some new techniques to enhance my experience of paddle boarding - build courage to, literally, venture round the corner of what I perceive are my current physical boundaries.
We reconvene at Gyllys beach and are introduced to a 5m long megaSUP. Climbing, one by one, aboard we realise that our ability to balance individually and collectively is all that separates us from a cold plunge in the bay and a frustrating journey.
Returning to base, I enjoy a sauna and a sea-air induced powernap in cool, clean white sheets. I could happily sleep on, but we’re booked in for a feed - and this is one of the downsides of an organised adventure of this nature, there is no option other than to eat at what I consider to be a late 8pm.
There is good company to be enjoyed, however, and I am pleased to find that the food, as I expect in the southwest, is of good provenance. Each night I find the meat dishes – I typically have pork or duck - to be well cooked and taste sublime. For those seeking a vegan or other specific diet, you will need to give the hotel advance warning: although there are tasty and varied salads and greens, if you want to ensure you are getting enough energy on board, make sure the chef has advanced notice.
Back in my room I barely hear a sound all weekend. Spacious for one person, it has the simple, fresh and undemanding decor I like on a break. An excellent shower is always critical for me, and enough drying room for one person. I can imagine it might be a challenge for two people, but larger rooms are available at extra cost.
On the morning of day two I throw open the windows and, serenaded by disturbed seagulls. During a lazy breakfast, stocking up energy with maple syrup laden waffles (on other days eggs benedict), we exchange stories and contemplate the day.
Later, on the water, we don’t venture far. The wind has picked up, demonstrating the chaotic unpredictability of the southwest coast. Having Brendon alongside, we have a constant update of what is going on with the weather and the water.
Over these few days we find ourselves serendipitously switching ‘paddle mate’, exploring the trivial and the deep thoughts of our fellow adventurers. This is the greatest element of the weekend for me - being on the water is such a meditative experience, for you must be in the moment, focused on what you are doing. On calm days you might contemplate science or art, singing like no-one is listening. On more erratic days you need to focus on your paddling. Brendon’s approach complements this perfectly - drawing attention to things you might miss whilst helping you avoid heading out into the Atlantic on a rip current.
That evening we enjoy sundown vinyasa-inspired yoga with Lucy. Lying under palm trees in Queen Mary Gardens, the tall, spiring purple Pride of Madeira, hollyhocks, and an assortment of chattering birds colour the evening. We ease into some sun salutations; Lucy has, of course, devised a practice to ease all the muscles that we have used, relaxing body and mind. As the sun sets on this May evening, we are abruptly cooled, and I head for a bone-warming sauna.
On day two, after a lengthy exploration of the coast we are extraordinarily thankful to be booked in to the spa. First stop for me is the sea salt steam - set at 43 degrees my aching and tense muscles ease; I move to the jet massages and then on to the herbal sauna.
The spa is complemented by its carefully planted and lovingly tended garden - a blend of exotic and familiar foliage and colour. I cool for a while in the early evening air then retreat to the garden sauna - a long and tall barrel-shaped wooden room with a floor-to-ceiling glass window framing a serene view of the garden, the ocean providing a dramatic backdrop. I refresh with a dip in the cold plunge pool and scan the many different places to be seen or sink away. I love the vast cocoon-shaped day bed and enjoy yet more rest.
Reflecting on my experience I feel ready for a more solitary adventure; and Brendon kindly offers to check my plans - to head south, then west from Torcross and use my new-found knowledge and courage (rather … Brendon says he will check the tides, currents and weather!) to go round Start Point and make a glorious landing at South Sands in the Kingsbridge Estuary. If I can do this, I can stick with this and I have the perfect metaphor for my recurring work conundrum.