“This is it!” announced Gav proudly from the clifftop, phone in hand as he live-streamed a video on Facebook. “Widow’s Peak, fabled secret Point-Break. Six foot and clean.”

We charged towards the sea, a rainbow rabble of surfboards, hooting all the way. The wave swelled, glinting in the morning sun and rising like the excitement in our bellies.

None of us were experienced surfers. We were just a bunch of kooks from London on a stag do, but we copied what the locals were doing.