The
heavens opened. We stood by the sea shivering, plastic kayaks at our feet and
cold rain dripping into the collars of our wet-suits. For a fleeting moment I
wondered how on earth I’d come to be standing on a Jersey shore waiting for a
dip in the icy ocean with a group of strangers. Was I dreaming? I slapped the
chilly fabric against my arm… no I wasn’t dreaming. This was the OWPG (Outdoor Writers and Photographers Guild) weekend.
Now admittedly, I don’t have a vast amount of experience of AGM weekends of any kind, but the very string of letters ayyy-geeeeee-emmm always hits a note of tedium somewhere deep inside as I imagine a soul-less meeting room and hours of droning tones about reports, statistics, statements, summaries, summons, plans, protests and presentations. However, as I was a new member to the guild over the summer I thought I should make an effort to meet everyone and pretend I wasn’t at all daunted to meet many of the industry’s champions. But when Dennis Kelsall first sent me the list of activities and adventures that had been planned for us all on Jersey, I began to realise that this wasn’t going to be an ordinary AGM meeting after all.
As it turned out, there wasn’t a note of
tedium in sound, or sight. The Guild walked, cycled, kayaked, abseiled, rock
climbed, coasteer-ed, blo-karted, cruised, talked, ate and drank their way
around Jersey. The huge range of activities on offer and the enthusiasm for
each one reminded me what a fascinating and diverse group of people I was with.
Each morning, an excited buzz about the day’s adventures and itineraries were just
heard over the clattering sounds of breakfast, and the evenings were packed
with wind-swept faces sharing tales over delicious food and wine.
And what a friendly and welcoming group of
faces they all were, not to mention wildly assorted – from all corners of the
country, all walks of life and all outdoor disciplines. My first impressions of
the OWPG have been great ones overall; if life with the Guild continues to be
as energetic and dynamic as the weekend in Jersey, then I’m sure we’re set for
a long and happy relationship, if a somewhat exhausting one!
So back to standing on the cold beach,
watching fellow members shivering in wetsuits, I wondered if this is what Terry
Fletcher had really meant when he asked me to write a piece on my impressions
of “the Guild in the flesh”. Perhaps real in the flesh coverage will have to
wait until next year, when I know everyone a little better and I can suggest a
Caribbean destination for the ayyyy-geeeee-emmm weekend.
La Corbiere Lighthouse, Jersey
