Living in an old, unheated camper for fourteen months, during the coldest winter in thirty years, Jonathan Bennett traveled clockwise around Britain, surfing every beach he could catch a wave. From the Isle of Harris to the Lizard Peninsula, from Orkney to Anglesey, from Sandwood Bay to Sussex, he shared the waves with seals, sewage and fellow surfers, meeting friendly and not-so-friendly locals, often alone and miles from civilization. Without going near a campsite, he slept with the sound of the sea whispering in his ears, and woke each day ready to shred a new wave.
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