I am a surf widow. That’s what often happens to us women who have relationships with surfers. My boyfriend lives in Cornwall, and he wouldn’t move to the North East because he says the surf’s not good enough. You can almost taste his disappointment when we’ve driven over to Saltburn and appeared at the top of the cliff overlooking the sea only to find the waves are as flat as a pancake.

Quite often though, Saltburn gets some fairly decent surf if you’re not quite up to Point Break standard; 2ft waves are perfect for me and Charlie. We had some great days on Saltburn beach over the summer, and I’m hoping we’re going to muster up enough courage to brave the sea the odd day in Autumn too.

Charlie has his own board, shaped especially for him as a present, though he’s just as happy on his tacky foam body board. Riding on the shallow waves is good for his confidence in the water as he’s having so much fun he forgets to be bothered about his head going under. Until, that is, he swallows a gallon of salty sea water.

Once kids are 8 years old they can start having proper surf lessons with Saltburn Surf School. It often takes less time to get to Saltburn from Darlington than you’d think- sometimes just 30 minutes if you take the A19 south then pick up the A174 towards Redcar.

I went the other morning, and found myself wishing the boy was with me. There’s something lovely about the beach when it’s been raining and the sun comes out, and there are little puddles all over the sand. First we’re wishing they’d start school; then we’re wishing they weren’t. I only work weekends and the odd day through the week, so I have quite a bit of spare time. First thing will be to improve my surf technique: I fell off more times than my 4 year-old.