Travel Journalism
Beach-bumming on Bondi
ONE of the excitements, and sadnesses, of
living in Pietermaritzburg is that many of our children have emigrated to
all corners of the world. I see patients every week, who are off to the
U.S., Canada, England, Australia and New Zealand to visit their children. I
have just been on one of these excursions myself to visit a son who lives at
the exotic Bondi Beach in Australia.
Bondi somehow has a touch of the Mediterranean about it and everyone hangs
out there in a topless sort of way. It has a sixties drifters feel to it.
The beach itself has fine white sand, peppered with a generous supply of
breasts pointing towards the sky.
'If you were an extraterrestrial and first landed at Bondi you might wonder
what sort of things they were trying to grow on earth.
To get to the sea I had to tread carefully between these antennae, while
nonchalantly concentrating on some of the other fine points of life in the
far distance.
All is not over once you have reached the sea. I was standing waist-deep in
the waves when out of the crest of a wave came that most terrifying of
creatures, the Great White Australian Mammary Glands. Being of British
stock, I assumed that you had, like meeting a tiger in the jungle, to stand
your ground and look them straight in the eyes. Showing fear or making a run
for it might lead, especially if they were coming down from on top of a
dumper, to instant mummification. I somehow felt I needed a matador's cape
to flourish as they swept magnificently by on their way to impalement on the
sand.
To recover from the terrors of the deep I was taken, for resuscitation, to
the first floor of Ravesi's restaurant, overlooking the beachfront. Now I
don't know if you know this but Australians have a thing they do called
drinking. You might have heard of it.
The password in New South Wales is "no worries, mate, I'll have a VB" which
stands for Victoria Bitter. Home in Australia is where the beer fridge is
and apparently there is one in every three Australian homes.
Apart from VBs, they make a cocktail, which has amazing powers of
transference, called a Blue Lagoon. It is made up of gin, curacao and
lemonade, and has a translucent, aquamarine colour to it.
My psychiatrist tells me you only need three to reach another plane of
consciousness. By common consent, if you wake up the next morning with a
tattoo, you have had too many.
Blue Lagoons also appear to induce what in medicine is known as a
disinhibition syndrome. It allows one to discuss some of the great
philosophical debates of the century.
We ended up in an absorbing discussion on the difference definitions of a
nerd, a geek, a wally and what the Australians call a yuppie loser.
Opinions are accompanied by extravagant gestures and participants assume
that everything said is masterfully eloquent. It is better if the whole
table has Blue Lagoons as there is therefore no need for further sensible
conversation by anyone. Abstainers might miss out on the exquisite nuances
and subtleties of the dialogue.
Ravesi's restaurant is well known, as are many Sydney eating places, for its
seafood and, following the BEs, we had Blue-Eyed Cod with broccoli dressed
with Pesto alla Genovese and a variety of nut oils and basil. This was eased
down with another Great Australian White, Coonawarra Sauvignon Blanc.
Looking out over the sun-drenched beach I thought that nothing could
possibly disturb this idyllic view yet there is an interesting new
phenomenon called Wave Rage, obviously coined after the phenomenon of road
rage.
The condition arises when there are too many surfers hanging out on the back
line and they are all competing to get on a good wave.
Assaults have been reported between surfers, who poach on what is perceived
to be the other surfer's territory.
How one indulges in a bout of fisticuffs while standing on a surfboard is
somewhat hard to imagine.
I should think with the first swing of the fist, one would land overboard.
Presumably they wait until they have reached the shore and then swat each
other with their surfboards.
I never saw anything but sunshine and harmony. The main dangers, it appears,
for tourists in Australia are the Great Australian Whites and the Blue
Lagoons.
(First Published: 22 April 2003)