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Sunday in Sydney…

Yesterday I went to Sydney’s arguably most famous beach, Bondi. I will apologize presently for not having any pictures of it in the name of carrying minimal crap I decided to carry only my towel, clothes, and a few other items.

Furthermore, I didn’t want to sweat my camera being purloined whilst I waded. I mean, really, are too many people going to come in and steal my copy of The Golden Compass? Anyhow, the sun was up and beaming happily, this beintg the first weekend it has done so since my arrival.

I had opened my eyes that morning and hit the switch on the blackout curtains, to my surprise about halfway up I could see nothing but azure blue peeking between the buildings of the CBD - I knew my first beach opportunity had come.

So, as I was saying, I headed to Bondi via Wynyard (rhymes with vineyard, same syllabation as well) where I picked up a new iPod remote due to my iPod remote issue. I’ve now bought two of these things and am going to send Apple a complaint letter about it. I then took the train hop up to Cirqular Quay (“key”) and took a glance at The Rocks district and the building that my guidebook described as looking like turtles in congress.

BUT there was no time for that - I had a mission, beach with a vengeance. With the iPod of Doom playing along my bus ride through the Paddington neighborhood and into Bondi (township of) went by quickly.

I headed down the road (Bondi town looking a lot like Santa Cruz) and stopped in the grocery store for some peaches, plums, and a big ol' thing o' water. I continued walking towards the now very clear azure sea until I found the Bondi pavilion. There I changed into my trunks, hired a locker, and hit the sugary sand. I found a spot and slathered the SPF30 on. Looking singularly placental I lay back and enjoyed the mellowing sounds of the surf and the waves.

It wasn’t long before I ventured into the sea and found the water to be temperate and comfortable….well, after you get over that “holy crap when that next wave goes over my waist this is going to suck”. I spent four hours hanging out on the beach and had a nice conversation with my towel-neighbor from Ireland.

It was a fine time. Towards 4pm the clouds drifted in so I headed back to the pavilion and changed. I hopped the bus back to town and swung by The Windsor Hotel (which is a bar [pub]) around the corner. Being thoroughly wiped-out I watched some Cricket and ordered room service before retiring.