Bondi

A place like no other that I’ve visited, although that’s not saying a whole lot, Bondi Beach is something of a phenomenon in the UK- billed as one of the world’s premiere beach’s. It was weird then to spend nearly a month living in Bondi, ‘hitting’ the beach most days and enjoying the buzz and the atmosphere that is impossible to ignore in the town itself. Without doubt this is the most beautiful place that I have ever been. I don’t use the word beautiful to describe the scenery, the setting or the sights, rather the people who inhabit the town and grace the beach with their presence. Everyone in this place is tanned, toned and pre-requisitely good looking. There is something about the women that makes you want to stop and stare, not least because they are in bikinis, although Jonny and myself have resigned to a muffled cry of ‘cuuu-weeeee’ as wondrous blondes and stunning brunettes flash past us. You may be surprised to know that this particular pick up technique has not been 100% successful, but I will keep you updated. The place is so image conscious that you yourself become image-conscious. I am not in the shape of my life and every day on the beach is a constant reminder of that as aspiring lifeguards, surfers and bodybuilders walk, run and strut their way along the sand. There is even a small ‘muscle-beach’ gym at the North end, in an attempt to recreate the infamous Muscle Beach in Miami, I haven’t yet pumped any iron down their, but it’s a matter of days before I do. I hope that I am not painting a terrible picture of the place; moreover a place such as Bondi has its ups and its downs, highlights and lowlights. Many of the locals prefer quieter beaches, where you are less likely to have you’re time in the sun marred by UK tourists kicking a football (and mountains of sand) towards your towel, or be badgered for photos by the evergreen Japanese visitors. Surfers are quick to point out that the ‘surf’ isn’t even that great at Bondi. But as I have mentioned it does have a lot going for it, and just yesterday Jonny and I were swarmed upon by a bevy of blonde beauties as we launched into a game of Frisbee on the waterfront. I use the term ‘swarmed upon’ loosely. In reality they were a good thirty meters up the beach, but I sure they were watching and to shy to come over and tell us what good Frisbee throwers we were, something like that anyway.
There is one character that I have seen everyday at the beach without fail. Jonny and I know him only as ‘bat and ball man’. He is possibly European, but very well tanned (and toned obviously) and without fail he is always at the beach playing the famous beach game of bat and ball. He will play with anyone he can find; male, female, young, old, it does not matter to him, he just wants to find a worthy adversary. I don’t think he’ll find one, probably because he’s absolutely amazing at the game. Lets be honest it is not a game which many people a.)Practice and b.) Play solidly for, lets say, 20 years (he’s quite old), thus, this would suggest he is possibly one of the best bat and ball players in the world, possibly the best ever, he’s a 'hall of famer'! Still he is there every day, bat in hand, elbow support firmly strapped on and a bandana protecting his eyes from his long hair. Neither Jonny nor I have challenged him to a game yet; it would be nice to take on the best in the world though.