The rest of my time in Australia is spent staying in Bondi Beach and exploring the beaches up and down the coast. Bondi Beach is like a blend between the Cape and Natal, with beautiful cliff vistas of the Cape and a surfer-laden, laid back humidity of Durban. Although, most days I feel like I am the only person currently in Australia that does not (or can’t) surf. Whether working in the office or relaxing at a braai, everyone here keeps a constant eye on the surf, wind and weather changes so as not to miss the perfect wave.
The number of beaches north and south of Sydney are countless and there is a seemingly endless weather sturdy promenade that runs almost uninterrupted from Watson’s Bay to Coogee beach. Around every bend the Pacific caresses and heaves into the cliff-sides and sandy bays. Property must be like gold as high rises and mansions cling to the coastline, jostling for the blue views. Half way between Bondi and Coogee you will find Mackenzie’s rocks, Tamarama and Bronte Beach. A prime piece of hillside hosts the extensive Waverly cemetery and one feels pleased for these departed souls in their resting place with plenty cobalt sky and sea. Walking along, the beating sun causes us to peel off our clothes and dive straight from the rocks in the crisp channel at Clovely. Bliss, this is by far the best swim I have had in ages as I far prefer the refreshing smack of cold sea water. More walks along to Watson’s Bay and the Sydney National Park and laps in the famous Icebergs pool are a great way to enjoy the Australian summer. Evenings are spent gorging ourselves on unrivaled Thai food and a Tapas feast at the Vue Bar, with chorizo, rocket salads, gorgonzola mushrooms and Arancini (risotto balls).
Australia Day arrives with plenty of pomp and ceremony and I marvel at the sheer multitude of people crammed along the beach, squeezing into every last open square of sand. Our day is a lot less space competitive as we pop some “˜shrimps on the barbie’ down on MacKenzie’s point and enjoy the wide range of Australian beers.
I borrow my cousin’s car and take a titillating drive across the formidable harbour bridge to explore the bays from Manly to Palm Beach. I just don’t tire of the beaches here and each one is different and picture worthy, and the rugged hilly coastline makes the drive worthwhile. Winding past forest slopes and cliff edge mansions, with driveways on their roofs, I navigate my way back into the city to Darlinghurst. An ill advised instruction from my GPS however, finds me in the thick of Friday afternoon city traffic. This is soon forgotten as we sit down to dinner at the famous Bills restaurant in Surrey Hills, sporting the most delicious range of Bill Granger cuisine. Grilled flat bread with a mint and pea puree and marinated feta to start, lip tingling chilli prawn linguine with rocket and lemon for mains, and a seductive crème caramel for dessert, leaves my grateful taste buds sighing.
Last weekend and we are up with the sparrows to set off camping down the south coast from Sydney. Coffee takeaways, gear crammed in the back and a pile of surfboards on the roof we head west out of the city. As we cruise along, the scudding clouds begin to diminish as we hope for a surfing, beach day. We take the scenic route through the Royal National Park complete with complaints about an $11 entrance fee and a number of stops to admire the scenery. The lack of breakfast eventually gets the best of us as we search for a potential outlet. The Scarborough hotel just south of Clifton, does perfectly albeit a bit pricey, but banana bread and bacon hits the spot sufficiently. Our journey follows the coastal road through Wombarra, Wollongong and Lake Illawara. Stopping to enjoy frothy white waves on the surfboards I make my first attempt at surfing. Needless to say I am safer lying down riding the white water, but I do get plenty of laughs from my supporters and eventually give up my board to my cousin who puts it to much better use. We head off to secure a campsite in Gerroa and after a bit of administration we pitch our tents on some lovely soft, luscious grass. A far cry from the stony campsites in the Kalahari that I am accustomed to and I am secretly relieved knowing my yoga mat-come-bed will be fine. A sundowner picnic and some sparkling ale wash down the golden rays and we find a great viewpoint to watch the day swallow the sun. Dinner is a delectable array of grilled vegetables, fresh salad, lamb steak and kanga bangers (kangaroo sausage), which are low fat, delicious and grilled to perfection, by my South African cousin (of course).
My days in Australia have come to an end and after a run down the 7 mile beach we spend a lazy day in the campsite watching the crabs fill the soggy river bed and bask in the sun. Reluctantly we pack up and head back towards the city, stopping for delicious fish and chip dinner in Cronulla. My greatest memories of Australia are numerous but what stands out is the efficiency of everything based on high levels of trust and obeying of the rules. Also memorable is the wide range of beers, lagers and draughts and the Australian’s mad addiction to coffee, sun, sea and surfing.
What I would love to bring back is the wonderful city culture with hundreds of restaurants, cafes, bistros and deli’s spilling out all over the city, covering the corners with mouth watering smells and a spirited sense of socialising, happy people. I have an 19 hour flight home but I yearn for South Africa’s depth of culture and personality.
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