Bondi Beach is a legend, a place with its own slang, culture, lifestyle. Bondi is not enough to be seen, it must be experienced!
Glitzy opera house, Harbor Bridge in the background, bay full of yachts. Red rock in the desert, in the middle of nowhere. Kangaroos, koala or platypus. All symbols of such a distant part of the world for us Europeans.
The true Australian legend is full of sand, salt water and people of all nationalities.
BONDI BEACH is a legend, a place with its own slang, culture, lifestyle. Bondi is not enough to see, it must be experienced!
“Come on shouts Kate from the boardwalk, "Come while you can stand it outside!"
"Not today, I've just ordered a coffee, I'm just going for a walk on the beach, I can't feel my legs from yesterday."
January 7 morning , sprinkled 60 cents of powder at home and I'm sweating. Morning flat white, coffee-flavored cocoa, sprawled out on the promenade at Lash cafe, Bondi beach like in the palm of your hand.
Sydney is waking up, the dogs are already tongue-tied, it's a pleasant 28 degrees outside, people are running here and there, everyone's iPod on the shoulder, macaws run on the sand, weaker people occupy the sidewalks, dogs growl on the grass.
The first fighters have already swam away, the others are fighting "for their lives". It's not a catchphrase in Australia, this season two athletes had their legs torn off by a shark. it's not the Adriatic, you have to work hard in the water. Locals advise: don't wear swimming goggles, you don't need to see what's going on around you. I follow the advice and they only get me into the ocean in a crowd, less chance that the fish will choose me.
Sport is numero uno for OZ's. They run to and from work, they know how to swim before they can walk, owning a "fitko" is an excellent business, every day I have 10 flyers in my inbox with promotions on Yoga, Thai bo, Wing cu and if I was serious, I'm supposed to be within half a year pumped up like the guys from the catalog. I'm not even talking about bicycles, skates and kayaks. But that's still not "the real nut". What else suits smiling, sunny Australia better than surfing. The idol of the continent DOWN UNDER. Not only kids, chubby hotties, but also older ones after working hours, they throw their board on the roof of the car, or run barefoot straight from the house to the beach, put on a wetsuit, sit by the water for a while. A short warm-up and just having fun in the waves. Apparently, everyone enjoys it, it looks good, boys and girls show off on the water, sometimes he "washes" someone or climbs out of the seal under the eye (surfing is a tough sport).
A few hours have passed. The temperature rose to a beautiful 35, I don't even want to know what it's like in the sun. The waves have grown, Bondi is filling up. It's also crowded around me, I order a salad and fries. The tables around are occupied by people of different categories, each speaking a different language. I catch some of them, but mostly I don't say a word. I'm trying to figure out what this is about. sweet Spaniards, the theme is one hundred percent yesterday's "fiesta", the German looks like an IT guy, the Jews deal with business and the French say goodbye to a friend, even tears flow.
The view of the beach confirms to me that you need to keep cool. When even a Brazilian woman applies cream, something is wrong. Local matadors are waxing their surfboards and two punks are rolling in the sand.
Three Swedish blondes are dusting towels, turning pale skin into chocolate, they're doing quite well. I admire the Chinese family: cameras, cameras, a hat, but especially a long sweater, it must be comfortable.
After a longer observation, I begin to feel that the Brazilian woman keeps her eyes on the surfers, the Chinese on the Swedes, and those for a change To Spaniards, a vicious circle.
For some, Bondi Beach is a workplace, popsicles, water and fresh juice will find you, even if you are not looking for it. It's more responsible on the tower, no Baywatch, here the lifeguards wear blue swimsuits, a ridiculous swimming cap and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Eyes everywhere, walkie-talkie in hand, not even a float is swinging under the roof. Sometimes someone goes for a run on a quad bike, or takes a jet ski for a spin. The support is also from the top, shark patrol checks the entire bay from a helicopter, they say the bigger pieces can be seen nicely from the mountain.
In the afternoon it became pleasantly windy and as time went on, the number of people increased. The big skate park was filled, the spotlights were set up, is rolling on camera today. There were children of school age, as well as groups with six packs of beer in hand. The drinking regime must be followed.
The sky is starting to turn red, the beach is deserted, but the surrounding bars are cracking. Champagne, long drinks, beer in plastic. Fresh fish, mussels with wine, Thai slime, tapas or classic schnitzel. Everyone brings their culture, customs, holidays, cuisine and good mood to Sydney. This also helps to survive life on the driest continent on the planet.
A typical Sydney resident is hard to define, blue-eyed Englishman, Dutchman, Scotsman? Smiling Thai, Indonesian or Chinese? Black Brazilian woman? French or Lebanese, Slovak, Greek or Italian? They all have citizenship, they must vote for parliament, pay taxes and shout OZ, OZ, OZ, Hey Hey Hey! during rugby. The official language is English, there are dozens of unofficial ones and they are often enough, you just have to enjoy life, enjoy every hot day, that's what makes Sydney unforgettable.
Article source: https://bubo. sk/blog/australian-reptile-culture-day-at-bondi
Article author: Ľuboš Fellner