Yesterday was totally all about the beach. Beach beach beach. Bondi Beach, to be exact. The place where The Oils (Midnight Oil) got their start. A former working man's beach which was most recently the sight of the Olympic volleyball tournaments.
After a bit of confusion trying to meet Nick & Talya (it's both glorious to be without a cellphone and annoying, but there are payphones everywhere), I wound up doing a little bit of beach shopping (more dresses - I'm becoming a complete dress queen) and I just went to the water.
Bondi Beach is a glorious swath of light sand, surrounded by wedges of stone and tidepools that would make my Dad drool. On one end were the children and the dogs, on the other were the surfers, and inbetween were the common folk like myself.
I chose the surfer side.
I spent the day reading topless. Oh yes, you can do the topless thing here! Fortunately, I was all one color anyway so it wasn't like I was suddenly flashing anything too blinding. And I was surrounded by other girls for the wandering surfers to check out as well. I felt a little naughty, but it was far too fun.
I was reading "Lords of Chaos," that book about the Norweigan death metal scene where the guys in the "Black Circle" go about burning churches and killing strangers because they know that is how to truly be "evil." It's a fascinating read. After a couple hours on the beach I had noticed a group of crazy Asian dudes, all older - like in their 60's - wandering the beach and asking groups of girls if they could take pictures. One of them meandered over to me... thankfully, I was lying on my stomach at this point so he couldn't get the full frontal.
He squatted alongside me and smiled. "Yes?" I said. He pointed at himself and said, "I am from Korea." I pointed at myself and said, "California." (I tend to respond with "California" if anyone asks me where I'm from. I like that better than the United States.) He said, "I am from South Korea." I responded, "I am from Los Angeles." He looked at me wistfully and said, "Can you speak Korean?" I answered, "I can speak no Korean at all, sorry." (I've been mistaken for alot of things, but Korean ain't one of them. He looked very sad for a minute, then leaned over and put his hands on my book. It happened to be open to a picture of Dead from the group Mayhem after blowing his brains out (said brain sitting on the floor and the walls covered in blood). He sort of caressed the book and I lamely said, "Um, it's about heavy metal?" Then he sadly walked away.
At the end of my day I had some fish and chips on the seaside and convinced the hunky guy behind the counter to take a break and sit with me for a minute. He was funny, said he wasn't going to give me my food unless I gave him a smile and I said, "In that case, you're stuck sitting with me, because my laugh is better than the smile." Sold! Good one, huh? But I left him and his pooka shell necklace at Bondi, and went back to my place in CBD (downtown) for a wash before heading out for a walk in nighttime Sydney.