Tag Archives: Australia

Masculine Ferry and Foam Boards

In wandering around Sydney and its glorious suburbs, I have been advised many a time to take the Manly ferry from Circular Quay. To MANLY. Seriously, everyone I’ve met has told me to do it. So today, I finally did. I did not bring my board because, quite frankly, I didn’t feel like lugging it on the bus and the ferry and for a walk of indeterminate length. When I got there, I learned that you could rent a foam board for $15/hour, which would be roughly equivalent to the cost of eggs on toast. Worth it! I love to Wavestorm! Who doesn’t? It’s like all the best things about surfing, except being able to turn your board and duckdive. Today, on my pink BZ, I was reminded how much those things occasionally matter–especially when there’s some freaky rip-roaring current and the sea is suddenly composed entirely of whitewater. And not to be a whiner, but just about every time I find myself on a longboard (or carrying one) I say, “Ugh. This is why I’m a shortboarder.” Not because longboarding’s not fun; just because I’m lazy. The boards themselves weigh about as many stones as I do, and paddling out is a bitch. Anyway, I have also decided that while BZ may be the Escalade to Wavestorm’s Suburban, Wavestorms are lighter, more maneuverable, and generally, better. In my opinion.

Stay tuned for the wallet debacle that is WAX in the land Down Under…

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Bronte Photos

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Diplomas and Splints and Snow

You: Up to speed. In brief:

12.10.10

After showing my outta-town friends what the Jersey Shore is really like, I tumbled down some stairs and broke my finger.

I maintain that the culprit was the extreme lack of light by which that staircase may have been seen.

12.17.10

NYU threw us a graduation fete. The best way to say, “Congratulations on completing your master’s program!” is really to dole out oodles of free wine, and that they did. My mom got drunk and wrote “Viagra” on a white board–we have no idea why:

 

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World Cup and SUP (Dude?)

First things first: I watched the Australia – Germany game yesterday (DVR, I love you) and I’m only going to say that it left me sobbing.  Ok, maybe not sobbing, but shaking my head, at least.  4-0?  Unwarranted red cards?  For shame.

Now that that’s out of the way, I can tell you that I SUPed for the first time yesterday, too.  My roomie and I rented the boards from a guy in the harbor who gave me a quick lesson before sending me off into the strong westerly winds.  I hit a docked boat.  After that, all was good.  If you haven’t tried it, SUPing is kind of a mix between canoeing and longboarding.  It’s weird because you stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, side by side, so the stance is totally different than surfing, but once you get used to it, it’s actually so much fun.  And a really great workout.

Dana Point

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2010 XXL Wipeout Nominees

As you may have noticed, I have a thing for wipeout footage.  It’s not that I actually enjoy watching it – it makes me cringe – but there’s something sickly fascinating about watching a particularly nasty wipeout.  And these are  absolutely brutal.  Shipsterns must be the gnarliest wave.  Ever.

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City Surf Fix: The Sunburnt Cow

You know that saying, “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em?”  Well, since the Aussies have commandeered the ASP World Tour, I figure maybe it’s time we joined them- at least for brunch.  This is where The Sunburnt Cow comes in.

The Sunburnt Cow is a little Australian establishment in Alphabet City, which boasts some of the best specials in town: Choose any two hours, pay $20, drink as much as you can.  I swear.  For a breakfast person like myself, the Cow’s main appeal can be summed up in two words: Endless.  Brunch.  Yes, that’s right.  Endless brunch, I say.

On weekends from 11-5, $18 will get you Buttermilk Banana Pikelets (pretty much little pancakes) or Bush Benedict, PLUS (this is the best part) all-you-can-drink “Moomosas,” “Moo Marys,” Foster’s, etc.  In other words, sustenance and warmth- perhaps after an ice-cold Rockaway session and a long train ride home.

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Bustin’ Down The Door

I admittedly watched this for the very first time last night, and immediately wished I had bought it, rather than Netflixed it.  Bustin’ Down the Door is Jeremy Gosch’s round documentary on the Aussie (and South African) invasion of the 1970s.  Smart interviews and first-person accounts are fused with formidable footage (both contemporary and current) to form the cohesive and compelling story of six surfers (“Rabbit” Bartholomew, Peter Townend, Mark Richards, Ian Cairns, Shaun Tomson, and Michael Tomson) who changed the sport.  MR’s style is just ridiculous and Ian Cairns is hilariously unapologetic.  If you are even remotely interested in the history of surfing, at least rent the thing- you won’t be disappointed because it’s excellent.

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