Tag Archives: beach

“That man behind you is naked.”

“What?”

I’m laying on the beach in Seaside Park. Katy doesn’t appear to be fucking with me, so I prop myself on an elbow and peer south: Penis. Of the middle-aged persuasion.

Then Speedo. Never thought I’d be so grateful for a Speedo.

As we’re recovering from the shock of such flagrant nudity on a non-nude beach, the guy begins walking determinedly in our direction, sunscreen in hand. No. We strategically avert our eyes and act as if we haven’t noticed. Until he is upon us, glaring sun behind his aged back, in all his Speedoed glory.

He quickly utters lots of German words that probably translate, most nearly, to “Will you please rub this sunblock on my back? I can’t reach. I’m German.”

I find myself speechlessly shaking my head with a dazed and horrified look in my eyes. Jackie glances from him to me and back, amused. Katy grudgingly says, “I’ll do it,” and stands up.

For the entire 30 seconds that she’s applying cream to the nude dude’s back, her expression is one of absolute disgust. Like a vegan confronted with freshly hacked pig flesh. Disgust to the nth degree.

“GermanGermanGermanIndecipherableGermanDankeGermanDanke.” This is obviously the reason he’s unaware that it’s not okay to expose your d at F Street. Fair. Maybe.

He returns to his blanket and lays down. On his back. Katy is bewildered.

She is also from England, visiting our fine shoals for the first time. Welcome to the Land of Enchantment (Jersey totally deserves it more than NuMex).

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anarmandaleg (WAX)

My first session here was at Bondi. When I got off the bus, I ducked into some news agent, figuring, Hey, we’re at Bondi; every shop must sell wax. I was correct.

However, I did not anticipate that when the guy rang me up, he would ask me for $4.95 (AUD, of course). I said, “Pardon me, good sir?”

He said, “Yes, you beautiful, young lady, I said $4.95.”

I scoffed.

He said, “How much you usually pay?”

“Like a dollar fifty,” I responded (scandalized).

Now he looked scandalized. “Well… uhh… give me $3.95.”

I said merci and chalked it up to a small store, a captive audience, and some good, old-fashioned gouging.

That is, until the next time I happened to check the price on wax, and it was still somewhere around five bills. I accosted my US-born, fellow surfer of a landlord and he laughed and simply said, “Yeah, everything here is expensive.”

Fair enough. At least I can say I haggled my first Aussie bar of wax. And won a 20% discount.

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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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Surf 24

I can’t tell you how awesome it was to see Shaun Tomson or Sam Trammel at Surf 24 on ISD.  But I can tell you how eerie Huntington Pier, weirdly, is not at 3 a.m.  I can tell you how there were guys in mummy bags sleeping (or trying to) on the sand, and how tired watchdogs were checking for wristbands, but unwilling to chase anyone down who couldn’t show one.  I can tell you that the waves were slightly sloppy, about waist-high.  That they crept out of the darkness and picked up many a resolute rider, powering through the witching hour.

I can tell you that Billabong ultimately won, but that the mood, at least in the middle of the night, was one of drowsy solidarity.

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Sandblasted Benches + Slop (+ Fog)

This is what the beach looked like today…

…hoping for better conditions (and visibility) mañana, though it does look all eerie and cool in the fog.

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City Surf Fix: ¡VAMOS! (Fish Tacos)

You’re a surfer.  You know you love Mexican food (we all do).  In a city that boasts thousands of restaurants – many of them Mexican – fish tacos are not as  ubiquitous as you’d think.

Tacos de Pescado Frito (Baja)

¡VAMOS! (1st Avenue between 20th and 21st Streets) has a massive array of both tacos and tequilas.  The Tacos de Pescado Frito Baja Style are over-stuffed with beer-battered, fried fish and chipotle mayo.  They are delicious.  The menu warns of some heat, but they’re really not that spicy, so drip a little bit of that unnaturally green hot sauce on ’em for an extra kick.  Two tacos will run you about $8.

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