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Published: February 19th 2007
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What is Christmas all about?
In the northern hemisphere (well at least in London) Christmas seems a conveniently timed festival……. Just as we’re all just getting cold and miserable and then we have an excuse to take some time away from work, spend time with family, indulge in some festive food, get drunk, buy/receive presents and do many other things which on the whole will make us feel better.
Many ex-pats in oz exchange comment on how it doesn’t feel like Christmas over here….. The weather for one leaves us disorientated and most won’t have family around but this year I’ve noticed something different…… I simply didn’t need Christmas as much - for every morning I am greeted by bright sunshine and most weekends are spent on the beach!!!
Given my new climate and country I decided to have a totally different Christmas.
First up for the weekend before I went to ‘Surf Camp’…. What’s the first rule Surf Camp (We’ll get to that later).
For the grand sum of 220aud we were driven 3 hours up the coast given two nights accommodation/food and two day of surf lessons. We (Rod, Esther and myself) left Friday night and had quite
Back to front
OK so surfers have the zip at the back a boozy bus ride up before arriving at our ranch which was literally in the middle of nowhere….. first impressions the place seemed a little strange. I thought the pool was a nice touch but the sauna off the bar, massive Jacuzzi in the dorm and carefully placed mirrors seemed to require some more explanation…… and during the first night we found out that our residence had indeed once been a swingers club.
Up early the next day and ready to go we went to a beach imaginatively named the ‘lighthouse beach’….. being the ‘Second most easterly point of mainland Australia’ the waters have claimed over 100 ships and thus it needed a lighthouse! ED: Australians love to point out the that something is ‘the most this or that’ as if it’s a claim to fame but touting yourself as the second most is taking it a bit far (Byron is the most easterly point of Australia and I have no idea what the third of fourth is!)
We were transported from camp to the beach in 4x4s driving directly on to our deserted and pristine beach which was perhaps 2 or 3km long. It’s funny just as I’ve
Surfs up Dudes
it's easier on the sand started to take it for granted to have great beaches in Sydney I meet people who think nothing to 5 min drive to get a 2km worth of sand all to themselves - it is a different life!
Getting kitted out it seemed I wasn’t natural surfer I had hoped for by first putting the wetsuit on back to front (it seems surfers’ wetsuits have the zip on the back). Running through the basics of catching a wave we then entered the ocean with great ambition…… after 30mins of nose dives, roll drives and general pain we returned to the beach to learn how to stand up and then back in the ocean with no ambition. I actually surprised myself and managed to stand all the way in on my first wave….. a very big ‘air punch’ moment!!!!! And at this point I’ll tell you what surfing is all about. You start on the beach enter ocean and try and get out to where the waves are breaking. This is not only an exhausting experience but you’ll be hit several times by waves which will push you back knock you off the board all with the delightful effect of swallowing
The Busy Beach
I could get used to this sea water. Once you get out there you’ll have multiple attempts to catch waves most of which will end embarrassing and painful failure….. in short it is pain, pain and yet more pain!!!!!
Once most of us had Esther and I took a walk along the beach and up to the lighthouse where we pondered why when you step on the sand it makes a squeaking noise….. at which point I officially named it ‘Mouse Sand’. Coming back the others too had taken enough of a pounding and we had a very international game of beach footie!
That night the potential for a big ‘pool party’ had been a little ‘wiped out’ by our exhausting day but a few jugs of beer some good tunes and even some mismatch live music things started to pick up before a big game of ‘flip cup’. I’m not really into drinking games but the art of ‘flip cup’ lies in the flipping of the cup and not the drinking so girls and guys can compete alike! With 15 on each side of the table the atmosphere was electric. On to the dance floor for a few dances before a mysterious voice over
the PA system declares ‘This is a Pool party…….. CANON BALL’ off with the jeans off with the shirt underwear left on and everyone was bombing into the pool!!! Those that were shy were simply thrown into the pool fully dressed!!! Ending a night with basically everyone in their under/swimwear
It seems the only thing worse than being repeatedly hit by a wave is being hungover and being repeatedly hit by a wave! So another day spent dealing with the oceans power. I had to retract, if not swallow, my pre-weekend claims that ‘I am at one with the Ocean’
Returning back to Sydney at 8pm on Christmas Eve I couldn’t help but think what I would be doing in London. Down the Vic seeing all the old friends before heading back legless to my parents - A familiar pattern drowned history. An Orphan in my new home, a few of us from the bus left at a loose end decided to go to the nearest 5 buck steak place have a meal and few beers. It was a very fitting way to see in Christmas Eve.
Christmas Day
Awaking to find no presents under the
tree (in fact no tree at all), no stocking full Satsumas and no parents asking what time I’d got in the previous night……. It could have been any other day. With Katharine, new flatmate, adding to our numbers we patched together a Christmas brunch consisting of bacon, eggs, champers and peach muffins. It was very enjoyable sitting out in the garden dressed in Christmas themed hats chatting away and generally trying to make each other feel like it was Christmas!!! With the alcohol levels heading towards critical mass we decided to head to Bondi Beach for boots boots at ‘GateCrasher’ - It almost seems as mandatory for a brit in oz to spend at least one Christmas on Bondi beach but with alcohol restricted it didn’t really seem very british or australian!!! Gatecrasher being the only licensed option seemed a no brainer but the music was really hard, the atmosphere no more existent than on the moon and fellow patrons providing endless examples of how chavey some of the brits are out here.
It was a good day but that was because the four of us made it such and I won’t be heading back to a Christmas Bondi any
time soon.
NYE
There are countless options for NYE’s out in Sydney. Being the second major city in the world to welcome in the new year Sydneysiders take as much pride as do the Scottish. Missing the fireworks last year seeing them this year was the priority. With a mixed weather forecast and media hype about the time you needed to arrive at the designated viewing spots. We decided to head down Rushcutters Bay at the end of my street. We Still had a good view of the harbour bridge a fraction of the opera house and most of the other sites that they use to fire their kaleidoscopic rockets although being so far away we missed the acoustical thud that makes everyone go OOOO AAAH.
Going home at 2ish midly drunk I think it was probably my most tame NYE in 15+ years and a good prelude to my 30’s…….. I think?
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