thrush trumpet
it was the recurrent, non-consensual
low grit/high volume sand enemas that got me.
Archive for
Oct 29
gone fishing
I’d be walking past this family, doffing my cap and saying ‘how do ye do.’ before carrying on towards the northern dunes, which I would climb.
Dunes that ended at the shallow waters of Rose Bay.
Where I would fish a little east of where the Wintergarden sits, bring in a few blackfish.
That’s what I’d do.
~~
North Bondi then and now
Beautiful Bondi – 1926
It’s not often we get a glimpse such as this of the generation before ours, and partway into it I watched those kids coming out of Bondi Public and heading for the beach – looking for the ones with no shoes, then I looked at their sun-bitten faces and saw Bondi written all over them.
Then there was the babes … and a handy demo of toothpick directionals. The Palatial Bondi Hotel. The kid who wouldn’t get out of the panorama beach shot. A beach inspector telling two grown men wrestling in the sand to pull their heads in. It’s all here …
No sound.
Lifted this from Bondi Longboarders FB .. thanks for finding it.
petebowes.com 