End Times.

The last week in Sydney has literally been my very last week in Sydney. Happily, it's been split between kids I love and beaches I love. And sometimes both at the same time, resulting in a happiness overload.

Thursday my youngest charge finished up a 4-day camp for disabled kids, and everyone thoroughly enjoyed the family festival afterwards, particularly the middle two.

I spent Friday with a little fellow I used to look after when he was just a few months old. After a HIGHLY (read: hyperactively) positive response to the idea of the beach, we were on the sand in Bondi at 8.30am, ready to roll.

He's a little nudist in the making, this one. He kept having to "go winse off my swimmas", but somehow they never ended up back on him. Sandcastles and wave jumping and repeated sunscreen application, oh my. The beach through the eyes of a 4-year old gives it a whole new joy.

Saturday I decided to hunt down another small and remote beach, preferably not quite as nudist as the last attempt. I opted for the highly promising "Shark Bay". I followed this trail..

.. to discover this beach.

I couldn't find any info on frequent shark attacks here but yes, those are very large shark nets in the water, so I'll leave you to come up with the Jaws-esque story of how it got its name.

It was not quite as deserted as described, but fortunately nearly all Sydney beaches are surrounded with large cliffs and boulders, so I hiked north a bit, wedged myself between a few rocks and.. no complaints.

And yes, I swam outside the shark nets, just because.

Things I've Seen.

In Sydney on Wednesdays, a big truck comes around and picks up any junk left on the curbs. Or "kerbs", as they spell it here. This means that every weekend as people are 'tossing', you can walk around the neighborhood going through piles of very nice things. I've acquired a full set of dishes, a large picture for my wall, and a plastic singing Santa by this method. Essentially anything can go into these piles, but imagine my surprise when I came across this rather large item:

I don't know what it is either. A hanging mobile for a baby giant?? It was seriously the size of a small car. The next day it had been moved into a huge dumpster.

All I know is, if I had space in my flat, I would've totally taken it home, just as a "conversation piece". Other things of note lately:

(Because you'd hate to be paralyzed or die, and THEN be fined $150..)

I did a double take on the school motto. I'd love to see this in the US of A.

Just in case they're tempted..

Town Hall decorated for Christmas on an 85 degree day.

Drey and Natty's Weekend of FUN!

My dear sissy returned from her NZ adventures for 72 hours in Sydney, before finally heading home. And what a 72 hours it was. Activities included but not limited to:
Singing Christmas carols by candelight in 80 degree weather overlooking Sydney Harbour.

Roasted beet root salad. Re-confirmed that I still don't like beets. Good thing Nat does.

Swimming/guitar/lunch/hiking/contemplation, in/around the cliffs.

A classy farewell dinner = fish sticks, beer, and tv reruns. Only the best.

Ridiculous sunsets.

Pictures worth a thousand words.

Activities not pictured: sunburns, glorious back massages, solving all our life problems.

Last night after hugging Nat goodbye at the airport, I was feeling a bit jealous that she's beating me home, and consequently beating me to eggnog, family, snow, and leg warmers.

And then I walked outside, saw this, and decided, I can rough it out one more week.

Sydney Airport, International Terminal, 6 December, 8.13pm, 82 degrees fahrenheit.

No Tan Lines Around Here...

Without going into all the disgustingly sunny details so as not to upset chilly folks back home, it's been warm here lately. By warm, I mean hot. And by hot I mean, a top of 112 degrees last Sunday. That's about the time when everyone cancels any previous plans and heads directly for the nearest body of water. Wanting to avoid the noisy masses at Bondi, I hopped on a bus headed north, went for a little hike, and arrived at a deliciously uncrowded little cove, as seen below.

It was called, appropriately enough, Lady Bay. Sweating like a pig in a slaughterhouse, I threw my stuff on a rock and went straight into the sea, which was inexplicably glorious. After a few minutes swimming, I noticed that most of my fellow beach-goers were rather pudgy, elderly men. I also noticed people walking the trail above the beach taking indulgent, lingering glances before chuckling and walking off. It was only then that I looked over at the sign post and read the following:

Yes, I was at a "nudie beach", as the kids call it. I was the only young-ish female with swimmers on in a literal sea of middle-aged naked men. And let me tell you, it was actually a very pleasant beach experience. I discoverd everyone tends to space themselves out quite generously when in the nude, which was nice (read: an enormous relief). Not only was it relatively uncrowded, the water was fantastically cold, the surroundings pristine, and apart from the occasional teenage wanker shouting out a petty "Put some bloody clothes on!", it was completely calm and quiet.

I still have no idea why it is called Lady Bay, however.

Other Strange Sightings.

Seen Recently:

Jesus. In a cemetery, no less.


Crazy purple flower trees.


A massive ancient statue in someone's bedroom
(coincidentally somewhere near the art museum).


Not only is this really a Christian, mustard coloured UTE,
it actually says "Michael Jackson 1958-2009" on the back.


Darnit. That's the only place I can ever find a spot!


Geez, look what washed up today..

We can only assume this belonged to the individual above.