“no shoes…no shirt…no problems…”
it’s not mexico, but the idea applies to the lifestyle here in oz. bondi beach is the perfect place to take your lazy bikini wearing bum and forget your worries and your strife…and look for the bare necessities.
literally…most of the asses here are bare. cheeky bottoms. brazilian cut bottoms. thong bottoms. so many bottoms. and mine needs to go for a run and get in a gym before i get kicked off the beach for being too covered up. butt (pun intended) really, bondi is the place to get your toes in the sand and relax with your headphones in or just listen to the ocean crash the shore…or catch a conversation from the tourists next to you from sweden or italy or japan or germany or the uk or basically anywhere other than the united states. (that’s right mates, i have only met one american on this trip so far and i can’t tell you how quickly i held out my hand to shake his. j, who i met last friday night out with my hostel-see ‘criss crossed in kings cross’ post-is from colorado…hip hip hooray for legalized marijuana! immediately we had an understanding.)
turns out, a sigh of relief and a feeling of home ship (and a few strong vodka drinks in the cross) were what it took for me to realize that i’m not in kansas anymore toto. oh, and a perfect white sandy beach and 33 degree celsius weather (i’ll leave the conversion research up to you) didn’t hurt either.
the busy beach of bondi was covered in people from all over the world. i am certain there were some americans in the crowd, likely lost in translation between taiwan and the netherlands, but it’s pretty cool to be on one beach with so many people all sharing the same purpose…to brown those bums.
stay tuned for my squat challenge update…just kidding…kind of.