Days nineteen to twenty 28/11/11 to 29/11/11
I can’t remember the order that things happened over the next couple of days. I do know however that the weather finally cleared up and we actually had something we’d recognise as Australian summer weather. Considering how low our spirits still were after the bad news we’d received it did go some way to picking us up. We did also get told some of the shows would still be going ahead and we weren’t quite as stranded and we’d first thought. Thank fuck.
With a few days off before travelling to Melbourne we decided to take a band visit to the beach. As you can imagine this is not our natural habitat and we were somewhat unprepared. I have been to Sydney before and had visited Bondi beach. The locals think of this as the main tourist beach, usually full or drunken Irish guys getting caught in rip tides and posing men and women flexing their bronzed bodies so we decided to go to one of the smaller ones....something a little more underground. What we didn’t think about was that once we got to this cooler, quieter beach there’d be no shops....and we had no beach type stuff so ended up walking in heavy black clothes a couple of miles to Bondi to get to the beach shops. Asking the sales assistant for the cheapest shorts, towels and sun cream they sold they walked onto Sydney’s main tourist beach, horrifically white or flesh, squinty of eye and decked out in bargain basement garb. Cool dudes.
With only the smallest fear of sharks, jellyfish and stingrays Si and I plunged into the surprisingly cold water and spent an hour playing around like little kids, getting flattened by waves, getting in the way of surfers and inhaling a good deal of water. I haven’t been in the sea for years and years and I have to say i can see the appeal right away of having such simple, healthy, free fun on your doorstep. Lamont agrees, but admits Brighton beach right by his house is not quite the same.
After noticing we were starting to go a little pink despite slapping on layer after layer of sun cream we head back home only to discover that in the shade that ‘slight pink’ looks more like 3rd degree burns. James has it the worst with a pink front and white back with a perfect line where the two colours meet down his side. Si dubs him ‘Crab-Stick Boy’.
On the bus on the way home I look down at my newly aquired shorts and wonder if they were the right choice. I ask Lamont what he thinks of them. His response? "Oh for fuck's sake Jon, for 5 wonderful minutes i forgot i was hanging around with a bloke wearing those disgusting shorts." Where did i put that receipt?
Also on one of these sunny days we get invited to a roof top BBQ over looking the city. The guys who invite us are hairdressers so as well as a bloody good feed we all get freshly trimmed up for the rest of the tour ahead. Thank you kind, unnamed hosts.