Supermassive black hole: Bondi :Sunday 02.11

As expected Sunday morning was not my most productive and Ginge's bed received the full brunt of my jet lagged (hungover...) form.

By 13:30 the desire for productivity was creeping over me and I was aware I was due to change hostels. (Half price alternative: seedier location)

After a quick (useless) debrief with 'I remember nothing' Ginge; I jumped back on el buso with a recovery Orangegina (bro ho ;)) to my hostel.

Mr Boston was still in his bunk questioning my antics and requesting to take my much in-demand bottom, by window bunk when I checked out. I graciously offered it over- unslept and unsoiled. Unfortunately due to my 8 hours late attempt to check out, the hostel had proactively (money grabbing scoundrels) booked me in for a 2nd night: I was hanging, it was a nice hostel, I couldn't be arsed, they didn't receive the wrath.

Retiring back to my room Mr Boston was already firmly encompassed within my bed (literally 2 mins I has been away) refusing his offer of joining him 'to chill'- I dumped my backpack down and headed back out on the tube to meet Ginge again. Alcohol ban firmly in place.

The plan in place was to head to Bondi Beach,perv, I mean observe some surfers and take an afternoon stroll around the 6km cliff edge, sculptures by the sea exhibit. Cultured exercise at it's finest.

In reality it was 15:30, the sun was shining, we were both hanging and it was packed, literally packed full of half naked and badly dressed bodies. A 6km walk, whilst hangover beneficial, would require persevering with old shufflers and annoying children; vodka does not tolerate this. Executive decision made (by myself, Ginge will forever be a faffer) to refuel with a burger, sunbathe and shoreline stroll instead. Perfect sunday.

Lessons learnt from my short time in Bondi:

1: shoes are optional EVERYWHERE... Shopping, walking the dog, running. waiters, sales staff, old people shoeless. LOTR has a lot to answer for with these hobbit wannabes
2: the street signs are awesome... Stating the bloody obvious,directing the pointless or just plain bizarre - I'm photographing the ones that particularly make me chuckle.
3: dress sense... Aussies are notoriously bad dressers but Bondi just a little bit more so... some gems were spied and added to the photos
4: surfers... Like Disney princes, and fairy tale endings, the hot Aussie surfer expectation is seriously unfulfilled- more bobfocs than Bondi beach rescue.
5: the Food... Is good.... Massive Waygu burgers, Thai deli's, Lebanese, Turkish, seafood... the choice was endless and all reasonabley priced.

I liked Bondi, it wasn't pretentious (like I'd been told) it is what it should be; popular yet laid back, easy, carefree attitude which is evident from the people, staff, food served and the lack of shoes .... I'm heading back there Friday to finish my artistic exercise.

Sunday ended with my return to the hostel for my first night in the dorm and not on a floor... Whoop.

Settled in Mr Boston's top bunk (him not present) I drifted off to sleep to the sweet sound of 7 snoring men in an acapello rhythm; crescendoing with Mr French (bunk below) emitting the most foulest, loudest trumps (and I lived with Jked) throughout the night. I could have slept through this, however on each occasion Mr Boston sprang from his (my) bed, like a shot soldier, shouting out (asleep or awake remains unanswered) 'who is that farting??'. Nob.