Third day in a land down under

 

A quiet Thursday afternoon on Bondi Beach, Sydney's best-kept secret 

Day Three began, naturally, with breakfast in the first floor restaurant of the hotel, and another attempt at understanding the popularity of Vegemite. Despite heeding local advice by applying a thinner amount on top of butter, my facial reaction implies that I had given the spread sufficient opportunity in an unsuccessful attempt to present its case:

Those of you who had read the previous post were left hanging on a cliff: would my wife ever see her backpack again after having left it on a bus in the Newtown area? Time to end the suspense - the answer was "yes"! Shu-E had been able to track her AirPods (which had been in the backpack) on her mobile phone, which suggested they were at a bus depot. A phone call to said depot following breakfast confirmed the bag was indeed with the lost property office, having been brought there just before the end of the business day on Wednesday (which is why we hadn't been informed yet). An Uber ride from our hotel to the depot soon saw my wife reunited with her backpack, and more importantly, with all the contents within, especially her passports. Vacation saved!

Safe with the knowledge that we wouldn't have to visit the U.S. Consulate in Sydney (and, more importantly, not have to deal with the Chinese authorities over Shu-E's visa), and with the day's weather forecast calling for sunshine and warm temperatures, we took another Uber from the depot to Bondi Beach, the closest ocean beach to Sydney's city center (only 5 miles/8 kilometers away). First stop once we got there was a visit to a tourist tat shop to buy a beach mat and a couple of towels. We passed on the boomerangs:

It was still morning when we arrived in Bondi, but the great weather and the Christmas school holidays ensured quite the turnout in the town, on the sand and in the water:

 

Surfers rule the waves on Bondi in more ways than one, meaning the swimming area (the patch of sand between the red and yellow flags) was surprisingly narrow. The 90 minutes I spent frolicking in the water (yes, I have been known to frolic) involved making sure the current wasn't pulling me away from the swimming zone, while also trying not to collide with the many others in the water around me. The waves were surprisingly high (well, maybe not that surprising considering all the surfers out that day), but also a lot of fun, bringing back memories of an adolescence spent on southern California beaches, diving into the waves just before they broke. Check me out, Sheilas!:

My daughter also went for a short dip in the ocean, but spent much of her time walking around and taking photos, like these two below. The sun-averse Shu-E preferred to remain on the beach mat, sheltering in place under the cover of the portable umbrella I usually carry in my backpack (you know, the bag I didn't leave on a bus the previous day):

For lunch we went to one of the many crowded, somewhat expensive spots close to the beach. I don't recall why I was gesturing this way, but I do find it increasingly difficult these days to hear spoken voices clearly, especially when in lively settings:

My lunch order was a lamb rump jus:

Following lunch the three of started walking south:

My wife records the Bondi Beach and Pacific Ocean scenery on her phone. Most of the photographs I take end up on this blog; what she does with her pics remains a mystery:

The Icebergs Pool, one of many saltwater pools in the greater Sydney area:

Unlike this young woman, Shu-E prefers to take selfies in these locations, rather than relying on her man:

The walking path took us past several small but scenic beaches, including Tamarama and Bronte:

The oldest surf lifesaving club in the world:

The path continued on towards Coogee, but for us the walk ended at Waverley Cemetery, where many locals would die for the fantastic ocean views. Established in 1877, the slopes are home to more than 80,000 internees, including several Aussies of note (none of whom, alas, I knew of, with one notable exception):

The girls admire the scenery:

The "98" Memorial:

Yes, that Malcom Young: 

My wife and I were in Hualien 花蓮, visiting Taroko Gorge 太魯閣, when the bombings took place:

The grave of Wee Davie:

From the cemetery we took yet another Uber, this time to return to our hotel. For dinner, it was a very short walk from The Sydney Boulevard Hotel to Toki Italian Inspired, where I dined on New Bolognese spaghetti, washed down with a Little Creatures beer:

Back in our room on the 21st floor, our reward for a nice day out at the seaside (not to mention the safe recovery of Shu-E's backpack) was this beautiful sunset scene, courtesy of Amber and her phone camera:

The Sydney song for this post is an Oz rock classic by Cold Chisel: