I fell out of bed, found my pile of stuff on the floor, put on my bikini, rash vest, wetsuit, and Eddie's watch, then I grabbed my swim-fins, a towel, the keys and my wallet, and let myself out the front door, in my bare feet.  I got my bodyboard out of the garage, the Mike Stewart WPC 41", and drove to the beach.

The sun was up, the surf was 2 to 3 foot, and there weren't many guys out.  So, I locked the car, ran down to the waters' edge and tied my car-key up in my shoelace, which was tying one of my swimfins to my foot.  Just because I can get up at 5:30 in the morning, that doesn't mean my brain can get up at that time in the morning.  Luckily for me, I tied the knot tight enough and the surf wasn't big, so I got to keep both my swim-fin and my car key.

It was an easy paddle out.  I duck-dived a couple of times and found myself in the lineup at 6am.  I said hello to a couple of people, paddled around, caught a few waves, and enjoyed the feel of the sun on my face.  An hour later I caught a wave in, ran up the beach put my gear in the car, arranged a towel on my seat, drove home in my wetsuit, and wondered if I could do it again next week.

(to becontinued)

G'Day Mates! Gestern bin ich meine neue Wohnung in Maroubra eingezogen - hier ist es wundervoll! Ich hab endlich ein eigenes Zimmer und nur noch 15 Minuten Weg zur Uni. Es ist hier im Vergleich zur vorigen Wohnung auch viel ruhiger als in der Stadt. Das Haus ist zweistöckig und voll eingerichtet: Im Wohnzimmer haben wir nen Flachbildfernseher (auf dem wir gerade die Eröffnung der olympischen Spiele anschauen ;-) ) DVD Player und Stereoanlage. In der Küche findet sich alles, was das Herz begehrt inkl. Spülmaschine und Herd mit Ceranfeld! Für die Verhältnisse hier in Down Under ist das purer Luxus.

Ich wohne zusammen mit der Hausbesitzerin, Englischlehrerin, ich nehme an geschieden, denn von einem potentiellen Ehemann keine Spur (hab sie nicht gefragt bisher, außerdem hab ich gehört, dass sie nen Boyfriend hat, weswegen sie auch öfter mal nicht zu Hause übernachtet... Partey!! :D ). Dann wohnt hier noch ein polnisches Pärchen, ausgesprochen nett. Die beiden sind vor 7 Monaten nach Australien gekommen ohne ein Wort Englisch sprechen zu können und sind schon ziemlich gut! War sehr überrascht, als ich das gehört hab. Außer den dreien wohnt hier zur Zeit noch ein Mädel aus Frankreich, das morgen aber auszieht, mal sehen wer dann kommt.

Achja, zum Strand sinds nur 15 min zu Fuß. Da ich immer noch keine Kamera hab (der Laden wo ich die bestellen will hat die gerade nicht vorrätig :( ), hier ein gegoogletes Bild von Maroubra Beach. Bald mehr Fotos!

Kein Bock auf Uni

Es wird viel Arbeit dieses Semester, das ist klar. Zwei meiner Kurse sind ziemlich anspruchsvoll (die beiden Finance Kurse), die anderen beiden werden voraussichtlich nicht so anstrengend. Am interessantesten ist bis jetzt der Entrepreneurship Kurs, in dem wir (fast) jede Woche einen Guest Speaker haben, der von seinen Erfahrungen als Unternehmensgründer berichtet und den man mit fragen Löchern kann.

Was vor allem so unfair ist, ist, dass ich gerade mal einen Monat entspannen konnte, bevor hier die Uni schon weitergeht. Ich würd am liebsten meinen Rucksack packen und sofort das Land erkunden! Aber alles zu seiner Zeit...

UNSW Outdoors Club

Da ich einerseits die Umgebung hier kennen lernen möchte und mich andererseits etwas sportlich betätigen will, hab ich mich letzte Woche beim UNSW Outdoors Club angemeldet. Die Jungs (und Mädels) sind sehr nett, relaxed und very Australian! Letzten Dienstag war semester opening meeting mit free BBQ und Bier für 1 AUD (ca. 60 Euro-Cent) - super! Der Club bietet unter anderem Trips in die nähere (und fernere) Umgebung an wie z.B. Bushwalking, Rock-Climbing, Canyoning oder auch Canoing (das kleine y macht den entscheidenden Unterschied, googlet ruhig mal nach den Begriffen ;-) ) Am letzten Freitag war ich schon mit den Leuten an University of Sydney in der Kletterhalle. Etwas klein und ein wenig heruntergekommen, die Sicherungsseile jedoch sind noch in Takt (schien zumindest so ;) ) und für den ganzen Abend umgerechnet 3 € ist echt günstig. Am Sonntag fahren wir in den Royal National Park, der etwas südlich von Sydney liegt und verbringen dort den ganzen Tag. Bin schon sehr gespannt, das wird nach dem Manly Trip mein erster größerer Ausflug.

letzten Samstag waren wir mit ein paar Exchange-Students in Manly, einem wundervollen Ort mit Strand, Klippen und einer kleinen Einkaufsstraße. Super zum Entspannen und den Nachmittag verbringen. Am besten waren die Klippen, auf einmal stand man vor einem 50 Meter tiefen Abgrund ohne Zaun oder sonstiger Sicherung. Das war echt der Wahnsinn.

Gestern hat die Uni angefangen und ich glaube ich hab ein paar ganz gute Kurse rausgepickt. Die schließen ziemlich genau an das an, was mir in Mannheim besonders gut gefallen hat: Finance und Entrepreneurship. Morgen hab ich noch einen Business-Ethics Kurs. Hier an der Uni sind die Prüfungsgewohnheiten ganz anders als in Mannheim, wo wir am Ende jedes Semesters genau eine Klausur hatten, in dem der ganze Stoff abgefragt wurde. Hier haben wir zwei Exams pro Semester, dann ein Group-Assignment und außerdem zählt mündliche Beteiligung in den Tutorien. Sehr ungewohnt, in Mannheim konnte man sich immer so schön entspannt zurücklehnen.

Ich werde nächste Woche noch mal umziehen und zwar nach Maroubra. Dann hab ich erstens, ein eigenes Zimmer, zweitens, einen kürzeren Weg zur Uni und drittens, den Strand gleich um die Ecke. Juhuu. Leider kostet das Zimmer ziemlich viel, daher werd ich es gut zu schätzen wissen, dort zu wohnen.

Ich bin drauf und dran, mir eine Kamera übers Internet zu bestellen, lange dauert es nicht mehr :)

Dann gibts noch ein paar Fotos von Manly:

[gallery]

Tschüss...

THIS IS MY BROTHER...wayne the wave.I love this photo of wayne,he has alway's had an affinity with the south american vibe,he love's their music,love's their food,oh yeah and love's the girl's there too.

wayne has a beautiful daughter named rachel and she is an amazing person to whom he love's dearly,she has a heart of gold and that is being conservative when I say that about her...our father,dave would have been so proud of her and how rachel has turned out to be,and our Mum doesn't love her enough,they get on fantastic...

anyway back to my bro,I love you buddy,happy 53rd birthday mate,and may you have many more and as they say "life wasn't meant to be easy" and in saying that,shit we could do with a bit of luck to go our way couldn't we...we have our health though and that is good enough for me,well winning lotto wouldn't be too bad though I suppose,If I won a couple of million,don't worry because I would definitely buy you a beer...     

...HAVE A GREAT DAY BRO...your brother baz.

Life is fantastic

And my father would say back to him,christ dad, I wish I had a QUID for everytime you said that one, geeze...this image is of my father...you are truly missed...

Robert Graves once wrote:  love is a universal migraine.

It's interesting to me how frustrating love can be.  Especially dating, for that matter.  I have pretty much settled on the fact that I prefer to stay home and make myself a fabulous dinner and treat myself to an at-home spa treatment than go on some random date.  I'm not into online dating - in fact, I had a match.com profile, off and on, for a few years now, though it's currently expired, and I have yet to meet anyone in person because of it.  And the men of Portland, and perhaps the west coast, for that matter, don't really ask women out on dates.  It's very bizarre.  But I've gotten used to it, I think.

About a month ago, when I was still watching the Redwings in the Stanley Cup playoffs and finals, I met a nice guy who recently moved to Portland.  In any case, he asked me out.  He seemed like a nice guy, so I accepted.  He texted me to chose a movie - anything but Sex & the City.  Easy.  So I came up with this interesting list - including Bra Boys, a film about the cultural evolution of the Sydney beach suburb of Maroubra, and the struggle of its notorious surf gang, a tatoo-clad group of surfer rebel rousers known as the Bra Boys, narrated by Russel Crowe.  My other choice was Grand Canyon Adventure: River at Risk, about the declining Colorado River filmed and experienced by writer-antropologist Wade Davis and world-renowned river advocate Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., accompanied by their daughters Kick Kennedy and Tara Davis, with the score by the Dave Matthews Band and narration by Robert Redford.  It was playing at the IMAX Theater at OMSI.  Grand Canyon Adventure won!

I met this guy at OMSI at 7:30 and we picked up our tickets for the 9:00 p.m. show.  We walked around the Water Street industrial neighborhood and settled on Clark Lewis's tiki-like bar for a place to sit and imbibe on something before the show.  I had a Maker's Manhattan.  Disappointingly, there was a maraschino cherry, which I think is gross.  I was hoping for an amaretto cherry.  The cocktail was very average, but the bartender, Jordan, was very charming and engaging.  After a nice conversation with my date, we walked back to OMSI and headed in to the movie.

I have to say, I loved the film.  When we first entered the IMAX theater I felt a little dizzy.  It was kind of weird, a little like Vertigo (ooh - that Hitchcock classic is actually playing at a cool art house movie theater downtown, which I'd like to go see).  I digress.  Anyway.  Once the film started, I was mesmerized.  The Grand Canyon is just amazing.  I can't get over the way ancient river flow sculpted and carved out that incredible landscape.  Watching this group make their way down guided down the Colorado made me want to go rafting!  What a wild life experience!  They say a river like that challenges you, changes you and makes you a little tougher, makes you appreciate life a little more, makes you connect with the river in a very spiritual way.

It's shocking how much water loss this river has endured.  It was interesting to see old photos, the first taken of the Colorado River's run and current views of those same frames, now depleted and eerily changed.  I loved the native American thread.  And I was just moved to want to do my part to conserve water, to think about my impact on the environment and to develop my love of natural waters in our world.  Further, I am eager to go white water rafting.  I would love to experience the magic and thrill of the Colorado as it runs through the Grand Canyon, but I think I'll start somewhere up here first  - perhaps the Deschutes near Bend or the Rogue near Grant's Pass.

Summer's here.  Perhaps a trip is in order. 

It was a nice date, which appropriately ended with a hug.  It's too early for me to feel a connection yet.  I don't date, after all.  And I am much obliged for developing friendships with good guys at this point.  I am in no rush to fall for someone without thoughtful consideration and really getting to know him.  It's so important to take things slow.  I'm not interested in diving into anything right now, except for maybe a big, ole river!  Anyway, I'd definitely go out with him again, but I am also interested in getting to know other potential migraine enducers out there.

Meantime, the movie was over under an hour and I got home at a nice and reasonable hour, which was pretty cool.  I had minimal sleep each night this week and I was exhausted.  I was glad to make myself a cup of Yogi chamomile tea.  The back of the box suggests "Let the worries of the day float away as you sit with a cup of our organic Chamomile tea."  In addition to enducing relaxation, allowing you to unwind after a stressful day, drift into a restful sleep, east minor menstrual cramps or occasional stomach discomfort.  I was hoping it would help me drift into a restful sleep tonight.

The fortune on the tea bag read:  there is nothing more precious than the self.

As I began to let the worries of my day float away and relaxed with the happiness I usually feel when it's warm and sunny out or when it's the start of a weekend, I contemplated love once more.  Especially self love, which, as Yogi Tea man Yogi Bhajan suggests is the most precious thing.  I contemplated my ongoing thoughts about dating, or really, about love - about finding love in all of its manifestations!  About finding true love.  And Graves' poem, Symptoms of Love, concludes: 

Take courage, lover!
Could you endure such grief
At any hand but hers?

I suppose when you find the right love - whatever that symbolically means in your life, or if it's literally about finding love, I suppose when it's under the right terms or when you've found the right person, then it really is worth the migraines, the grief and any other symptom that requires you to courageously carry on.

Meantime, I curled up with my cat India on the sofa, while Capri napped solo on her favorite fleece blanket of mine, folded on the leather love seat, and watched an old episode of Sex & the City.

How much of an actual focal point do you need to retain interest?

I spent Sunday afternoon at Santa Monica beach (something I do frequently on Sunday afternoons), and let me just say: this is one of the most unique and complicated places you can encounter. The twin beach towns of Santa Monica and Venice (about 15 miles west of downtown Los Angeles) make up a unique beach community that stands out among a coastline of “stand out” beach towns. Something about the combination of people (tourists, hippie locals, every ethnicity imaginable, celebrities, vagrants), material environment (art deco architecture, open air promenades, seagulls, cheesy tourist shops), and history (Route 66, the pier, the legendary surf/skateboard communities of the 60s/70s) make this a place with (seemingly) more character than a lot of places. But in the end, aren’t all places equally complicated and unique? What defines a “unique” location? Is a Kansas farmtown any less complex and character-filled than Paris or Shanghai? I was wondering these things as I was at the beach.

Fittingly, I decided to catch a movie at the beachfront arts theater—a documentary called Bra Boys. I say fittingly, because this is a documentary that addresses the question of place very directly and engagingly. In this film (which I highly recommend), the ostensible subject is a group of ragtag Australian hoodlums/surfer dudes nicknamed “Bra Boys.” They are a multi-ethnic gang (or “tribe,” as Australian surfer gangs are often labeled) made up of troubled teens/twentysomethings, thick-necked rugby players, and a few professional surfers (Koby Abberton, most notably). They are joined by a love of surfing, fraternity spirit (they all have “Bra Boys” tattoos), and the fact that they all live and surf the beach waves of Sydney suburb Maroubra. And in the end, this film is not so much about its characters or even the sport of surfing (though it is about this), but rather it is about Maroubra—a place quite unlike any other.

Narrator Russell Crowe makes this clear from the get go, as the film begins with an extended narrative montage of the history of Maroubra—from the colonial days (New South Wales was created, as we know, to be a massive prison for exiles of the Empire) to the relatively recent (1990s-onward) problems of gang violence. From there the film expands into a full-fledged, beautifully-rendered portrait of a very rough, very tight-knit community. It’s also a very personal portrait, as the film is directed by a Bra Boy and Maroubra native, Sunny Abberton (who, along with his brothers Jai and Koby, are the film’s chief character subjects).

Maroubra has had a difficult history, with a lot going against it from very early on. The town is flanked on its three non-ocean sides by a massive prison (Long Bay Jail), the biggest sewage plant in the southern hemisphere, and a rifle range. It’s also a hotbed for low-income public housing, drugs, broken families, and violence (stabbings, shootings, beatings) of all kinds. Out of this overlooked neighborhood (and others like it along the suburban Sydney coast) arose territorial surfer tribes/gangs—more violent, testosterone-filled versions of Santa Monica’s legendary “Z Boys”—who fight each other and defend their communities with vicious tenacity.

Bra Boys is fascinating in its exposure of a strident localism that is little-seen in our increasingly “flat,” globalized world. Maroubra is a place well-defined by its people and history, bound by the driving pastime of surfing on its expansive beaches. Indeed, without surfing, this roughshod neighborhood might collapse in on itself—its residents bound to cycles of poverty, drugs, and incarceration. Instead, it is a place that—through surfing and community—motivates its underprivileged youngsters to rise above their circumstances (almost all of the Bra boys are fatherless, for example) and make something of themselves. I suppose it is an intrinsic logic of any place to find productive outlets wherein the circumstantial disadvantages of its citizens can be overcome, but Bra Boys makes the argument that Maroubra does it better than most.

I’m not sure the film works as an argument for the virtues of Maroubra as a socializing force, but it definitely works as a compelling snapshot of a specific place and culture. There’s something powerful about the singularity of Maroubra’s character—fueled by a common love (surfing) and common enemy (its own fierce localism). Places, I think, are stronger when they have a shared, clear identity, when disparate forces and the dangers of diversity don’t undermine but rather enhance a collective goal or telos. I’m not sure how many Maroubras there are left on earth—or even if we need them anymore. But it’s nice to see one so alive and functional, even if the observance seems somewhat elegiac.

Ever since seeing Bra Boys, I've thought that the best way for Russell Crowe, the film's executive producer, to deepen his understanding of the North Maroubra mob would be to learn how to surf there. He might, like the surfer I saw last summer, get headbutted. It's no mean feat to headbutt someone else while sitting on your surfboard, but on a crowded, bad-tempered Saturday morning kindergarten behaviour can be the norm.

Or Russell might find himself the object of derision, abuse and bullying, not for breaking some surf rule but simply for being there.

Example: heated exchange in Maroubra surf last summer:

"What else was I meant to do?"

"Surf at some other beach."

Or, if Russell tried to enjoy what he thought was a gift from nature, an hour in the waves at a public beach, he might cop the Tough Guy Sulk. This happens when the Maroubra man, annoyed that Beginner (or "Kook") Russell has dared sully the sacred water, paddles away, splashing in frustration and grizzling like Muttley.

Maroubra can be a narky, nasty place. And not one of the locals would be unhappy to hear Russell say it. The waves of North Maroubra are home to some serious - and seriously bad-tempered - surfers who can pout and whinge and carry on like Naomi Campbell.

Nor should Kook Russell believe the guff about following the honoured rules of the surf: the North Maroubra element are equally likely to shout at someone for sinning or being sinned against. Merely being there is the transgression and someone like Kook Russell, with his $1000 board, his taste for cafe latte and his four-wheel-drive from whatever non-local yuppie ghetto he blows in from, ticks all the boxes on what the Bra Boys and their fellow travellers hate most. If they didn't recognise him, they'd beat his head in. Of course, if this were all true, the Maroubra element would have their way and no Kook Rusties would go there. The trouble for them is: it's not true. There are plenty of beginners there. Stop press: there are female surfers, too.

At North Maroubra, even on a muggy Saturday hangover morning when a glassy two-foot swell is pulling everyone on to a single peak at the Toilet Bowl (the break in front of the big concrete drain, named in honour of the old outfall days), you're just as likely to have a local surfer come up and say what a ripper day it is.

I've seen headbutting, shouting and sulking there; I've seen 40-year-olds behave like four-year-olds, as if the wave they've just missed is the only wave in the world, but I've also seen spontaneous peace break out among perfect strangers.

As soon as you settle on a stereotype of the Maroubra troglodyte, some open-faced, smiling soul surfer will come along and bust it.

Surf cultures, like all suburban cultures, both invite and resist stereotyping. From Palm Beach to Cronulla, Sydney has more than 30 distinct beach and reef breaks. Every one has its identity.

Dee Why surfer Sean Doherty, the long-serving editor of Tracks magazine, squares off lightheartedly against his Bondi-based deputy, Luke Kennedy, over north versus south. Kennedy says of Bondi: "Where else can you get a great coffee, meet a good-looking girl, see a band, have a good conversation and get some waves in the one place?" Which a lot of people think summarises all that is wrong with Bondi. Doherty says: "We have heated debates about this - when Luke can pull himself away from his Sydney Morning Herald and his cafe latte. At Dee Why point and North Narrabeen, we have world-class waves and the surfers here are pretty protective. This is where you find the last remnants of the surf-animal culture - surfers who are born here, live here and will be taken out of here in a pine box."

At Manly, serious surfers are almost comical in their assertion of local subculture, Doherty says. "They'll say there's a different vibe at Queenscliff, North Steyne, South Steyne, Fairy Bower - 47 different subcultures in a one-kilometre beach."

South of the harbour, Bondi is the whipping boy. "Maroubra surfers take pleasure in writing Bondi off and say that they're the ones who are keeping it real," Kennedy says. "But the forces of gentrification are far more powerful than the forces of aggressive localism." Gentrification, and the inevitable dilution of territorialism, is nothing to be afraid of, Kennedy believes. "I grew up in Bondi when it was the Bronx by the sea, and although it can get frustrating with vast numbers of learners in the water, it's all added to the culture of the place and you will still get good waves," he says. "It's given rise to the Bondi Boardriders' Club, which takes over the southern hill once a month for a surf contest and a great day that solidifies the culture and community."

To the north, Avalon gets a tickle-up as "fashionable people, well-to-do, better-mannered surfers" (Doherty), "the land of milk and honey" (Kennedy). To the south, Cronulla is "definitely different - hard-core, more traditional Anglo-Saxon, and an intense surfing experience because of the number of accessible reef breaks" (Kennedy).

Then there are places such as "Deadmans" behind Fairy Bower and "Ours", south of Maroubra, which only break in massive swells and are the preserve of the most experienced and daring surfers. Ours was the scene of a confrontation between some Maroubra surfers and pro bodyboarders during the epic run of swells last winter.

Beaches have different nuances because of the type of break they present. Point and reef breaks such as Dee Why, Long Reef, Fairy Bower and Bronte Reef have a competitive atmosphere because the waves grind over rocks and success is all to do with positioning. Open beachbreaks such as Curl Curl, Elouera and Maroubra can spread surfers out and make for a more relaxed atmosphere. "Curl Curl can give you the illusion of space, being out in the country," Doherty says.

"Open, less-populated beaches like Curl Curl and Maroubra are utilitarian places," says Don Norris, founder of realsurf.com, "where you go down there to surf, not to do anything else, and they attract what I'd call a more utilitarian kind of surfer."

One factor that has revolutionised surf culture in recent years is the availability of online surf forecasts, reports and webcams. Coastalwatch.com and swellnet.com.au have cameras on several beaches as well as sophisticated forecasting, and realsurf.com collects a range of daily reports from locals inside and outside Sydney.

This means surfers such as Doherty, who lives a few steps from Dee Why, have lost some of their competitive advantage. "I used to be able to go and have a look at dawn and get out there on my own, but now the car park will be half-full because everyone's already had a look online," he says.

Norris's realsurf.com is the longest-running of the local websites, and while he says each beach has its own cultural themes, he is equally fascinated by the cultural differences between the times of day when people surf. "People who go for the daybreak surf have a kind of Spartan discipline," he says. "It's hard to see the crack of dawn appealing to sybarites, so what you have in the early surf is a really serious bunch." The mid-morning surf, after nine o'clock, is what Norris calls the gentlemen's hour. "You've had a coffee, you might have dropped your kids at school, the vibe is mellower, and there aren't as many in the water," he says. Lunchtime is what Norris calls the tradies' hour, when some people have a lunch-hour surf. "They're all business - in, out, gone." Afternoon brings out the students and then there is the late surf. A magic time, Norris says.

Every surfer has that thought at the back of their mind: my time at last. It can be a forlorn hope, but living in hope is what surfing is all about.

No matter what the beach, or what the time of day, you are apt to be approached by someone who has just had that hope fulfilled and can't help sharing it, like the surfer who paddled up to me and said: "Getting a few? What a great day!" And that was at Maroubra.

He'd better not act too happy, or someone might headbutt him.

This story was found at: http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2008/01/10/1199554833018.html

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na szóval itt akartunk mi belógni egy házibuliba.

legközelebb mielőtt megérkezem valahova azért utánaolvasok :D

egyik srác, akivel ma kimentem szörfözni pilóta, annyira részeg hogy beszélni is nehezére esik, azt magyarázza, hogy simán merevre issza magát munka előtt, csak arra kell figyelni, hogy felszállás előtt nyolc órával hagyja abba.

mutatja a karóráján hány óra van hátra de nem nagyon tudja követni a számokat, pár perc után feladja.

ezek olyan dolgok amiket asszem jobb lett volna nem tudni.

 

Maroubra strand

 

Kysten

Så dér gik sommeren. Det gik stærkt. På universitetet falder bladene af nogle af træerne og ligger gulbrune i græsset. De fleste træer er dog stedsegrønne, og mange taber bladende løbende gennem hele året. Der er også nogle træer der bare ligner kæmpe ananas.

 
Der er ingen flokke af fugle der flyver i V-form mod sydlige himmelstrøg.
Kun de sædvanlige måger som hænger ud på klipperne i Maroubra.
Alligevel kan man dufte og fornemme at det er efterår.

 

Det sædvanlige slæng

 

Australsk måge. Bemærk prikkerne

 

Mågernes bud på Olsen banden

 

"BØH!" går aldrig af mode

 
Maroubra's rå kyst består af høje klipper der udgør en abrupt kant, og nedenfor dem et flad klippebund og store sten. Det flade stykke overrisles hver gang bølgerne slår ind mod kysten. I de utallige klippevandhuller bor der krabber, søstjerner, koralplanter og sommetider små fisk.

Maroubra strand er fuld af fanatiske surfere, der hænger ud i vandet i spændt venten på den perfekte bølge. Maroubra er én af de bedste surfstrande i Sydney.

 

Spændt venten

 

Surferne elsker Maroubra's bølger

The Mahon Pool er Maroubra's seawater pool. Dem er der mange af i Sydney. De er meget populære fordi man kan svømme beskyttet imod de vildeste bølger, men alligevel nyde havet med hvad det indebærer af liv og sjov og solbadning på klipperne. Seawater pools indeholder fisk og krabber og hvad der ellers måtte snige sig i, og bølger skyller ind over kanten.

 

The Mahon Pool på en solrig efterårsdag

 
Det var så lidt om Maroubra.

 
Udsigt fra altanen på en solskinsdag... en af grundende til at vi er så vilde med denne lille lejlighed. Udsigten er væk fra stranden, ind imod Sydney.

Maroubra er en strand-forstad øst for Sydney, ikke langt fra de populære strande Coogee og Bondi der er mere turist prægede og badevenlige. Maroubra strand er mest for surfere; bølgerne er meget stærke og der er ikke mange som bader på denne tid af året (det er forår nu). Her er dog en havvandspool, Mahon Pool, som er en fredfuld natur swimmingpool i klipperne.
Boligblokke er ikke så udbredte som vi er vant til hjemmefra, men dog ikke ualmindelige her ved stranden. Vi bor i en lille boligblok med 7 lejligheder.

 
Husene virker mere europæiske her i Maroubra og andre af Sydneys strandforstæder end de typisk gør når man kommer væk fra kysten. Typiske traditionelle, ældre huse i Sydney er lave, mørke og aflange (smal facade ud mod vejen) med en flot dekoret facade, en veranda foran huset og et kunstfædigt gitterhegn. Ofte også med dekorative flisemønstre foran huset. Vi syntes det var lidt for groft bare at stille sig op og fotografere folks private huse, så der er ikke noget billede pt. Lidt for zoologisk have agtigt. Det kommer måske.

Maroubra by night fra altanen.

 
Solopgang... Clau tog dette billede på stranden en tidlig morgen.

 
Maroubra strand, lidt senere.