There's a bit of everything happening at Bondi, joggers, skateboarders, international tourists and about half a dozen swimmers doing a lap or two of the beach. My husband and our 10 year old encourage me to get in, I appreciate their supportiveness. There will be a happier wife, and for the kids, a more agreeable mother which will bring a higher chance of Maccas on the way home. I'm not sure what their motivation is, I appreciate their encouragement either way.
No wetsuit but I don't need one. I smile underwater, swim past the famous life guard tower, past the pavilion, past both of the flags. I take a breath on the other side and don't expect to see the commercial jets so surprisingly close. I need to swim solidly and strongly to make progress and I do, l touch the rocks at the northern end, turn around and start swimming back. The return swim is a bit harder against the wind. When I'm almost back to the other end there's a fishing line, attached to a fishing rod, held by a fisher man between me and the rocks at the southern end of the beach. Close enough isn't going to be good enough today, I hop out, walk under the apex of the fishing line and the rod and then dive back in to swim the last twenty metres so that I can touch the rocks and complete my lap of Bondi.
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AuthorKirrilee Archives
September 2018
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