i have crabs

it's a hot humid february morning already in the mid north coast, NSW. the sun has only just risen.

waking in the cloistered confines of a tent, the sense of urgency to be cleansed is overwhelming. i can hear the call of the sea from where i am uncomfortably sprawled on the yoga mat. it is glued to my skin.

the beach is a one minute run over the dunes. save for souvenir tracks which lie in the wake of the park ranger, the beach appears to be empty.

after lying on the sand savoring the fresh saltiness of a morning swim, i roll over. the sensation of being watched is overwhelming. but it's not the hills that have eyes... it's the sand!

there are little sand crabs everywhere. timidly peeking out they scuttle forth to clean out freshly fallen sand from their burrows. like proud housewives they dance in unison timorously flicking debri from subterranean homes with industrious efficiency.

naturally i become quite excited. the only bummer is, i don't really have the right lens on me. the crabs are shy. whenever i move they hide. i snap away like a happy little sniper regardless, squealing like a little pig.

who's worse: me or the gull? quite the dilemma.

i leave. the deserted beach stares at me mockingly. a thousand pairs of eyes on my back.

a fine romance

a fine romance, my good fellow

you take romance, and I'll take jello

you're calmer than the seals

in the arctic ocean

at least they flap their fins

to express emotion

a fine romance with no quarrels

with no insults and all morals

i've never mussed the crease

in your blue serge pants

i never get the chance

this is a fine romance

fush n chup heaven

being a "kiwi" by birth, fish and chips are my soul food. for instant comfort zone all i need is a hot newsprint package with a hole torn in the side whilst my sticky little greased up fat fingers fight the heat & pungent fumes to oil slick up my greedy mouth and lips.... aaah, heaven. just add tomato sauce and stir.

increasingly it's becoming difficult to actually capture the perfect mix. and as an afficionado of such matters, my experienced taste buds, finicky pseudo vegetarian oil cooking requirements [yes, some people still cook in lard, i've even come across whale fat before] and eye usually baulk at what is on offer in sydney. however there are a few rebel chippies which buck this trend, most notably the original fish and chip co based on glenayr ave on the lazy back streets beyond the shiny hub of the beach itself.

they deliver to puritanical pilgrims like myself fish and chip perfection. it's not until i finish licking the last snail trail of delightfully salted grease from my fingers, like a neanderthal desperately sucking marrow from a bone that i remember something grossly inconvenient. this is deeply considered whilst sculling something artificial and fizzy in a can. the whole reason i'm on a month long sabbatical from alcohol in some unlikely kudos wager [at this time of year] with friend and fellow punk monk ky is that i seem to have mysteriously lost my waistline.

"world famous in bondi" <-- to find the original fish and chip co just follow the sexy skanky sound trail of bob marley wailing out onto the streets from the dim eames lamp-lit interior which cast shadows onto retro aqua blue wallpaper which blanket the red formica tables.

it seems a shame to leave. if only i could stay here for every meal. but then the image of gilbert grape's mother come to mind...

original fish and chip co

163 glenayr ave

bondi beach

fried sushi love

bondi beach has fried mars bars. ashfield has fried sushi. and boy do they do it in style.

after a morning of perusing car sales yards admiring 4WDs this is where stevie & i found ourselves on the eternal quest for the perfect fish 'n' chips before we left hurredly accompanied by dolly parton singing "joelene" blaring from our newly acquired rust-ridden to-be-gaffered-together mountain meets production landcruiser bundeena wheels.

needless to say, we're still looking for the perfect chippie but if there was a quintessential golden fried sushi vendor this would have to be it... it's a tough niche to fill.

on meds

icebergs. on bondi beach. instead of cough medicine, flanelette & bed. bloody marys are strangely restorative as is fine company, the view & fresh salty sea air.