Bondi Review: the bondi contradiction

Have you ever been in the ocean all day, or bounced on a trampoline for hours, then when you go to sleep that night you can still feel all the motions, as if you were still there? That's what my Bondi experience was like. My body got used to the embrace, and I'm having a sort of phantom withdrawal.

'What is Bondi?'
The truth is, I'm not really qualified to answer that, because I didn't really see all that much of it, but truthfully, it doesn't really matter.

I spent a weekend there that went a little too quickly and was a little too brief.
What is Bondi? Bondi is just a place, albeit a place peppered with interesting characters, but a place that doesn't feel like it's on Earth; ironic for a place obsessed with surface. Double the shirtless men you'd find at St Kilda, half the bicycle helmets, and all the organic, raw and/or vegan products than you can shake your jam jar milkshake at.

I felt like little Alice at the Mad Hatter's tea party, almost like this stellar weekend was a sitch in time that only existed within the realm of Bondi, and nowhere else acknowledged it's occurrence. Surreal, it was surreal.

If a wave crashes in Bondi, does the world know it happened? Or to put it simply: The Bondi Contradiction.

They say that people make the experience, and my stupidly positive review is a product of my company. Bondi is a place where you can practically go nowhere with someone, see basically nothing together, but somehow still define the place as something exotic, alien and charming in it's casualness. The Bondi Contradiction in solid form.

I was licked with cold, well-spaced rain in warm, humid air as lightning scattered locals and tourists alike, with the added persistent assistance of the 'if you drown, you can only blame yourself' attitude booming from megaphones held by retreating lifeguards. Yep, Bondi is a strange, amazing place; a portmanteauown that both tickles me with potential and leaves me feeling like I'm not missing anything at all. The Bondi Contradiction leaves me with a thought: were it not for the real world, I might forget about leaving.

There's only one reason to go back, and it's the same reason I wouldn't; it all depends on whether or not I'm invited. The Bondi Contradiction's presence is felt once again.





Bondi, where beach rules apply: leave everything how you found it, take everything you brought. 


Ciaoabunga