and finally..

And if you go all the way to Maroubra ( a beach I think of as a poor man's Bondi) there is one more saltwater pool, just as you get there. 

south coogee

If you walk south along the coastal path, rather than the much more usual Bondi to Coogee affair,  you ultimately reach Maroubra (although you have to do an unpleasant stretch of the Malabar Road to get there). But if you just do the first bit you can see all the fancy houses facing the sea on this side of Coogee Bay, and also this cute little, almost family-sized saltwater pool, worn out of the rocks. Pretty well vanishes, or at least gets quite dangerous, at spring high tides. 

wylies

And, then, almost next door, the amazing Wylies. I love this place, don't quite know why as you have to pay to sit on concrete amongst rocks rather than on sand; but it has a very immediate relationship with the ocean in all its various guises, and the generally eccentric regulars make it a great place for people-watching. 

women's pool

And then a women's only open air pool (you will have to come to Sydney - and be female - to see it properly).

back to work

As lots of people have noted, I have been better for some considerable time - and have done many enjoyable things - so need to get back to work on this blog (have been trying to use ongoing problems with bandwidth also as an excuse but, really, doesn't wash).

Just as crucially, the weather has moved decisively into autumn since my last post, which makes the catching up even more obvious. Nonetheless, I am going to continue my postings as originally planned: so please enjoy some photos of the one of the great glories of the Eastern Suburbs - its saltwater pools. I have shown St Giles already, so next the small one on the other, southern corner of Coogee Bay.

rough

Meanwhile, the ocean at Coogee  is not behaving as normal. The small island in the middle of the bay usually acts as a kind of breakwater, making the incoming waves friendly and unsurfable. But with a seemingly endless stream of tropical-style storms, the waves are up - crashing into the beach with a previously unseen fury. Surfers have arrived and the usually protected Giles baths is foamy and turbulent. Additional fun for all. 

that gym thing

Have never really been a gym person. Severely put off by those serried ranks of peculiar machines; and the whole artificiality of running on the spot and using headphones to block out what little external stimuli there is in a gym - when there is whole wide world to enjoy outside, full of the unexpected incidents you get in the company of real people going about their everyday lives.

In Sydney this seems pushed to an extreme; exercise is nothing if you don't work yourself to the absolute limit. There were a couple on the beach yesterday dragging huge weights on ropes strapped to their chests backwards and forwards across the sand, like some kind of ancient Roman prisoners-of-war, whilst their personal trainer idly texted his friends on his phone. And when I attempted a gym class two weeks ago, billing itself as a pilates-yoga-taichi mix, we plummeted nonstop from one heavyweight move to another - "going all the way" - in time to very loud disco music ( tai chi - disco, who would have thought it?)

But have finally stumbled on the perfect class. It is twice a week for old codgers - the over 50s. We do serious interval training, but combined with idle chat and a lot of laughing; a recognition of both the absurdity and necessity of getting fit as your body begins to get grumpy and uncooperative.



I have just remembered. I also used to hate 'quiet and slow' activities. I thought yoga and tai chi were for wimps, and threw myself around the squash court instead.