Night at the Pool

Every beach in Sydney has a large concrete pool, fed by the ocean, bashed by the ocean, right on the edge of the ocean, where you can go for a swim without being thrown about in the surf. You go down there any time of the morning day or evening and there are old folks, young folks, kids—there'a very shallow kiddie pool. Three shots.

Surf Fishing and Cunjavoi

Christine and I went to Fishermans Beach two evenings ago. The tide was very low, and a huge, flat section of what is usually sea-floor was exposed. Christine noticed gaping, purplish mouth-like things attached to rocks here and there.

They look like shells, but are actually a bit flexible, and very soft and smooth inside:

Christine Says Hello, and Brushtail Possum

Christine with a short and sweet video:

My First Australian Home

Well Tin's hard work finally paid off - she's been running back and forth from apartments all over the region for weeks looking for a home for us - and we are now the proud owners of a rental agreement securing a small one-bedroom apartment in the Northern Beaches suburb of Collaroy. We move in Monday, hopefully; photos to come.

The apartment's on the second floor of a three-story building with maybe ten units total. It's on a quiet, quite pleasant seeming, one-block, dead-end road, one end of which ends on a two-mile stretch of sand on the Tasman Sea, a segment of the South Pacific Ocean, called Collaroy Beach:

Once again: Our one-block, dead-end street ends at that. I can stumble there from my bed in maybe two minutes. And there's a club on the beach with an open air deck on the beach.

What have I done?