Do you love where you live?
February 21st 2008 22:25
Some places are hard to love. Take Johannesburg, for instance, the city in which I was born and spent 28 years of my life. It is dusty, architecturally-challenged and battling with poverty and violence. The walls in the suburbs get higher and higher each time I return, the barbed wire and electric fences, once the exception, have taken over. Loving Johannesburg is like loving a wayward child. It’s hard and it hurts and you love them because you recognize they could be so much more.
Some places are easier to love, asking as little effort from the pulmonary muscle as that necessary to adore a puppy or a sweet-smelling baby. Coogee is one of those places. Each morning I wake to see the sun rise over its ocean and the flock of white collar masochists being tortured by barking Boot Camp instructors on its beach, and I say a little prayer. Dear God, thank you for Coogee.
Why do I love this place?
Firstly, there’s its modesty, unsurprising for a place whose name is Aboriginal for ‘stinky seaweed.’ Nestling between the rugged wildness of Maroubra’s beach and the concreted snorkler-friendliness of Clovelly, it doesn’t out-brag Bondi. For starters it’s half Bondi’s size. Maybe even smaller. And our lifeguards don’t have their own tv show. They just get on with the job. The other day I was listening to the radio in the car when a woman phoned to speak to Kyle and Jackie O. Her gripe was that she couldn’t stand all these ‘old people over the age of 35 sitting on the beach in their bikinis and some of them even – gasp! – sunbathing topless. It’s disgusting and ruins the whole atmosphere. They shouldn’t be allowed on the beach,’ she whinged, feeling the need to share this with the whole of Sydney. She was from Bondi.
For those of us with less than perfect bodies, Coogee is welcoming, even if you feel the need to go nipples-to-the-sun. On a day when the water calls, but the shore break is dangerous as it often is on Coogee beach, there are four sea-baths from the south end of the beach up to the north end to choose from. Wileys on the south side for a $3 entry fee for adults and 50 cents for kids is like something out of a Hercule Pierot movie in the fifties. It has a very European feel to it, with that huge wooden deck and old fashioned kiosk which makes a very decent coffee and sandwich. I once had a massage by the sea there where I listened to the sound of water lapping and men flirting with each other. It was blissful.
If you have breasts to speak of, you can enter the Women’s Baths, for a 20 cent entrance fee, deposited in a basket in keeping with that old-wordly theme where honour is a system, not just a chivalrous character trait. There women, young and old, bare their bosoms and kick about like a harem of selkies behind the secluded privacy of the rocks. Down at the beach is the kiddies splash pool which after a storm may find you swimming amongst some turd-like detritus, which, funnily enough, kids don’t seem to mind. Giles Baths at Dolphin Point on the north end is a particular favourite of mine. That is when some folk are not pretending to have missed the very clear sign at the top of the stairwell with a picture of a dog with a red line through it, which, in case anyone with a dog was wondering means NO DOGS ALLOWED.
From my study window, where I sit and write, I overlook the Coogee Oval. I could watch cricket and rugby matches several times a week if I understood either. On occasion, the Wallabies practice out there and then it is truly impossible for me to get a parking space outside my own apartment block. Personally I don’t understand what all the fuss is about, but realize I am a lone voice in the wilderness on this point. I have SLD (Sport Literacy Deficit). But I get an odd kind of vicarious joy in watching the young bodies exercising there. Coogee is a place brimming with health and heart. Here the six-packs somehow seem more about fitness than posing.
Run by the people who live in and around Coogee, who are committed to making Coogee a more happening place, is the annual Coogee Arts Festival. For the past five years, Barry Waterson (a lawyer and firefighter by day) has put it all together. The festival puts on Shakespearean performances in the park during the month of February. There’s also a walk from Coogee to Clovelly to raise money for the Randwick Children’s Hospital, and the Stinkwater short film festival in which locals are challenged to make a short film filmed over a period of no more than twenty-four hours. (And take it from me, they are very strict about the deadline… ahem).
In addition to the festival, Coogee hosts a number of annual events including the Nutrigrain Iron Man Challenge, the swim around Wedding Cake island which sits 800metres off-shore, Carols around Christmas time and fireworks on New Years Eve. Since the Bali tragedy in 2002, there is also an annual memorial at the Bali memorial in October each year to commemorate those who lost their lives in the bombing. Coogee, is fun, but not frivolous.
Coogee fashion? Shorts and thongs, mate. Seriously, no-one gives a damn down here, the lipgloss and the stilettos are wasted in these parts.
Okay, so there’s a lot of Irish backpackers (at least one of whom breaks a neck while diving into the surf after too many beers – seriously, we have at least one terrible neck injury here a summer), you can’t move on the beach some sunny days for all the tourists, and there is no bookshop, which I’ve gotta say, hurts and is hard not to take personally. So some nights your car gets it bonnet or roof jumped on by drunken people with accents coming up from the pubs. That, alone is the single Coogee lifestyle hazard.
Then there are the locals, the faces of those I pass each day on my walk or run, the old guys going for their early morning dips discussing the temperature of the water, Lauchlan, Ana and Jeremy who run Globe café, Jason Black the celebrity real-estate agent with his boofy hair-do on a huge billboard, the old lady walking her ancient dog, the mothers with their prams full of twins, the surly old guy who serves doner kebabs up at Yeeros on the beach front til midnight and beyond, the homeless guy who watches all the cricket matches, Doc Levy who won’t let you go without a prescription, the waiter at Chilli Box who INSISTS on filling your glass with water, the teams that play beach volley ball every Sunday, the buskers who make a buck with their saxophones and fire-throwing tricks…
This is my village. And every morning as I open my window and the smell of the ocean smacks me in the face like an unexpected kiss, I say: Thank you for this place. For putting me here.
Check out www.coogeelocalvocal.com.au
and www.coogeeartsfestival.com.au
www.joannefedler.com
<a Really Long Link target="ejejcsingle" >Click here to view more details</a>
Coogee beachfront
Some places are easier to love, asking as little effort from the pulmonary muscle as that necessary to adore a puppy or a sweet-smelling baby. Coogee is one of those places. Each morning I wake to see the sun rise over its ocean and the flock of white collar masochists being tortured by barking Boot Camp instructors on its beach, and I say a little prayer. Dear God, thank you for Coogee.
Why do I love this place?
Firstly, there’s its modesty, unsurprising for a place whose name is Aboriginal for ‘stinky seaweed.’ Nestling between the rugged wildness of Maroubra’s beach and the concreted snorkler-friendliness of Clovelly, it doesn’t out-brag Bondi. For starters it’s half Bondi’s size. Maybe even smaller. And our lifeguards don’t have their own tv show. They just get on with the job. The other day I was listening to the radio in the car when a woman phoned to speak to Kyle and Jackie O. Her gripe was that she couldn’t stand all these ‘old people over the age of 35 sitting on the beach in their bikinis and some of them even – gasp! – sunbathing topless. It’s disgusting and ruins the whole atmosphere. They shouldn’t be allowed on the beach,’ she whinged, feeling the need to share this with the whole of Sydney. She was from Bondi.
Coogee beach safety flags
For those of us with less than perfect bodies, Coogee is welcoming, even if you feel the need to go nipples-to-the-sun. On a day when the water calls, but the shore break is dangerous as it often is on Coogee beach, there are four sea-baths from the south end of the beach up to the north end to choose from. Wileys on the south side for a $3 entry fee for adults and 50 cents for kids is like something out of a Hercule Pierot movie in the fifties. It has a very European feel to it, with that huge wooden deck and old fashioned kiosk which makes a very decent coffee and sandwich. I once had a massage by the sea there where I listened to the sound of water lapping and men flirting with each other. It was blissful.
Dolphin Point
If you have breasts to speak of, you can enter the Women’s Baths, for a 20 cent entrance fee, deposited in a basket in keeping with that old-wordly theme where honour is a system, not just a chivalrous character trait. There women, young and old, bare their bosoms and kick about like a harem of selkies behind the secluded privacy of the rocks. Down at the beach is the kiddies splash pool which after a storm may find you swimming amongst some turd-like detritus, which, funnily enough, kids don’t seem to mind. Giles Baths at Dolphin Point on the north end is a particular favourite of mine. That is when some folk are not pretending to have missed the very clear sign at the top of the stairwell with a picture of a dog with a red line through it, which, in case anyone with a dog was wondering means NO DOGS ALLOWED.
Giles Baths sign
From my study window, where I sit and write, I overlook the Coogee Oval. I could watch cricket and rugby matches several times a week if I understood either. On occasion, the Wallabies practice out there and then it is truly impossible for me to get a parking space outside my own apartment block. Personally I don’t understand what all the fuss is about, but realize I am a lone voice in the wilderness on this point. I have SLD (Sport Literacy Deficit). But I get an odd kind of vicarious joy in watching the young bodies exercising there. Coogee is a place brimming with health and heart. Here the six-packs somehow seem more about fitness than posing.
Run by the people who live in and around Coogee, who are committed to making Coogee a more happening place, is the annual Coogee Arts Festival. For the past five years, Barry Waterson (a lawyer and firefighter by day) has put it all together. The festival puts on Shakespearean performances in the park during the month of February. There’s also a walk from Coogee to Clovelly to raise money for the Randwick Children’s Hospital, and the Stinkwater short film festival in which locals are challenged to make a short film filmed over a period of no more than twenty-four hours. (And take it from me, they are very strict about the deadline… ahem).
In addition to the festival, Coogee hosts a number of annual events including the Nutrigrain Iron Man Challenge, the swim around Wedding Cake island which sits 800metres off-shore, Carols around Christmas time and fireworks on New Years Eve. Since the Bali tragedy in 2002, there is also an annual memorial at the Bali memorial in October each year to commemorate those who lost their lives in the bombing. Coogee, is fun, but not frivolous.
Bali memorial
Coogee fashion? Shorts and thongs, mate. Seriously, no-one gives a damn down here, the lipgloss and the stilettos are wasted in these parts.
Okay, so there’s a lot of Irish backpackers (at least one of whom breaks a neck while diving into the surf after too many beers – seriously, we have at least one terrible neck injury here a summer), you can’t move on the beach some sunny days for all the tourists, and there is no bookshop, which I’ve gotta say, hurts and is hard not to take personally. So some nights your car gets it bonnet or roof jumped on by drunken people with accents coming up from the pubs. That, alone is the single Coogee lifestyle hazard.
Dangerous shorebreak at Coogee beach
Then there are the locals, the faces of those I pass each day on my walk or run, the old guys going for their early morning dips discussing the temperature of the water, Lauchlan, Ana and Jeremy who run Globe café, Jason Black the celebrity real-estate agent with his boofy hair-do on a huge billboard, the old lady walking her ancient dog, the mothers with their prams full of twins, the surly old guy who serves doner kebabs up at Yeeros on the beach front til midnight and beyond, the homeless guy who watches all the cricket matches, Doc Levy who won’t let you go without a prescription, the waiter at Chilli Box who INSISTS on filling your glass with water, the teams that play beach volley ball every Sunday, the buskers who make a buck with their saxophones and fire-throwing tricks…
Coogee Surf Life Saving Club at Coogee Beach
This is my village. And every morning as I open my window and the smell of the ocean smacks me in the face like an unexpected kiss, I say: Thank you for this place. For putting me here.
Check out www.coogeelocalvocal.com.au
and www.coogeeartsfestival.com.au
www.joannefedler.com
<a Really Long Link target="ejejcsingle" >Click here to view more details</a>
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Comment by AmyHuang
Sydney Table
Project Job Search
Travel Debate
Travel String
Love Adventures
I love Coogee, I have lived in the inner west of Sydney for the past 5 years now and Coogee is the one beach we head to (direct bus) and you are right, Bondi people just have such arrogance that makes it rather unpleasant!
I am soon to be moving to Coffs Harbour. Am here right now house hunting and I tell you I am loving it already
Comment by grumpy
Psyche Science
Grumpys Blog
Photography Craft
Comment by Joanne Fedler
Secret Writers Business
And as for you Grumpy, just the photo on your blog banner is enough to make a gal swoon. It's stunning. The odd pics you post up on your blog do make it look like a little crumb of heaven.
Jo
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
As a fellow African (Zimbie!) I can see what you mean about Jo'burg. There is so much potential ... yet it gets more and more locked away behind security walls as the days go by.. and you`re too busy trying NOT to get hijacked to actually enjoy the scenery even if you go for a drive!
I live, in what was once paradise, on Qld`s Sunshine Coast, which is starting to see the effects of over-development. Slowly concrete graves are being poured over the beautiful greenery, roads and snaking through what was once forest and buildings are starting to rise up where once there was sky. But, it is still pretty here I can`t deny that fact. We have Fraser Island on our doorstep and are only a short hop, skip and jump to the GBR. Slops are in, takkies if it`s cold... which is rare...
It`s all good maaate!
Ash
Comment by JP Shaw
Sassy Ink Author
Joanne you make me jealous with those damn pics. My aunt and uncle just came back and they absolutely loved it there. So I guess we are going to have save our pennies if we want to get closer than the pictures you posted. Besides if I can sun tan nipples up that sounds divine... lol!
Comment by postmoderncritic
Postmodern Critic
Daily Inspirations
Relativity Watch
Padsoc
Beautiful, my dear...
I live not too far away, in Randwick, and compared to our old place in Waverley it's rather disappointing, but I still think I'm very lucky to live in this part of Sydney. I often go on a walk to Coogee when I have the time and inclination, and usually pass where you live!
The great thing about where we live is that it's close to some lovely restraunts (Thai, Indian, Italian, fish and chips) and several mixed business places, transport, and Randwick Jnct and Bondi Jnct are 5-8 mins away by bus.
I can't wait to move to California, though... or possibly somewhere in Western Europe if that doesn't work out (I am a Bulgarian citizen so I can legally work over there if I decide to).
Lovely post, I'll be sure to visit your blog again!
Comment by Michaelie
Flick Wit
Great post.
Michaelie
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
What a beautiful description of your lovely locale. I live in Arlington , Texas within the Dallas-Fort Worth-Arlington metropolitan area. Arlington has an estimated population of 367,197. Arlington is the 7th largest city in Texas and the 49th largest city in the United States. We are a tourist town, located approximately 12 miles (19 km) east of downtown Fort Worth and 20 miles (32 km) west of downtown Dallas, Arlington is home to the Texas Rangers' Ballpark in Arlington and the theme parks Six Flags Over Texas, which is the original Six Flags, and Hurricane Harbor. The Dallas Cowboys' new stadium will also be located in Arlington.
There is a great deal of suburban sprawl and not very scenic. We live in the plains and have a fair number of trees with a temperate climate ... We only get a handful of cold days here..but in the summer temps get in the 100s. We have a very diverse community in culture, language, and cuisine.
Thanks for writing such an interesting post.
Mis