Pre-Australia Day, Timmah and I went to St. Kilda, touristy bogin-y beach, to walk 'round the expensive bistros and visit the cake shops. Ahem. This was followed by a sit on the beach with a bottle of Beez Neez.
I asked everybody what Australia Day was all about, and no one knew. Some thought my conjectures about it being related to ratifications of constitutions or battles for independence sounded fair. Most people just know it's a national holiday, a day for barbecueing, partying, and generally reiterating that Australia = great. However, a look at the official Australia Day website reveals that everybody was pretty much right: it doesn't have to do with any specific historical anniversaries, it is pretty much just a day that was generally agreed upon ("Not until 1935 did all the Australian states and territories use that name to mark that date. Not until 1994 did they begin to celebrate Australia Day consistently as a public holiday on that date") when the principle that Australia = great could generally be agreed upon. Hooray.
Next we have the lovely Brighton Beach, where I went yesterday as I hadn't been yet to a "proper Aussie beach." The beach doesn't smell like salt here, and the pictures won't do the gorgeous blue-green color and clarity of the water justice.
Of course I would have to wait until my last week here to get sunburned. I've been religious about the sunscreen, but got a wicked t-shirt burn when we went to Williamstown and I played with this puppy.
I then took a nap on Brighton Beach, burning my upper back (not without those oh-so-attractive tank top and bra strap lines, of course) but for some reason not my shoulders, so now my coloring is in a weird winged and strapped configuration. I look like I went sunbathing wearing nothing but a parachute pack. NO, there are no pictures of this. This is the end of pictures today.
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