So Monday 18th June is my 30th birthday.
That's a bit depressing. By the time my Mum and Dad were my age they had been married nearly 9 years and had had a baby (eg me).
However, all is not lost because I made the decision to see the world. So, as it happened, my 30th birthday drinks were held in the swankiest of bars on Bondi Beach. Could be worse.
I have Charmaine and Rebecca to thank for this, and by proxy, Giacomo. I described what I was looking for - somewhere posher than a pub but not too expensive - and they filled in the blanks.
They chose Icebergs.
So, in a black, howling gale I made my way over to Bondi. Icebergs was located on a craggy outcrop of rock at one end of the beach. It was a modern three-tiered mini-palace. All glass and waiters. Low, moody amber light. Posh leather sofas and two nifty hanging birdy-basket seats overlooking the ocean.
In the height of Summer, this place must be awesome. Trust me to have a birthday in the heart of the Australian winter. All we could see were the flickering lights of the bars on Bondi, and the Iceberg swimming pool which was situated right by the sea where, due to the storm waves, it had been totally inundated by the black, foaming Pacific Ocean. The only indication that it was a swimming pool was a silver half-ladder poking up out of the salty depths.
Anyway by 8.30 most people had arrived and we sat around chatting and drinking and swinging in the bird cage seats until we realised that at $8 a beer the money wouldn't go very far. And so we moved on to somewhere vaguely more pub-like.
Another two bars later and it was 1am. Time to go home. But not before a drunken trip to a shonky kebab house on The Cross for a slice of heat-lamped pizza.
A good night, but today, I think my colon might fall off.
L to R: Matty, Simon, Me, Charmaine (in front of me) Chris, Siah, Elmer and Rebecca