If I had a spare $20 million I might consider putting down roots in Balmoral, the sunkissed harbourside playground of the mega-rich on Sydney's North Shore.
Geez, it's noice. Sparkling harbour views, calm European-style water (ie: flat) but with lovely Aussie sand, lots of cafes and great coffee.
Each year the locals hold the Balmoral Swim for the Children's Cancer Institute Australia. It's a one kilometre swim, which is fine by me. Most of the hardcore ocean swimmers head to the longer swim at South West Rocks on the Mid North Coast, which coincides with the Sydney event.
But not the Mighty Davo and I. We are sort of old and sort of feeble (I hurt my back last week and he broke his foot) so the shorter event was the go. Also, Balmoral is closer to home and an easy Sunday morning drive. Davo's son (my nephew), Little Prince, tagged along for the 250 metre kiddies' swim.
Suffice to say, they do things in a very civilised fashion at Balmoral. A lovely woman, a *Mosman-type, gave me my cap, number and ankle-timer thingy.
After a faulty start just after 10am, where about 30 male competitors had to be stopped and marshalled back to the beach, the swim was as smooth as a Mosman yummy mummy's botoxed forehead.
I'm thrilled to say I was with the peloton all the way! No hanging about wondering where everyone had gone - which is usually way ahead of moi.
The water was a linger-longer temperature and the swim was a comfortable length. Mighty Davo said he was kicked in the face and had to endure much macho male behaviour, but the 40-49-year-old women were all well behaved.
Apart from the usual scuffle upon entering the water, it was all rather jolly good fun!
God, on days like this I love Sydney.
*Sydney is divided into tribes and there is a definite Mosman look (Mosman is the suburb at the top of the hill, which enviously overlooks Balmoral). She was perfectly made up with the hair sprayed into place, the manicured red nails were definitely not glue-ons and she wore a silk blouse and pressed linen trousers. I didn't look at her feet, but I bet the sandals were patent leather and her toenails varnished a matching red.
Geez, it's noice. Sparkling harbour views, calm European-style water (ie: flat) but with lovely Aussie sand, lots of cafes and great coffee.
Each year the locals hold the Balmoral Swim for the Children's Cancer Institute Australia. It's a one kilometre swim, which is fine by me. Most of the hardcore ocean swimmers head to the longer swim at South West Rocks on the Mid North Coast, which coincides with the Sydney event.
But not the Mighty Davo and I. We are sort of old and sort of feeble (I hurt my back last week and he broke his foot) so the shorter event was the go. Also, Balmoral is closer to home and an easy Sunday morning drive. Davo's son (my nephew), Little Prince, tagged along for the 250 metre kiddies' swim.
Suffice to say, they do things in a very civilised fashion at Balmoral. A lovely woman, a *Mosman-type, gave me my cap, number and ankle-timer thingy.
After a faulty start just after 10am, where about 30 male competitors had to be stopped and marshalled back to the beach, the swim was as smooth as a Mosman yummy mummy's botoxed forehead.
I'm thrilled to say I was with the peloton all the way! No hanging about wondering where everyone had gone - which is usually way ahead of moi.
The water was a linger-longer temperature and the swim was a comfortable length. Mighty Davo said he was kicked in the face and had to endure much macho male behaviour, but the 40-49-year-old women were all well behaved.
Apart from the usual scuffle upon entering the water, it was all rather jolly good fun!
God, on days like this I love Sydney.
*Sydney is divided into tribes and there is a definite Mosman look (Mosman is the suburb at the top of the hill, which enviously overlooks Balmoral). She was perfectly made up with the hair sprayed into place, the manicured red nails were definitely not glue-ons and she wore a silk blouse and pressed linen trousers. I didn't look at her feet, but I bet the sandals were patent leather and her toenails varnished a matching red.
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