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I know, i know, it’s been a while. Two and a half weeks have passed and all there is to show is one lousy video of a grasshopper. This lack of documentation might suggest not a great deal has happened over the last few weeks or perhaps that i have been busy both working and enjoying the greatest waves i have ever surfed. You will all be pleased to know it’s most definitely the latter. Basically Bali rocks. Good sessions are not forgotten, take for example the picture above, can’t name the place or i’ll never be forgiven, but we’d searched around and found nothing, onshore winds messing things up, then Putu our guide brought myself billy and griffin to the top of a cliff and this is what we saw, perfect corduroy lines of swell to the horizon converging with clear blue skies, we surfed our hearts out.

One wave can make  session, a perfect, long, right hander at Geger made two hours of paddling into position against an extreme current worthwhile. I could go on, i will go on. Epic sessions at ’secret spot’ with just two of us in the water, only head and a half high clinical left handers for company. And then the real heavy day at the same spot with fat double width waves with a feasome lip looming down on those below, one wave was enough, more than that felt foolhardy.

I have written before in detail about Padang Padang surf camp  and my return here did not disappoint,  hosts Andrew and Ina as hospitable as ever. Funny  both Jenny and Erica at the camp back in December had both chosen to return too. Too many highlight, you’d be here all day! Massive appreciation to both Putu and Koyok our local guides for getting me on waves at Bingin i would never have dreamt of paddling for myself. And Steamy for fixing my board after dinging it at the aforementioned break, possibly on fellow guests steves head. For those of you with time on your side check out some pic on flickr (zo there’s on in there just for you lol)

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Bilgola beach, on Sydneys north shore

Sunday, woke up couldn’t resist checking the score from previous days Chelsea Hull city game, nil nil, unreal more than worthy of a viewing. After popping out for coffee, settled down to watch a recording of the game. Bloody enthralling it was too, possibilities to steal it. The straw that broke Scolari’s back.

Gaffers arrived at noon with two boards nestled on the Yarra, for the drive up to Sydney’s northern beaches. Headed up to the top to Palm beach, home of Home and Away, soap fans. Rammed, all of Sydney was expecting recored temperatures this weekend, we were not the only ones drifting to the coast. snaked round to Whale beach, stunning, but crazy busy too, after 17 laps of the car park we opted to move on to Bilgola, found a park after approximately 4 days.

Stunning beach with funsize waves, God knows what has happened to the water over the last few days, has plummeted from 23 to what must have been about 17 degrees… chilly! Braved it in boardies and rash vest on Chris M’s barrel rider for an hour and a half or so, then back to the beach to rediscover some feeling in my feet. Great session with Gaffers taking the plaudits for wave of the day to accompany his earlier award for car park three point turn of the day.

Stopped on the way home for some Barramundi and chips at the Newport Arms, no sightings of Alan Hansen on this occasion, but quality view from the unreal beer garden looking over Pittwater. Plans hatched for the future to spend another sunny afternoon here working way through schooners of Coopers. The day was topped off with a rooftop swim and drinks at the scousers place in Pyrmont. Today was a good day.

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Even with the knowledge that ropes are strong and that Shane our guide had a GCSE or Australian equivalent in rock climbing, there is still something more than mildly counter intuitive about standing at the top of a 30 metre rock face, shuffling back a bit,  shuffling back a bit more, then leaning backwards over that sheer rock edge. You check  the thickness of the rope in your hand. Look at the loop of metal holding it on to the rock and think to yourself, that could easy pop out. After receiving basic instruction in how to use the brakes (arm reaching forwards go down, arm backwards stop) I enquired as to what would happen if i let go of the rope… you’ll probably die was the simple but chilling answer. With that i let go of the brake and hopped backwards into the void and  down the rock face, rucksack gently swaying beneath my back.

It wasn’t supposed to start like this, though with hindsight it was probably no bad thing. Myself an Mr Jackson had ventured out of sydney to the incredible Blue Mountains. We watched on with mild anxiety as Shane our excellent guide from the Australian School of Mountaineering  in Katoomba set up top ropes for our first climb, his mate kylie (made that  name up) came and set up an abseil rope for another group. Shane suggested we make hay and use their ropes to abseil down to save us bush bashing… hmmm… Jacko went first, he wasn’t feeling to great at this point in his life about vertical rock edges. I was pretty chuffed not to hear any blood curdling screams and dull thuds as he disappeared over the edge. Jacko at the bottom alive i thought was a good test of equipment quality. Surely only human error on my part could kill me now. 

All three of us down alive it was time to go back up again, how futile you may think, but no. It was a beautiful, adrenalin fueled thrilling day of climbing up a rock, being lowered down a rock. Shane, with his perfect dry Australian manner regaled us with incidents of maiming or death he had witnessed in his short career . One woman dropped by her partner, not metaphorically, but literally. She was climbing he let go of the rope holding her on the rock, she died. Would not have surprised me if a march fly had just prior to the moment of him letting go chosen to take a bite out his elbow. Those beasts certainly pic their moments. The last thing you need when you are holding on to a bit of sandstone by your finger tips is a march fly chewing away on your neck i can tell you for nothing. 

So the idea that you are holding your climbing partners life in your hand helps to focus the mind. I sensed this fact was playing on Jacko’s mind somewhat as our final safety checks would uncover small yet crucial safety oversights on my part. Shane assured him that this was the point of the final safety check, Jacko would fix me with an incredulous glare, far it would seem from reassured. For me the worrying part was not climbing to the top of the rocks, it was at that moment when the ascent was over, and Jacko having  taken up the slack of the rope would inform me i was good to let go. The brain struggles with this illogical message. Many thoughts stop by the lively confused mind. Did i tie that knot correctly? Was it tight enough? Is Jacko being attacked by a march fly?

But we got through it with nothing more than a few scars and grazes….I’d head back there tomorrow were it not for the aches… of course the aches, aches of a kind that i haven’t experienced in some time, aches that make me wince everytime i move from the sofa, boy do i hurt, maybe i’ll leave it  a week or so before i return.

check out pics here

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Missed this exhibition when this was on at the Tate a while back, or at least presuming it’s the same exhibition traveling about a bit. Turned up early on a saturday morning and had pretty much the whole place to myself. Faves from the show, difficult to choose, but i really enjoyed the formula 1 pitstops, and racetrack shots and also the the shot of the massive furniture factory in Vietnam. Impressive gallery too, thought the water covered windows at the entrance (picture above) was pretty special.

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I copied an album from James in November, he told me it was incredible, it probably still sits somewhere on my old laptop, I didn’t listen to it. Going over the line up for the Sydney Festival i noticed the band was playing. I Listened to a couple of tracks on youtube, bought tickets for the gig at the Sydney Recital Hall, and downloaded the album from itunes, since then i’ve listened to the album almost daily. Yesterday it was my birthday, i saw the most perfect live show. I saw Bon Iver play the final show of their tour to promote the album ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’. I can’t get what might have been lost out of my head. Check Wolves

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Silver Apples Turbine hall All Tomorrow Parties sydney

I feared the worst, arriving at circular key for my scheduled 12.50am ferry, the queue looped seemingly half way around sydney, dark memories of the queue fest that was atp 2006 when seemingly more time was spent queuing for bands than watching them. It wasn’t to be, a ferry docked, the queue moved fast as people packed into the tardis like vessel, then off we sailed past the opera house, under the harbour bridge and on to Cockatoo island, all fears unfounded.

Cockatoo Island, this former prison island / shipyard, think alcatraz with industrial relics, a stunning setting for this 1 day 4 stage event. Afrirampo kick started everyones day, within minutes they had the bemused audience chanting “we want to have a party at Nick Caves house in Melbourne…with his family” The sets highlight had to be the final song, a song alledgedly written with pigmies, played out in the middle of the crowd with just a floor tom and vocal mic for accompaniment. Up on the Barracks stage Michael Gira sounded his brutal uncompromising best hammering out acoustic swans and Angels of Light tunes up on the windswept stage, his gutteral unaccompanied vocals perfectly echoing around the sandstone walls, really memorable.

Other highlights of the day included Jason Pierce of Spiritualized beautiful segue from waltzing matilda played on a wind up music box into ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space. Passengers of Shit, from the Blue Mountains (who records on his own perfectly monikered shitwank record label) not so much as playing, but assaulting with his, and these are his words not mine, hardcore gabba / trendy fuckwit breakcore tamborine core type dance sounds. Nick cave and the bad seeds tearing the heart out of each every track, songs delivered as a pieces of micro theatre, with warren ellis creating impossible sounds from a violin a big amp and a vast array of stomp boxes. Silver apples filling the cavenous turbine hall with his drones, hums and electronic rhythms to bring the evening to a perfect close.

All that was left was a boat trip under the stars to the bright lights of sydneys centre. The essential way to leave behind a special festival. slideshow here if your bored

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