Gourmet Traveller (Australia) - - Contents -

Imar­ried into the fam­ily of Harold Holt, the only Prime Min­is­ter Aus­tralia has ever lost and never found again. A few sum­mers ago, hours af­ter land­ing in Syd­ney from the US, I found my­self caught in a rip at Bondi Beach with Harold’s niece and my mother-in-law, Sue.

I’m not a strong swim­mer and was heav­ily preg­nant at the time, and we both in­stinc­tively did the ex­act op­po­site of what we knew to be best prac­tice: we screamed, we flailed, we des­per­ately tried to swim to shore. All-in-all ex­haust­ing our­selves with lit­tle re­sults to show for our ef­fort.

As panic set in and we drifted fur­ther out to sea, the ed­i­tor in me couldn’t help but pon­der the head­lines that might fol­low such a dis­ap­pear­ance: “The Holt Curse”, per­haps?

It was a surfer who even­tu­ally spot­ted us and pushed us back to shore. Hours ear­lier I’d been soar­ing over this sec­tion of coast in a Qan­tas A380. Now here I was, pow­er­fully and some­what un­grace­fully spat back out onto the sand. I was safe and I was salty and I was home.

Aus­tralian beaches: beau­ti­ful, pow­er­ful, ter­ri­fy­ing, ex­hil­a­rat­ing. We couldn’t re­sist ded­i­cat­ing an is­sue to one of our most beloved geo­graph­i­cal fea­tures at their most ma­jes­tic time of year.

En­joy the is­sue,


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