Christmas in Cronulla

It was hard to get into the Christmas spirit here in Australia and that wasn't just because I had been working labour jobs with people stressed by the pre-Christmas rush. I'm not religious, so the original point of Christmas is of course lost on me. However, I've always loved the being-merry-in-the-middle-of-winter-when-there-isn't-much-else-to-look-forward-to and spending quality time with friends and family aspects of Christmas. But here, in the heart of an Australian summer away from my family and friends, what was Christmas? Indeed, on Christmas Eve I wasn't feeling it although the hostel was lively. Perhaps I was missing people, or perhaps I was just tired - I woke up at 6.45am for the dire 0-0 draw between Arsenal and Chelsea and then went on a customarily balls to the wall run and workout. I was in bed long before midnight.

Christmas Day was different. I woke up early and feeling refreshed. Listening to Bowie and Crosby's wonderful 'Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy' in bed filled me with Christmas spirit and then it was off to the beach for a morning swim. The weather was disappointingly overcast but the dip felt great. Next up was the hostel Secret Santa, which over the past few days had presented me with the question 'what do you get a German lad for Christmas who you know nothing about other than the fact that he looks like Gareth from The Office?' I couldn't find any DVDs of the series so I bought him a couple of nice beers which he seemed to enjoy unwrapping. Most of the gifts were small and silly (although one guy mysteriously received a $100 note) and I was the lucky recipient of the small inflatable doll pictured below. The whole thing was a lot of fun and I suppose I now have a travelling companion!

The hostel owner kindly put on a free lunch for everyone and it was magnificent. Shrimp, chicken, some seabed crawling crustacean which tasted a bit like crab and was delicious, oysters (I didn't touch these), and two giant hams. Being more of a binge eater than a binge drinker I rose to the occasion and stuffed myself.  I especially went to to town on the shrimp and looking down at the sizeable mound of dispatched heads and tails on my plate I wondered whether Greenpeace would come calling for me the next morning.

A quick Jethro Tull soundtracked rest unsurprisingly followed, but only until I received news that dessert was out. An irresistible selection of cheesecakes was set out in the kitchen as well as a crate of mangoes, possibly my favourite fruit. A gluttonous five minutes of cake-mango alternation ensued and buoyed by the sugar rush I headed back down to the beach with a large group from the hostel. By this time a typically British drizzle had set in and the temperature was far from warm. It was more Croyde than Cronulla. Nonetheless we bounded into the Pacific Ocean, several guys still wearing Santa outfits.
A Thanksgiving-esque food coma really hit me in the afternoon, so the only thing I could do was watch the movie Elf, which continues to entertain me year after year. The evening was low key and spent chatting with some friendly Swedes and sampling their traditional Christmas treats.

Overall Christmas in Cronulla was great and certainly a different December 25th experience that I will look back on fondly. Christmas seemed to come from nowhere this year and it left even more abruptly. On Boxing Day I was back to work at 7am and I longed for leftover turkey, Christmas cake, and Match Of The Day with a full set of fixtures.