The sand, snow-like and silky, was ouch-hot to tenderfoots but just-right warm to the souls of seasoned surfers that owned this strip of heaven known as Bondi.
There were the 10-year-old towheaded grommets and the rail-thin teens that had to run around in the shower to get wet.
There were the 20-somethings that couch-surfed by night, so they might be gods by day.
