The first place Zan Rowe goes the morning after her New Year’s Eve hosting gig
The ABC host jumps into the Bronte ocean pool, bright and early, to start the year right. The way she hopes it will continue, with grace and gratitude.
Ocean pools are NSW’s greatest asset. If you’re from here, you may not realise they’re an anomaly for the rest of Australia. More than 100 dot the NSW coastline, allowing us to bathe in beautiful saltwater without getting dunked (or, worse, bitten by a shark). Carved out of the Hawkesbury sandstone that artfully hugs its curves is the grand dame of them all, Bronte.
I have so many treasured memories tied to this body of water. I go there to catch up with people I love, to celebrate, to mark a moment, to begin again. “Meet me at Bronte ocean pool?” Who could say no to that? There is so much life in it every day.
I’ll never forget a morning when a heatwave drove us to Bronte at dawn and I watched the sun rise over the ocean and make the water in the pool slick like liquid metal. The blazing heat reached out from behind the morning clouds, shimmering across the surface.
“Meet me at Bronte ocean pool?” Who could say no to that? asks Zan Rowe, “There is so much life in it every day.”Credit: Zan Rowe
At that time of day it’s all locals, many of them in their senior years, and they look as though they’ve found the tonic to everlasting life. A friend was visiting from Melbourne that time and we floated in the water, not quite believing our luck to be alive in that moment, in this place.
The chain gang: Swimmers at dawn at Bronte pool.Credit: Zan Rowe
One time I wandered down as the tides raged at dusk, braving the laundry churn in the drink and running into mates attempting the same. Laughing and joking around, we let the waves sway us side to side before our mettle was tested and we pulled ourselves up and out. Bronte makes me feel like a kid again.
Rowe with friends at Bronte pool.Credit:
There’s that wonderful path that loops its edge, separating the wild waves from us in the bath where the pool’s edge meets the ocean. I’m not as brave (or foolish) as the teenage boys who hold on to the chain rail, waiting for waves to throw them in as they scream with glee, and then scramble back up to the edge to get sloshed in all over again. I’m in an ocean pool for a reason. Bronte keeps me safe.
