Kristine Carroll settled into the sole patch of shade at the beach – a shaded triangle cast by the makeshift lifeguard station – and applied sunscreen all over her freckled complexion.
Squirming at the blazing midday sun, she glanced at her 8-year-old daughter, Zoe, who had relentlessly jumped into the turquoise-blue water, displaying no hesitance. “She’s a water baby,” Ms. Carroll observed.
The Pacific Ocean, which affords Sydney, Australia its iconic coastline and some of the world’s most enviable beaches, was nearly 50 miles away. A group of pelicans glided by, and coots waded nearby, absent any seabirds in sight. A cheeky sign screamed about wave heights of 2 millimeters — less than a tenth of an inch.
This was simply Pondi Beach. Not the famous Bondi, the reality TV backdrop and ultimate backpackers’ paradise, the hub of the Australian surf and sand scene — but the humbly regarded man-made Penrith Beach.
The lagoon created at an old quarry at the foot of the Blue Mountains, which signals the western limits of the Sydney area, isn’t postcard-worthy like Bondi. But it has become a cherished sanctum for those living an hour or more inland from the coastline who foot high tolls to reach it.
As with many cities, Sydney’s urban sprawl fringes comprise working-class families, freshly arrived immigrants, and those edged out further from downtown by the relentless rise in housing prices. In Penrith and neighboring regions, this includes enduring temperatures as high as 30 degrees Fahrenheit more than near the coast, a disparity sharpened by climate change. In 2020, Penrith briefly held the title of being the hottest place on earth when temperatures thermometer hit 120 degrees.
The beach, which opened for its second season in December, has cost the state government approximately $2.7 million. At half a mile, it’s as long as Bondi Beach. On a scorching Sunday, with temperatures spiking at 95 degrees, kids played happily in the water, snorkeling or flaunting pool floats. Families threw a rugby ball or prepared a meal of prawns, sausages, and a whole roast chicken. Some teens lay on their stomachs to tan.
Ms. Carroll, 46, an education coordinator from Penrith prison, has never had air-conditioning at home. The night before was too sweltering in her house, so she drove around in her car for the air conditioning. Having a nearby beach for her family to escape the heat, avoiding lengthy treks to the coast with hefty prices for tolls, parking, and food, was a great relief, particularly amidst the cost of living crisis. By her calculations, the day’s outing would only cost her Gas for a 12-minute drive and a 50-cent McDonald’s ice cream for her daughter on their way home.
Despite its proximity to suburbs that historically have faced derogatory slang over their uncouth nature, Pondi has its benefits. Zoe, who had been to “actual Bondi” for a cousin’s swim meet, pointed out that the saltiness of the ocean left her with red splotches on her skin but praised the softness of Pondi’s sand.
Elhadi Dahia and his children moved from their makeshift swim spot to two food trucks parked nearby. His older children devoured hot dogs and a potato snack while pleading for ice cream. The youngest, in a “Fish are friends” swim diaper, grew up in Darfur’s landlocked western Sudan, only knowing “donkey swimming” from rivers that overflowed after rain. Arriving in Australia more than a decade ago as a refugee, Mr. Dahia enrolled his kids in swimming lessons for a truly Australian upbringing.
Diana Harvey snooped Penrith Beach with a whim and stayed for two hours of swimming sobered by the Blue Mountains and the azure sky.
Nevertheless, some question if a beach that inward would merely be a glorified swamp. Pondi’s opening week in 2023 was marred by a tragedy when a man who floated on a paddle board beyond the swimming area drowned.
Over 200,000 people visited the beach in its first season, according to the state government. On a recent weekend morning, Barbara Dunn’s family was the first at the beach gates as they opened at 10 a.m. For the next six hours, her 6-year-old daughter Rhythm relentlessly swam, played in the sand, and rolled around in the river grass.
“She won’t want to go home,” Ms. Dunn said with a resigned sigh.
Source: https://www.nytimes.com/2025/03/25/world/australia/sydney-pondi-beach.html
