When I first came to Palm Beach (or Palmy as it is affectionately named) whenever I had mentioned I was heading there, I was greeted with various cautions. "Watch out for the crackies Jimmy," they'd say. "Don't buy any crack," or "are you on crack?" But since moving here I've realised it's actually okay!
And there's nowhere near as much crack as you'd think!
Life seems pretty mellow for the Palm Beach community. A coffee here, a surf there, maybe walk the dog or relax with that book you've been meaning to nestle into.
During the days you often see the same few people going about their business. There's old mate across the road with the classic 90s goat-boat strapped to his car (Bretto, he's a legend). There's the russian neighbours livin' large in the smallest (read: best) cottage with beachfront access. Then right next door there's the 4 story mega mansion that's at least 30% staircase (quote taken from my other neighbour, Jeremy. Onya Jeremy).
There's just a good honest mix of people.
And that's what I like about Palmy. Just people going about there lives, tying to have a good time and stay out of trouble.
Before coming here I didn't really know if there would be many places for me to sell my boards (apart from my shop), but about three months ago a good little crew of cats moved their own collective of goods into a vacant space on Palm Beach Ave.
These two longboards (105cms) are currently there...
Oh, and the reason I got to that was because the manager, Byron, is a lord, and he doesn't do crack.