5. The Aussie
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The post surf hacky sack was always a treat to be around.
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This is a Kiwi outside his natural habitat ie. in New Zealand.
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You may question Eugene Terreblanche's politics, but you can't question his incredible wax jobs.
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No wonder they think the Superbank is so uncrowded.
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Who would have thought that after all those years fraternising with crocodiles, Mick Dundee would ultimately succumb to a night-club bouncer’s right-hook.
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Imagine getting dropped in by all these Brazil nuts at once. Terrible.
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Eddie here grew up in Pennsylvania, where true Hawaiians come from.
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Francois was enjoying his time in G-Land, and was glad he'd brought his full quiver with him
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The Englishman couldn't decide to hit the world class right, or the world class left.
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Not wanting to be Spanish is practically a national past time in Spain... and Portugal!
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By 5pm, this Canarian booger was already due his daily body wax.
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Maybe the Germans' state of the art wetsuits have been holding them back.
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This guy's attempts to blend in with the locals didn't go so well...
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Post surf, the Scandi pack reyhrdrated with some much needed juice.
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The two Israeli lads' trip to Indo was a success.
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Where good Italians go when they die: Pasta Point
5. The Aussie
Identified by his stubbie holder, which, incidentally is packed before his toothbrush, the Aussie makes no bones that he is traveling for two reasons – to get tubed and to have a good time. Unfortunately sometimes the latter can obstruct the former. A higher level of surfing ability tends to breed an odd friendly-aggressive line-up act and where a “Fuck off cunt” is actually his way of trying to make friends. Luckily not many make it past the age of 50, sun cancer, liver disease and nightclub bouncers claiming them before pension age.
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