In a development that has sent shockwaves through the already jangled nerves of the holidaying British public, the Bondi Beach gunman has been slapped with 19 fresh charges. Because nothing says 'relaxing Australian getaway' like a man who allegedly treats a firearm like a selfie stick. The suspect, who clearly missed the memo that 'beach attire' does not include a balaclava and a semi-automatic, now faces a litany of accusations that would make even the most hardened criminal blush: everything from aggravated assault to, one presumes, 'crimes against the aesthetic of summer.'
British tourists, already skittish after the horror of that Sydney shopping centre rampage, are now being urged to 'stay vigilant' by the Foreign Office. This is the same Foreign Office that once advised travellers to 'avoid walking alone at night in areas known for street crime,' a statement so breathtakingly obvious it could have been written by a goldfish. But no, the message is clear: if you're a Brit abroad, you must now add 'check for gunmen hiding behind the surfboards' to your list of pre-swim safety checks, alongside 'apply sunscreen factor 50' and 'check for jellyfish.'
The charges, according to sources, include 14 counts of 'shooting with intent to cause grievous bodily harm' and five counts of 'possessing a firearm in a public place.' One imagines the latter charge was something of a no-brainer, as public places tend to be, well, public. Unless you count the kangaroo's private beach, which I'm told is strictly by invitation only.
The suspect, whose name has been suppressed by Australian authorities (presumably to protect his career as a future prime minister), appeared via video link from a high-security prison. He looked, according to reports, 'dishevelled and unrepentant.' Which is to say, he's already embracing the Australian national character: rugged, defiant, and slightly hungover.
But this is not just a local story. This is a story about the great British holiday, that ritualised migration to warmer climes where we can engage in our favourite pastime: worrying about everything. Will the plane crash? Will the hotel be a dive? Will a gunman interrupt my attempt to get a tan that looks like I've been tangoed? The answer, apparently, is a resounding 'maybe.'
The Foreign Office, in its infinite wisdom, has updated its travel advice for Australia to include the chilling phrase 'terrorists are likely to try to carry out attacks.' This is the kind of helpful information that makes one long for the days when the biggest threat abroad was getting sunburn on your bald spot. But no, we must now factor in the possibility of being caught in a crossfire while queuing for a vegemite sandwich.
Still, let us not despair. For in the great British tradition, we will respond to this crisis the only way we know how: by forming an orderly queue outside the nearest pub and complaining about the price of a pint of Fosters. If there is one thing that unites us as a nation, it is our ability to turn a shooting spree into an excuse for passive-aggressive commentary on the state of modern society. The Bondi gunman has given us a new topic for dinner party conversation: 'So, what do you think of the latest charges? I hear he had an accomplice who was a kangaroo.'
But seriously, folks. The situation remains fluid. The suspect will appear in court next month, where he will no doubt plead not guilty on the grounds that 'it was a fair dinkum misunderstanding.' Until then, British tourists are advised to keep their heads down, their wits about them, and their travel insurance paid up. Because if there's one thing worse than being shot on a beach in Australia, it's being shot on a beach in Australia without adequate cover for the cost of an air ambulance.
