Two near-identical concrete bridges span the public car park that runs in a curving strip behind the sward of grass that separates the lawns of Bondi Park from the golden arc of Bondi Beach.

The first of these bridges is still cordoned off behind blue and white chequered police tape. Its walls and its parapets are pockmarked with bullet holes and stained with the blood of a dead terrorist and his alleged murderer son, who clings to life in a local hospital.

This is the bridge from where the pair are accused of launching the savage assault, with high-powered guns, at 18.47 on Sunday, that killed 16 people who had been attending an event to mark the start of the Jewish festival of Hanukkah.

One of the dozens injured is a friend of a relative of a friend of mine. He was shot in the shoulder and he is recovering in hospital. He was a security guard at the Celebration by the Sea because Jewish celebrations require security guards these days. They have for some time.

This is the bridge where the older terrorist was killed and the younger man was critically injured before he was captured. The innocents that they are accused of murdering ranged in age from 10 years old to 87.

Then there is the other bridge, perhaps 400 yards away from the first. Across it, thousands and thousands of people followed a trail of tears towards the Bondi Pavilion, close to where the shooting happened. Most of them carried bouquets of flowers, great clutches of chrysanthemums and lilies and dahlias.

From morning until darkness, they came and they came in an everlasting pilgrimage to pay their respects, and choke back their grief and vent their anger about the failings of the Australian government that many claim has gradually betrayed the country’s Jewish population and prepared the path to this tragic, villainous point in the country’s history.

The stream of mourners never ceased. They came down the hill from one end of the beach that leads to the spectacular clifftop walk to Coogee. Michael Vaughan, the former England cricket captain, who was caught up in the attack and locked down in a local pub, still sounded shocked on Monday morning.

Tearful mourners lay flowers in tribute to the victims of a terror attack on Bondi Beach

Forensic officers on the bridge where two gunmen are accused of opening fire at Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, 15 December 2025

The bridge was covered in bullet holes while a police cordon remained in place at the scene

A huge floral tribute was laid out at the Bondi Pavilion in honour of the victims who lost their lives

The father and son are said to have opened fire with high-powered guns on Sunday evening, killing 16 people

Sajid Akram was fatally shot shortly before his son, Naveed Akram (pictured squatting next to his father), was shot by officers

Naveed Akram, 24, pictured on the bridge where he and his father allegely launched the savage assault

He talked about how he tried to walk that walk to Bondi every day from the house he owns in Coogee. He said he was in disbelief, not just about the carnage that had been visited on the Jewish community, but about the shattering of the illusion that Australia was a safe place to visit.

At the top of the stairs that led down from Campbell Parade to the main gates of the pavilion, there was a photo of Rabbi Eli Schlanger of the victims of the slaughter. ‘Murdered in cold blood by terrorists in Sydney,’ the words next to it said.

And above those words was a quote from Rabbi Schlanger: ‘In the fight against anti-semitism,’ it said, ‘the way forward is to be more Jewish, to act more Jewish and appear more Jewish.’

Later on Monday, I waited for Mark Bosnich, the former Manchester United and Aston Villa goalkeeper, to arrive to lay a wreath in the growing sea of flowers with his wife, Sarah. Bosnich had bought a huge bouquet and he, too, looked shaken and red-eyed by what had happened. He said that he, like others, had worried something like this was coming.

England has felt this kind of pain before but Australia had not. It felt to many of those at the vigil that the nation had entered a new phase of its history when the father and son murderers unleashed their slaughter on Sunday night.

The majority of the mourners at the vigil, of course, were drawn from the Jewish community, even though they were supported by leaders of different faiths, politicians, military men in gleaming uniforms, lifeguards in their shorts, women in their running gear, hulks of Aussie blokes in rugby tops, young and old, all come to grieve together and show solidarity.

One woman, near the back of the crowd, tried to explain to her young daughter about the bravery of Ahmed Al Ahmed, the hero of Bondi, who disarmed one of the attackers and is now awaiting surgery for gunshot wounds. The little girl looked at her mother, aghast.

But the anger so many in the community feel would not be soothed. ‘For us, as those who are attending, it’s just we have holes in our hearts, we’re grieving,’ said Rabbi Yossi Friedman, until recently the senior rabbi at Sydney’s Maroubra Synagogue.

Former Australian football player Mark Bosnich places flowers at a memorial at Bondi Beach in Sydney

New South Wales Premier Chris Minns (left), and Kellie Sloane, leader of the opposition, prepare to lay wreaths at a tribute for shooting victims outside the Bondi Pavilion at Sydney’s Bondi Beach

The Bondi Beach hero, Ahmed el Ahmed, pictured in hospital with New South Wales premier, Chris Minns

In a heroic act of bravery which was caught on camera, el Ahmed wrestled the gun off one of the active shooters

The terrorists on Sunday night targeted a Jewish event celebrating the first night of Hanukkah (pictured, mourners at a memorial at Bondi Pavilion on Monday)

NSW Police has established a community reception centre in Coogee to help the loved ones of victims (pictured, a mourner at the memorial in Bondi on Monday)

‘I think when hate goes unchecked for too long, and when people see there aren’t consequences brought down to put an end to that hate, then one thing leads to another and it ends with, as we saw yesterday, a tragedy. For the past two years we’ve seen huge increases in anti-Semitic attacks.

‘You may see the words, it goes to graffiti… All around the world. Words to graffiti, to synagogue fire bombings, targeting homes. And well, where’s this going to go? And sadly, tragedy, as we saw. So I think that’s how we got here, unfortunately. It’s hate.

‘Hate divides, it tears us apart. And what we need to see is strong leadership to end this hate. And if we don’t have that leadership, then it needs to come from the ground up, from Aussies, regular Aussies, civilians, citizens, who will say, ‘Not enough, not enough is being done and we need to stand up and do it ourselves, and not under my watch.’

‘This is partly about immigration. You need a comprehensive policy that screens effectively people coming from war-torn areas that may have terrorist backgrounds themselves. Not just letting them in with a couple of days screening, but proper processes put in place. We have to give the directive that we have zero tolerance, we have zero for any hate.’

Some of the anger spilled out in mid-afternoon when two female pro-Palestinian supporters arrived at the vigil. One began to film the Jewish mourners. ‘You’re a disgrace,’ one mourner shouted out. ‘Shame on you, we are grieving,’ another yelled. ‘This is not your place,’ someone else said. A lady next to me shook her head as the women were lead away.

‘Antagonistic is what it was,’ she said.

Many of the mourners arrived and left in tears. Many brought their dogs. Many formed tight circles and hugged each other close. At one point, they gathered in a large semi-circle around the sea of flowers and sang a haunting rendition of the Memorial Prayer and then the Prayer for Peace.

‘I take my kids to school every day and they’re almost used to the fact that there are going to be three police and security guards there screening everyone coming in,’ Rabbi Friedman said.

‘It’s really sad. This is the way that the Jewish community has to live. And it shouldn’t be this way. No one should live in fear.

‘I sincerely hope that this event, this catastrophe, doesn’t just pass and people get back to their everyday lives. I hope people see it for what it is, that this is hate now spiralling.

‘And it’s not just coming after the Jewish people, they fire indiscriminately, Jew, non-Jew. They’re against our Australian way of life and our Australian values. That’s what they’re after. And the sooner that we all wake up to that, the better off we’ll be as a society.’

And still the mourners kept arriving and the crowd kept swelling and the workmen kept labouring to clear the scene of its horrors a hundred yards or so away.

All around was the smell of the sea, the crashing of the waves and the surf rolling and roiling like avenging white angels. Bondi Beach, for so long the epitome of the Australian dream, will never be quite the same again.