Elsa Pataky looks chic on a smoothie run near Byron Bay while husband Chris Hemsworth parties with his A-list pals in Europe - as the couple spend weeks apart
On Monday, the Spanish actress stepped out in Lennox Head, near the mansion she shares with Chris in Byron Bay, to pick up some green smoothies.
The 49-year-old dressed in a retro ensemble for the solo date, including a pair of brown corduroy jeans and a 1970s-style baby tee with a faded graphic print.
Elsa added a black cap with white lettering and brown bedazzled sneakers, as well as sunglasses with yellow lenses.
She appeared to have on minimal makeup and wore her blonde locks down in soft waves.
The Furiosa star finished her look with a smattering of gold accessories including a bangle and dainty necklace.
Elsa had the family dog in tow, as well as one of her young sons who also enjoyed an orange smoothie.
While Elsa handles parenting duty solo, Chris rang in his 42nd birthday in spectacular style over the weekend - partying with an entourage of A-list friends in Ibiza.
The Thor star appeared to be having the time of his life as he celebrated with a lunch at celebrity hotspot Casa Jondal and a cruise on a luxury boat with a star-studded guest list, including brothers Liam and Luke Hemsworth, Matt Damon, pop sensation Rita Ora and her husband, director Taika Waititi, and Patrick and Pia Whitesell.
But there was one very important person who was missing from the celebrations - his wife.
She stayed on the other side of the world in Australia, after returning home from her native Spain.
The mother-of-three looked somewhat downcast on Friday while running her errands as she ferried a box of goods from the shops to her car and took what appeared to be a tense phone call.
Meanwhile, 15,853km away, the atmosphere was electric as Chris and his famous friends enjoyed the birthday bash on Sunday amid the sparkling Ibiza waters.
Although Elsa did not accompany her husband at the celebration, she did share a sweet birthday tribute to him on social media on Monday - his actual birthday.
Elsa added a black cap with white lettering and brown bedazzled sneakers, as well as sunglasses with yellow lenses
Alongside a throwback photo of her embracing Chris, Elsa wrote some heartfelt words: 'Happy Birthday to my Rocky Balboa. You're the best of the best.'
It comes after Chris and Elsa spent most of the European summer apart.
Elsa was in her native Spain for weeks, filming her new TV series, Matices.
Meanwhile, Chris was travelling, even attending the final day of Wimbledon without his wife .
Chris also enjoyed a beachside escape in Hossegor, France, with his longtime personal trainer and best mate Luke Zocchi, while Elsa enjoyed her own holiday in her native Spain.
They later reunited in July for the Thor star's new National Geographic series, Limitless: Live Better Now, with twin sons, Tristan and Sasha, 11, in London.
The couple tied the knot during the Christmas holidays in 2010.
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Daily Mail
2 hours ago
- Daily Mail
American mom living in Australia reveals major differences between kids' birthday parties in the two countries
An American mom who moved to Australia has revealed the biggest differences between kid's birthday parties in the two countries. In a recent video posted to TikTok, Lex, who has lived in Australia for almost a year, sparked a viral conversation after she detailed the top five variations when it comes to children's bashes - and how her family has adapted to them. 'They're just a little bit different from birthday parties in American,' the mom, who lives in Brisbane, Queensland, explained. Joking that her son is turning six soon so she's got 'birthday parties on the brain,' Lex went on to list the five keys differences. The first difference she noticed after going to a 'handful' of birthday parties down under is how 'laid back and chill' the parties were. Lex noted that in America, she feels as though birthday parties are trying to 'keep up with the Joneses.' 'You have these big, extravagant birthday parties [in the US],' she explained. As an example, she added: 'We went to a birthday party one time where they bought a petting zoo to the kid's house.' 'So what I enjoy here is that you know, most of the birthday parties we've been to have been at people's homes or at the park down the road,' added the mom-of-one. 'They ain't worried about having the perfect venue and spending all this money 'Also decorations are super chill, there's no decorations like balloon arches. There are decorations but it's just very simple.' The second difference was that there's less paper and plastic products used at birthday parties in Australia. 'In the States, we use paper plates and plastic forks and knives and plates all the time,' explained Lex. 'Therefore, it's much more common at birthday parties to see them in excess.' Meanwhile, in Australia, she said her son has been to a few birthday parties where they don't even offer plates for cake; instead, they give it to the kids in a napkin - sometimes without forks even. 'It was perfectly fine,' she quipped. 'Why are we using all these paper and plastic products?' The mom said the third difference was her 'favorite.' 'I love it when Australian's sing Happy Birthday,' she gushed. 'They say "hip, hip, hooray" at the end.' 'I love how much our son loves it now too,' she added. 'That's his favorite part of the son.' The fourth major difference according to Lex was the snacks offered at Australian birthday parties. She listed chocolate crackles, fairy bread (sprinkles on buttered white bread), and and the 'party mix' gummy candy. 'I just noticed in general that the snacks people offer here are different,' she observed. The fifth difference was that most of the cakes at Australian birthday parties are homemade. 'I think it's amazing and wholesome that the parents make the cakes,' she said, citing a popular cookbook, The Women's Weekly Birthday Cake Cookbook. 'I'm a big fan of all five differences,' she fondly reflected. 'I can't say there's one thing I miss.' The video went viral and users were divided in the comment section over whether these rules applied to all parts of Australia - with some suggesting it may be regional specific. 'Probably in Brisbane but you come to Sydney and it's a completely different story,' one user wrote. Another chimed in with her birthday memories, sharing: 'We had a pool and my birthday is October so my birthday parties were always a pool party with a BBQ, super fun and super easy. 'We'd play pass the parcel, the chocolate game, the doughnut game and lots of pool games. I loved it and my friends loved it.' 'It's all about everyone having a great relaxed day,' agreed someone else.
The Guardian
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My husband always dreamed of distant oceans. With a volunteer crew, I gave him a sailor's farewell
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Adorning the lid is the only epitaph that seemed to fit: 'Cosmos Mariner, Destination Unknown'. It's resting in a basket of yellow rose petals. On our first trip out of Mooloolaba harbour, John was jubilant. He was born a restless soul, saltwater in his veins and distant oceans in his dreams. As a child in Amsterdam in the 1940s, his beloved 'toys' were the tools he found in his grandfather's ship's carpenter sea chest. He ran away to sea as a teenager in the 1950s, signing on to the merchant navy for a string of passages across the North Sea. He migrated to Australia in the early 1960s and was among the first to surf the now-famous Bells beach waves in Victoria. In Queensland in the early 1970s, he taught himself to sail in a little Arafura Cadet, winning the novice championship in his first year at Keppel Bay Sailing Club. Taurus, an Arrow catamaran, was the first of his home-built craft. John's dreams soon outgrew the bay; the nearby islands beckoned. 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The Guardian
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‘I couldn't have done this in my 20s': Some of us dread ageing. For these stage actors, it makes them freer than ever
Robert Meldrum stalks the stage of the Explosives Factory in St Kilda in a long coat and hat, bewildered and buffeted by a lifetime of memories, grappling with grief and attrition in a dimming and desolate landscape. He's not suffering from any loss of faculties; he's simply an actor inhabiting the world of Samuel Beckett. Meldrum and his director and longtime collaborator, Richard Murphet (both in their mid-70s), are preparing to open Still, a compendium of six monologues cobbled from the Irish writer's later works. While it speaks to universal themes of resilience and despair, it also captures the experience of any ageing actor who puts their body through the nightly rigours of stage work. As Beckett says in his 1953 novel The Unnamable, ' … you must go on. I can't go on. I'll go on.' 'I don't think I could in any way have done this in my 20s,' says Meldrum. 'My ability to be completely still and present enables me to go into this work in a way I couldn't before.' 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Maybe it takes a lifetime?' Evelyn Krape has experienced something of a career renaissance lately, wowing audiences in Kadimah Yiddish Theatre's production of Yentl, playing an ancient mischievous spirit – an irrepressible agent of chaos scampering up ladders and jumping on beds. She also recently finished a run in Tom Gleisner and Katie Weston's musical Bloom, carrying the emotional stakes of the show as a vibrant, colourful woman coming to the end of her life in a soulless nursing home. The latter is a rare naturalistic, age-appropriate role for 76-year-old Krape, who has specialised in a more freewheeling and vaudevillian performance style, notably in the plays of her late husband Jack Hibberd. 'I've never really played my age. In Dimboola I played a nine-year-old girl. At 21, I played Granny Hills in the Hills Family Show, where I had thick knitting yarn sewn in between two stockings to give me varicose veins.' At 61, actor and cabaret legend Paul Capsis is younger than Krape and Meldrum, but after the recent death of his mother he's found himself thinking about second acts, and what his might look like. 'If anything, I'm planning on being crazier and more debauched,' he jokes over the phone from Lisbon, where he's having a break before starting rehearsals for STC's upcoming production of The Shiralee. 'Because I don't feel any different, you know? I still think I'm 35 – and then my body goes 'Oh hell no, bitch!'' Capsis doesn't necessarily place restrictions on himself as a performer these days, but he does want more agency over certain conditions. 'I've turned down gigs because they were asking me to sing in that countertenor range, and I just don't want to do that to my voice any more. I'm also much more interested in a director's process. I want to know as much as I can before going in.' Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion While fear – of forgetting lines or blocking, or folding under the pressures of a long run – can increase with age, so too does confidence in one's skills. 'I feel more certain about myself as a performer,' Krape says. 'I'm not afraid to really go for things and if they work, they work. If they don't, you try something else.' All the actors Guardian spoke with mentioned wanting more time in the rehearsal room. Most commercial theatre productions have a three-week rehearsal period, 'which is not enough,' says Capsis. 'Not nearly enough.' 'A gift for an actor is a second or third season,' says Krape. 'Because you can't help but scratch the surface the first time. If you don't get that time to really play, things are more token and superficial.' Meldrum and Murphet extended their rehearsal process over an entire year. It's a method drawn from famed European theatre companies such as Berlin's Schaubühne or Peter Brook's Bouffes du Nord, where rehearsal periods are ongoing and open-ended. 'There was no time frame [for Still],' says Meldrum. 'We just worked until it was ready.' Of course, financial constraints mean this type of deep exploration is rare. Most actors in Australia, even at the pointy ends of their careers, work hand to mouth and can't afford to luxuriate over roles. Retirement seems almost unthinkable. 'There's still so much I want to do. I hope not to have to retire,' says Krape. Meldrum is blunter: 'I can't afford to retire.' Why even countenance the idea when the work is so rewarding and the contributions these actors make so vitalising for an industry often transfixed by youth? Murphet says the work 'keeps me alive, it keeps me energised. And if I wasn't doing it, then I would slip into senility. So I can't say that there's anything about it that makes me feel old, because there isn't.'
