Perth Unexpected

I liked Perth way more than I had anticipated. It was a city to be certain, yet it maintained a homey, small town vibe. Every neighborhood we explored was, for lack of a better word, adorable, with their quaint painted store fronts and eclectic eateries. Greenery appeared to be an integral part of the city, which cut down on the concrete jungle feel. Not to mention all the reserves and National Parks surrounding the city. Oh, and let’s not forget the pristine beaches that were actually safe to swim in. It took less than a day before Looci and I were both saying we wished we had moved to Perth during our one-year visas.

We stayed in a beautiful house in the suburb of Mt Lawley with my friend Rachael. Rachael and I met in acting school at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts four years prior; it felt like no time had passed at all. She was the same genuine, caring, lovely human that I remembered, and it wasn’t long before we were both up to speed on each other’s lives and the goings on of the past four years. 

It was a welcome change to the constant driving and small quarters of the van, to spend four nights in a stationary bed and not have to walk through cold, dark, bug infested terrain to access the toilet in the middle of the night.

Since Hagrid was in need of a little TLC, we dropped him off at a tyre shop and met up with Benji, our friend from Melbourne; he had moved to Perth a few months before. Lemons hung into a lane of manicured facades, and white-picket fences. A local out for a stroll bid us, “g’day” as we approached a public park. Just beyond its leafy borders we entered a Chinatown district.

Benji was waiting for us at Ichiraku, a little ramen restaurant with outdoor seating and digital ordering pads. We talked through the past through months, Benji was working at a hostel in Northbridge and was thoroughly enjoying the laid-back lifestyle in Perth. With full bellies we followed him home for a cup of coffee and sat outside in the sun playing guitar.

For our second precious Perth day, we took the Sealink ferry over to Rottnest Island, a tourist spot for locals and travelers alike, and quite famous for its friendly inhabitants: quokkas. Now until I moved to Australia, I had never even heard of these small marsupials. I quickly learned that they were highly coveted for their Instagramability; a quokka selfie was basically a rite of passage.

Looci and I wandered past an old white church that once served as the schoolhouse for the entire island, and into a village of dull orange houses. As it was off season the tiny holiday homes were completely vacant, casting a ghost-town aura over the avenue. Not long into our stroll we spotted our first quokka, or a group of them rather. My excitement multiplied when I realized the closest one had a baby in its pouch. To be honest quokkas looked like big rats that got crossbred with chipmunks.

After snapping my first selfie with a quokka, we continued to a coastal path leading to Bathurst Lighthouse, one of the two on the island. In the distance we could see the skyline of Perth, shadowed by a shallow layer of mist.

Beyond the lighthouse, where a group of people lingered to take selfies, we found the white sands of Pinky Beach. Let me get a little bit ahead of myself and just say that all the beaches on Rottnest were breathtakingly beautiful, with clear abalone waters, and patches of dark coral. I couldn’t get enough of them; they were like eye candy.

Pinky Beach gave way to The Basin, a long stretch of sand leading past more holiday homes, including a collection of new eco-huts, for the wealthy glamper (glamorous camper). A couple of people pulled on wetsuits and prepared to go snorkeling. I don’t know if I admired them or thought they were crazy. It was exceedingly cold, though fortunately the sun took off some of the edge.

We followed what we thought was the trail into a collection of sand dunes overlooking Fays Bay as it flowed to merge with Geordie Bay. The wind dusted our ankles with sand and tickled the scattered grasses till they danced. My stomach let out a loud rumble and the blister on my left pinky toe was beginning to ache. Originally, I thought we would bike everywhere, so it didn’t matter what shoes I wore. But the half day bike rental was heaps cheaper, so we elected to walk in the morning and roll in the afternoon.

Looci was ready for a break as well, so we followed one of the paved roads back to Thompson Bay where the ferry had dropped us. After surveying our food options, we got coffees and baked goods from the bakery and sat on the patio where a wild peacock was searching for scraps.

It didn’t take long before a couple of quokkas decided to investigate us. I’m sure they were disappointed when we didn’t offer up our food. Distracted looking over the pictures I had taken, I didn’t notice one hop up on the bench next to me until Looci made a noise. I barely had a chance to react before the little creature was in my lap. I laughed and begged it not to pee on me. It sat there for a few minutes, graciously allowing me to take all the selfies, and even pet it. Then it went on to explore the bag of the person sitting further along the bench.

Rejuvenated we hired two bikes and set off towards the other end of the island. My exploration ambitions were high as I had been told the island was relatively flat with a few hills.

All lies.

The island was quite hilly, which meant it took longer than anticipated to travel. In addition, I got confused by some of the signage and led Looci down an old abandoned dirt railroad track near the Army Jetty. Fortunately, I discovered my error before we got too far along. From then on it was paved roads only, which was great cause the front tyre on my bike was bald.  

Up and down we rode, past Henrietta Rocks and Porpoise Bay to Parker Point. There weren’t many tall trees on that part of Rottnest, mostly unkempt shrubs and windswept bushes. As a result, we had an unobstructed view of the shoreline.

A yacht had laid anchor in the sandy bottom of Parker Point. I watched a passenger jump into the cool blue undisturbed waters. A reef blocked waves so that the only ripples came from the man casually gliding his arms across the surface.

Salmon Bay was one of my favorite spots. A group of young guys tossed a football around on the sand, while a young mother introduced her children to the water. Looci and I watched them for a moment before continuing on to Wandjemup Lighthouse, the hardest hill we would face.

We had been warned the way was steep, and I was prepared to give it my all. I was almost to the top when the all too familiar sensation blossomed from my chest. I couldn’t breathe, not properly anyway. The air was coming in but there were rocks in my lungs preventing it from getting into my body. A wise person would have stopped. I kept going, promising my body a good rest and a hit from my inhaler when I reached the top. This was the first time on the entire road trip that I had an asthma attack and it was also the only time I had my inhaler on me. Talk about lucky.

After that hill we agreed to return to Thompson Bay. Our ferry would be along shorty and if we attempted to venture further there was a large chance, we would miss it. Farther along the coast at Cathedral Rocks, seals congregated to relax. I was sad we wouldn’t see them, but my lungs rejoiced in the fact that the day was almost over.

Back on the mainland we swung by Little Creatures Brewery situated right on the water. It was such a chill venue and if we had time, I would have gladly stayed all night. Instead I bought a couple stubbies to go and we joined Rachael and her boyfriend Luke for a night of card games and laughs.

Our final day in Perth arrived and I wasn’t going to waste a minute. The sun rose to a frosty world and set to work thawing it. I waited just long enough for the chill to break before walking to Hyde Park. Down into the base of the green bowl, I found a sunny patch of grass between two duck filled ponds and settled in on my yoga mat.

I began my practice with a hoodie, a thermal, and socks; I ended my practice barefoot and in my sports bra. It was going to be a beautiful day!

After a quick rinse off, Looci, Rachael, and I baked scones and whipped up our own cream. It was a three-ingredient recipe I had been given by someone we met on the road, and it didn’t disappoint. The scones were so good I ate three and considered a fourth.

Rachael had a full day planned, starting with a walk in King’s Park. Melbourne had some nice city views from across the Yarra River, and Sydney had the lovely harbor landscape, but the view of Perth from King’s Park was something entirely different. I felt like a Greek god standing on Mount Olympus looking over the city below.

People sat under a bouquet of colorful umbrellas which were part of a spring art installations. Just beyond them a memorial or remembrance was taking place, with guests dressed in their best attire. Then of course there were the regular families enjoying the warmer weather. Racheal led us to the main viewpoint and guided us through the different trails, across bridges, past streams, and to an old baobab tree. We only bit off a section of the park, but I could have easily lost myself in it.

Next she took us to Scarborough Beach, a hip, modern spot with plenty of shops, restaurants, a playground, and skatepark. None of us had worn bathers, though it was probably warm enough to swim. We walked along the bike path, watching people enjoy their Saturdays, and feeling the embrace of the sun. Rachael took us to a viewpoint past all the hustle and bustle. A surfer rode a wave to its demise, then swam out to catch another.

I wasn’t ready to leave Perth. I wasn’t ready to leave Australia. I had only touched the surface of what it had to offer, of the potential places I might one day call home.

That evening we Looci and I sang at an Open Mic in the CBD. It was an odd venue with Moroccan fusion decor and our audience was modest; but we had the support of Racheal and Benji so that’s all the really mattered. When travelling it’s important to hang on to your hobbies, rather than neglect or forget them. Overall, we each sang two solos and four duets. It was a fun night and ended with “pay what you feel” Indian food at Elizabeth Quay.

I hate goodbyes, yet I’ve chosen a lifestyle that is riddled with them. Benji and I agreed to run into each other in a different country, perhaps the UK or Canada. Rachael encouraged me to return, and I promised to try and make it back before another four years had flown by. I knew it wouldn’t be the last I would see of them and I knew it wouldn’t be the last I would see of Perth.