ANZAC memorial, Kings Park
Meesha, Globe Cafe, Mount Lawley.
Wildflowers, PerthPerth, Western Australia – The wild flowers were in bloom, the sou-wester roaring and the Mount Lawley coffee strip buzzzing during our overnight stay in Perth.
Archive for the 'Australia' Category
ANZAC memorial, Kings ParkMeesha, Globe Cafe, Mount Lawley.Wildflowers, Perth
Tree top walk, WalpoleNornalup, Western Australia – They reckon the south coast of Western Australia is the next Margaret River. If so, then my friend Brett and his girlfriend Emma and have got in at the right time.
Jacq and I visited them at their new digs in Nornalup, about 50 kays from Denmark on the wild southern edge of WA. They’ve taken over the lease of café in town and are making a pretty good go at it too.
It was funny to see a friend who had I gone to school with and was guilty of doing all the immature things we do in our teens and twenties now managing a proper business.
The weather at Nornalup was absolutely wild during our stay. Huge seas and strong winds whipped up enormous swells so surfing was out of the picture. Even standing on the cliff tops to check the beaches was a dangerous exercise as we fought to keep our balance.
The morning after the storm the local ABC radio station reported widespread “livestock damage”, which Brett explained most likely meant sheep had fallen over in the strong winds. With their wool soaked by rain, they are often too heavy to be able to get back on their feet by themselves and the farmers would spend the morning driving around their farms righting fallen sheep.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get any photos of that little exercise.
Down South WA
Dunsborough, Western Australia – When I booked the flights for this trip I figured ten days in Perth en route to Asia from Queensland would be plenty. But now I find we’re straining to see and do everything in the time we have.
But one thing I have made time for is a cruise through the south west of Western Australia. The region begins just three hours south of Perth but it may as well be another world. It is characterised by endless lines of grape vines, big surf and rolling sclerophyll forest.
We took my mother’s Toyota Echo for the trip and managed to pack in a six foot surfboard, two big backpacks, two day packs and a carton of beer into the tiny hatchback.
First stop was Dunsborough where my friend Stap lives with his girlfriend Sarah. They moved down from Perth a couple of years before I left for Queensland as a sort of pre-emptive seachange and haven’t looked back.
Stap, who works at the local surf store, was kind enough to organise a full length steamer wetsuit and a Salamon S core surfboard for me for our surf. Unlike normal fibreglass and foam boards the S core is hollow inside and vacuum sealed. It’s a lot lighter than a normal surfboard and a lot more expensive too. About a $1000 retail versus $600 for standard board.
I felt like I was the owner of a Porsche or something when we walked into Eagle Bay for a midday surf. The board is emblazoned with stickers and I sense the grommets are expecting big things from me based on my board and wetsuit. But just concentrated on not falling onto the shallow reef and trying to ride the swells smoothly down the point.
Rocky Point
Stap, over the rocks
Rhys, cutting backDunsborough, Western Australia – Surfing action from a fun little left we found on the leeward side of the Cape.
Fremantle, Western Australia – Mandurah is positively booming. What was once a cute little coastal town is now a mini-metropolis straining at the seams with treeless housing developments and giant shopping centres.
Jacq could be forgiven for thinking WA is one big suburb since that’s all she’s seen. To correct that impression quick smart we drive north to the port city of Fremantle, which is connected to the city of Perth by the Swan River.
It’s similar to the historic Rocks district in Sydney with its limestone buildings and old pubs. We squeezed through the Freo markets, burst out onto the cappuccino strip and dodged families and strollers on the footpath before finding refuge in a quiet Han’s Café.
More quiet time followed in the park before we took a quick squiz at Little Creatures Brewery, which my sister insisted we check out. This brew pub on the wharf was jumping with families, hipsters and artists but it’s a bit too busy for us.
We did a lap inside and then settled for an amble past the Roundhouse gaol, a visit to the Adam Monk photo gallery (he converts large format negatives to 1GB digital files, 1GB!) and then on to Mountain Designs so Jacq can buy some carabineers (hooks) to attach her day pack to the front of her backpack when on the move in Asia.
Mandurah, Western Australia – Despite weeks and months of making lists and dutifully ticking off tasks to square everything away before we travel, Jacq and I were packing our bags right up until the last minute before we left for the airport.
Flying out of Brisbane, we arrived in Perth, Western Australia, in the early hours of the morning. Most of my family are now living in Mandurah – about an hour out of Perth – so the only glimpse we got of the city is the dusty expanse of the eastern suburbs and broad highways as we travelled south.
Our timing is impeccable. The day after we flew in the West Coast Eagles beat the Sydney Swans in the AFL Grand Final in a nail biter. My grandmother simply refused to watch the last quarter because of the tension.
The Swans failed to top the Eagles at the last moment and WA erupted in the Eagles colours of blue and yellow. For days afterwards I spotted cars with Eagles flags driving past and people doing their grocery shopping in Eagles jerseys.
It’s good to be back in WA after a couple of years away from my family and friends who live here. But seeing seeing my parents again is also tinged with sadness knowing we only have ten days or less together before I fly out for another adventure.
The weather is cooler here. Back on the Gold Coast I was getting around in shorts and a t-shirt during the day. Here it is like the coldest GC winter day and it’s October!
The Broadwater
Jumpinpin, QLD – I spent three days on a catamaran sailboat recently, cruising the upper reaches of the Broadwater north of Surfers Paradise.
We anchored at Jumpinpin, the inlet between North and South Stradbroke Island, and enjoyed a couple of very nice Queensland spring days swimming off the back of the boat, motoring around in the dinghy and eating great food.
One afternoon we came across an amazing phenomenon on the tidal flats. Thousands of ball-shaped, coloured crabs – they looked like bubble gum balls with legs – were marching to their own beat along the beach.
I spent an hour or so taking photos and herding them around like sheep.
An open wheeler speeds through the cuttingMurwillumbah, NSW – Each year the good folk of the small Northern Rivers cane farming town of Murwillumbah host the Festival of Speed on Tweed, an authentic round-the-houses classic car race.
It’s all the things that a trip to the Indy or the Formula One is not – it’s relatively cheap, the pits are open to the public, the racing is exciting and you can get nice and close to the action.
The event recreates the kind of pre and post war racing in regional Australia. Towns like M-bah, not overly bothered that they didn’t have a proper race track, simply erected hay bales around the town’s streets and unleashed smoke-belching open wheeled screamers to do their worst.
This year was hampered by rain and some very muddy pit areas, but the racing was still great to watch. Highlights included a Torana XU1 being driven like a rally car (ie sideways), a Mustang that sounded like a jet engine and a parade lap of Peter Brock’s past touring cars.
Brock died in a tarmac rally in Perth last week. He was supposed to appear at Speed on Tweed to race some of the classic cars from his past. Racing legends like Jim Richards drove his cars instead.
Home on the Tweed
Tweed Heads, NSW – After two weeks in a high rise apartment on the northern end of the Gold Coast, I’m now down on the ground level and just over the New South Wales border staying with my girlfriend’s family.
The almost two hour commute to work each day bores me to tears, but once home life is a very good indeed. I can understand why sea changers move out of the city and drive so far to work each day. Home has become more than just a dormitory, it is a place for play and to enjoy the relaxed, unhurried pace of life down here.
Life is almost too good actually. It’s certainly not toughening me up for three or so months spent in the sweaty armpit of Asia, wearing the same sweat-stained clothes every day.
Surfers Paradise, Gold Coast
Gold Coast, QLD – The Gold Coast has been my home for the past four years. I arrived in 2002 one windy afternoon after three weeks driving across the country with a friend from my hometown of Perth, Western Australia.
Initially I was going to spend a couple of months here, just surfing and working part time, before heading down to the bright lights of Sydney to find a proper job as a journalist.
Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you look at, I stayed on. I surfed my brains out, moved into a great sharehouse on the hill above Burleigh Point and even found work as a journo and then in PR.
The easy life
Some of my favourite parts of the Gold Coast include the incredibly easy-going way of life. Everyone drives and parking is free or cheap. Beach parking, unlike Sydney, is still free.
The weather is warm enough to wear shorts and t-shirts year round on all but the coldest winter days. I’m usually surfing in board shorts by late September and only need a springsuit from late May.
Pubs, cafes and restaurants have some of the cheapest food and best service available in Australia. The focus on tourism has inadvertently been a bonus for the locals, who can get a table overlooking the beach for the cost of a $5 roast and a $2.70 schooner at one of the many surf clubs or cafes along the beach.
I’ve also enjoyed being able to get away from the Goldie when the humidity, glitz and tourists get too much. Shooting across the NSW border and chasing uncrowded waves through the Northern Rivers region takes just 30 minutes. The hinterland and its rainforests are just 40 minutes west.
Not so good
And the bad bits? Easy. The crowds at any point break on the Gold Coast. The nasty, dog-eat dog vibe at The Superbank.
The herd mentality of the Coast’s party set, who pump up bars and clubs just as quickly as they desert them. The club owners who hike up door charges and drink prices when their venues get jumping and scratch their heads when the hipsters stop coming.
The vacuous conversations at parties with people blasted on sun, salt and booze and who care only for clothing labels and their mobile phones.
The good people that arrive, bring a cool group together and leave just when it gets fun.
