Perth - Wine, Bells, a Dodgy Pub, Mad Bus Drivers and even Madder Horses

Well first the good news – Lolly, Johann’s dog which was mauled by a bull terrier, is now out of hospital and is making a good recovery. She has been very brave over the last few traumatic days, as indeed has Lolly, although with a vet’s bill of over $1500 we suspect there may be a relapse. As Lolly carried no insurance lets hope the attacking dog’s owners can be persuaded to cough up.

Johann met Anathalia for the first time and they seem to have hit it off very well judging by the photograph and Johann has offered to be acting grandmother whilst Sandra is away on her travels.

The flight back to Perth was incident free and even the jetstream played its part as it disappeared thus, without having to battle headwinds, the plane made it in 4 hours instead of the usual five. We were met at the airport by John and Marie who had been looking after our car whilst we were in Sydney. The following day was very busy – a trip to a local beauty spot was followed by a long, leisurely lunch in a restaurant idyllically sited on the banks of the Swan River. Watching boats and canoes whilst sipping white wine we could have been on one of the rural stretches of the Thames – if it wasn’t for the vineyards on the other side of the river! A trip to a local ice cream parlour for a totally unnecessary dessert then on to the main business of the day – a visit to a local winery.

John and Marie had introduced us to “The Brothers” wine which they seemed to buy in great quantity, usually in two litre flagons. This was made by two brothers who, in 1950, had emigrated from Calabria in Southern Italy and had never been back. The wine itself was of the quaffable, rough and ready variety and mainly went to other wineries for blending rather than being bottled and retailed although a number of restaurants bought it in bulk to use as their house wine. We were met by Eugenio, one of the brothers, who in a thick Aussie / Italian accent, invited us to sample the wines – after many samples Sandra settled on a robust little Grenache which, at $5 for a two little flagon would hardly break the bank, so she took three.

The following day we put the car in for a service and took the train Fremantle. Perth, the WA capital, sits on the Swan River and is actually several miles inland whilst Fremantle, at the mouth of the river, is the port. We had brunch at a pavement café and then, unfortunately, explored the markets. “Unfortunately” as Johann, who on her way back to Sydney had stayed in Melbourne for a few days, had told Sandra it was “very sophisticated” and Sandra, who has basically been dressing for the bush for the last six months, decided she needed to buy some “sophisticated” clothes if we were to call in at Melbourne. This was more than the excuse she needed and, by the end of the day, we were laden with three pairs of trousers, a top, a jacket and all topped of with a new hat!

We stopped in Perth for a wander on the way back and both agreed Perth had a good feel to it – particularly the city centre which was compact, clean, well organised and interesting. One interesting feature was the very futuristic bell tower down by the waterfront – an apparently controversial building which, somewhat surprisingly, houses the bells from St. Martins-in-the-Fields in London. Another interesting feature, also by the waterfront, was a pub with a rather unfortunate name, which Sandra was seen sneaking into perhaps more in hope than expectation.

They do things differently in Australia! On our way back to the railway station the surrounding area was snarled up in an enormous traffic jam. They have “bendy buses” in Perth which are effectively two buses joined together by a concertina affair in the middle. One of these very long bendy buses has failed to take a corner properly and was jammed up against a street sign. Unable to go forward or reverse it was stuck fast - as was all the traffic coming up behind. The bus driver stopped a bus going in the opposite direction and asked the driver for help. Willing to oblige he stopped his bus to lend a hand, thus blocking all the traffic in the other carriageway. The two drivers, seemingly oblivious to the mayhem and tooting which was reaching a crescendo, pondered the problem and came up with a practical solution – if the bus couldn’t be moved the road sign would have to go. They then grabbed the street sign, put their feet up against the bus for leverage, and proceeded to pull it down.

Sunday – and finally back on the road again. Heading east along (somewhat illogically) the Great Southern Highway we arrived at York in time for an early lunch. York was the first inland town of Western Australia to be established and we arrived on race day – the place was throbbing. Not only were the races on there was a Sunday market towards which Sandra was inevitably drawn. Finding all sorts of “crafty” people to talk to (they wanted her to set up her stall there and then) I was as usual left to my own devices and decided to fill in my time by sampling the wares on Mrs Pert’s Jam and Chutney stall. Mrs Pert’s mother was on duty at the time and hearing my Scottish accent she was keen to know if I had ever heard of a place called Beauly near Inverness. Telling her I knew it well she said that it wasn’t actually Beauly itself but that she had lived at No 1 Farley (?) Croft several miles above Beauly. (This I feel is one for further investigation Ron)

Leaving York, Sandra went looking for the wildflowers that the area is apparently famous for but with little luck as there has been very little rain recently. This is the Wheat Belt of Western Australia and the crops are looking rather sad and could do with a lot of rain. Never fear – the drought-busters have arrived and where we go the rain soon follows!

After York we passed through a number of dead little towns (well it was Sunday afternoon) – Quairading, Corrigin and Kulin – where not even a stray dog broke the lassitude. However the latter part of this journey was somewhat surreal – we were on the Tin Horse Highway. The roadside was embellished with statues of horses made from old oil drums – and dozens of them. I think they were to advertise the Kulin Bush Races which are held in October every year but they are undoubtedly a traffic hazard as I weaved from one side to of the road to the other stopping unexpectedly to take photographs.