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.

Caves, Pinnacles, an Old Bus and a New Baby

Dongara (or to more precise, Port Dennison) proved to be yet another pleasant seaside town, very much geared to tourism, where we stayed for two nights at a campsite by the beach. Whilst pleasant enough the town was not exactly exciting although one piece of equipment outside the Old Courthouse did set the blood racing and I am considering installing a similar corrective device to keep Sandra under control when we get home! On Saturday we set off from Dongara for Perth via the Stockyards National Park and the Pinnacles National Park.

Stockyards is a gully on one of the old droving trails where the cattle could be safely gathered for the night. The highlight was a tunnel which the river, dry when we were there, had carved through the rocks leaving a several hundred metre long tunnel similar to Tunnel Creek in the Kimberley. Unlike Tunnel Creek, we were the only people there at the time which, along with the total blackness, increased the spookiness factor. The fear factor was also raised as our ears were assaulted by a loud buzzing noise caused by feral bees whose hives could not be avoided on the approach to the cave – it was raised even further when we came across a sign warning of bee attacks. However we managed to get through the tunnel with no mishaps other than raised adrenalin – then on to The Pinnacles.

Australia has some amazing geological features not least of which are the Desert Pinnacles a couple of hours drive north of Perth. Along the shore the dune system has been stabilised by a variety of plants, however miles inland fire and wind have exposed the sand which has been blown away to expose the Pinnacles – thousands of them! Ranging in height from a few feet to several metres, these strange structures are spread out over the landscape like a disorganised Terracotta Army - with the reasons for their existence still not fully understood by geologists.

We have been fortunate throughout most of our trip to have come across people who have opened their doors to us and made us welcome - the latest of these being John and Marie. Marie is an old friend of Maureen Sturrock back in Scotland. John and Marie live in Darlington in Perth Hills about 25k from the city centre. It made a pleasant change to sleep in a proper bed, under a ceiling that didn’t flap in the wind and to have breakfast on a sunny deck overlooking the trees in their garden.

Long-time followers of this blog will recall the amazing number of coincidences reported and how these have tailed off over the last few months – well they’re back! Marie, who although English, redeems herself firstly by having lived in Orkney for 15 years at the same time that Sandra and I lived just over the Pentland Firth in Caithness, and secondly by being a friend of a good friend of ours in Orkney – the infamous Billy Dass. Mind you, as Marie said, how could anyone live in Orkney for 15 years and not know Billy!

Marie came to Australia in 1986 after a three-year overland journey in a converted 1956 bus – the story of that trip’s hair-raising experiences in Iran, India, Pakistan etc, told to us whilst drinking flagons of red wine into the wee small hours, would fill a book. The bus, named Mathilde, having lain in a state of increasing dereliction for many years, is now being totally renovated to an extremely high standard by John and Marie with the intention of Mathilde completing her circumnavigation of the world returning to Britain via the Americas. And people think Sandra and I are brave (mad?) for undertaking our trip – I take my hat of to, and are very envious of, John and Marie.

One of the reasons for being in Perth was to fly back to Sydney on 7th September in time for us to be there for the birth of Steven and Ana’s baby – our first grand-daughter – expected on the 11th. Sunday 5th was Marie’s birthday and the four of us were out for a birthday walk when my phone rang, it was Steven who announced the baby had put in an early appearance and had been born at 2am – six days before time. John and Marie had kindly offered to look after our vehicle for a few weeks whilst we were in Sydney and gave us a lift to the airport.

In Sydney we were met by Steven and whisked off to his house to see the new, as yet un-named, addition to the Douglas Clan. Sandra immediately ensconced herself with Ana to discuss babies, breast-feeding techniques, nappies and other alien topics whilst I twiddled my thumbs, had “shotties” of the baby when it wasn’t crying and gave it back when it started crying – I don’t know how I was ever a father! The baby is apparently in good fettle and even Steven, who before the birth had not exactly been full of obvious fatherly emotions, was heard to mutter proudly “She’s beautiful”

We are staying in Stretch and Johann’s house whilst in Sydney for the next couple of weeks and will no doubt be posting many more baby stories and photographs - watch this space.