Perthect

Perth is a wonderful city, however we didn’t realise that until the following day for two reasons. 1) It was Easter Monday, a public holiday, and the city was therefore empty. Everyone was at the beach, and why not? It was a glorious day and Perth has a plethora of beautiful beaches a short drive or train ride away – I know where I’d have been if I lived here. 2)We had a ten year old Lonely Planet with the worst walking tour I have ever followed. When The Husband and I were wee nippers, young enough to think that staying in hostels and having a mere two change of outfits for three months was fun, we travelled around South America and, wherever we were in a large enough town or city to have one, we did the Lonely Planet (or the Bible, as we grew to fondly call this essential travel companion) walking tour. Other than the fact that I love to play tour guide and read out the directions and the accompanying commentary, we did them because they were a great way to take in the main sites of the city in a short period of time and helped to find one’s bearings in an unfamiliar place. This one, however, seemed to have been designed to take the tourist to the dullest, most out-of-the-way areas of the city. It largely focused on the business centre which is hardly exciting at the best of times but on a public holiday was completely dead. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see tumbleweeds roll down the empty road. We did end up buying the most recent Lonely Planet the day we flew to Karratha and the walking tour in that edition looked to be far more interesting, taking in the best parts of the city – definitely something to do on our next visit.

On that first day we returned to our hotel room slightly downhearted and I hit the gin. A shower and a G&T later, I felt much better and we met up with a few friends also destined for Karratha and walked over to Northbridge for dinner with them. Northbridge is the entertainment hub of Perth, where many of its restaurants, bars and clubs can be found and we dined al fresco, under the stars, and people-watched to our hearts’ content. The meal wasn’t cheap – nothing in Australia seems to be – but the portions were hefty, the food was delicious and the wine went down exceedingly well. After dinner, those of us not suffering from extreme sleep deprivation and jet lag went for a drink at a pub across from our hotel which turned out to be run by a Brit, something not unusual in WA, the state that more Brits than anywhere else in Australia call home. It reminded me of the strange alley in the central shopping district called London Court, where the facade of all the building were mock-Tudor in style and all the shops were prefaced with ‘Ye olde’. Was it built to make the many Brits emigrating here feel at home? As most of us were not born in the Medieval period, I found this most strange.

The following morning, The Husband went off to head office on official work business and I was left to explore the city on my own. This was when I stumbled upon all the parts of central Perth that make it such a lovely city. I discovered the Swan river, which was completely left out of the walking tour but is one of Perth’s gems. I wandered down the path by the river, watching black swans gracefully glide along beside me, and passed the ferry piers taking passengers down to the seaside town of Fremantle and across the river to the zoo. The Bell Tower stood tall and imposing, a relatively recently built copper and glass structure housing the fourteenth century St-Martin’s-in-the-Field’s royal bells, given to WA by the British government in 1988 as part of the national bicentennial celebrations. I crossed the road and meandered through some of the many riverside parks, before doubling back on myself and coming to the beautiful Supreme Court building and the lawns, bushes and trees surrounding it. Perth is full of lush parks, providing a haven for city-dwellers and office workers, but it wasn’t until I met up with The Husband later on that I was to encounter the daddy of them all, King’s Park. This huge park is a short walk from the CBD and lies on a hill, overlooking the city centre, the suburbs, and the river snaking its way down to the coast. It’s a massive four square kilometres and is largely covered in natural bush, criss-crossed with trails for walking or running. We didn’t get that far but did enjoy the outstanding views from the many look-outs, the vast expanses of immaculately mowed, lush green lawn, and the numerous war memorials. We were particularly moved by the trees lining the long avenue near the front of the park, each one planted in remembrance of a fallen soldier.

Contemplating our very short time in Perth whilst supping Hoegaarden in the Belgian Beer Cafe that night, I reflected that I was going to miss this city. Not just because it was a city, any city, which to me right then represented our last night of civilisation, but because Perth had genuinely grown on me. The weather is wonderful, the people friendly, the atmosphere relaxed, and I hadn’t even visited any of its famous beaches. I was looking forward to returning before I had even left. OK, that was partly because I was nervous about living in a small town in the middle of nowhere but I did feel a strange sort of affinity with Perth and I look back on my time there fondly. I found it difficult to sleep that night, probably due to the nervous energy coursing through my body. The next day we were to fly to our new lives in Karratha, 1500km north of Perth. This eternal city girl was about to say goodbye to shopping, meals out and dressing up as she embarked on a year’s odyssey in the bush. Help!