Monday August 4th
I just can’t imagine what it must have felt like 100 years
ago as war was declared. I know from my studies that rampant jingoism flooded
the country, because of the Press Barons telling the public what to think, and
the public [in their ignorance] grabbing the ball and running with it. I like
to believe that I wouldn’t have been so gullible but I know I would have been.
I wouldn’t even have been able to get a degree in 1914; I would have been one
of the millions of oppressed women denied many basic rights and freedoms. I am
certain I would have been a suffragette, though.
100 years on and it seems we are still no further on in the
fundamental things: a small handful of white, millionaire, protestant men still
control what happens on the planet. Yes, there have been moves towards equality
dragged from the hands of the controlling misogynist patriarchy, screaming and
kicking against the change. Equality is still a dream in so many countries
around the world where the men in those places won’t allow because of their
stupid religion or traditions. We need a new World War – against men!
Laura and I, in a spirit of peace and harmony, have been
Buddhists in our attitude today. We have done almost nothing really. A few
small bike rides into the settlement and to Geordie Bay have been all we have
done. Most of the time we have been chilling out; finishing off the wine box
and buying a second one from the shop in Thompson; we also kept wandering
indoors for a kiss and a cuddle!
The fact there is nothing we HAVE to do which has made the
whole thing so enjoyable. Normally we buzz around like blue-arsed flies doing
all sorts of stuff. Yes, I will sit and chill with a book or music {so will
Laura} but usually we are on a mission! Today we have simply slugged out and
deliberately done as little as possible apart from give each other pleasure.
Bliss.
Tuesday August 5th.
OK, Tea break over, back on your heads!
We decided to do one of the walk trails this morning, head
back for lunch to the Settlement and then take one of the tours this afternoon.
A good choice as we got rained on! Not much on the trail walk, we did the
Herschel lakes tour, but a bit on the train tour. Luckily we had gone for the
Oliver Hill Train and Gun tour, so we were inside and uncover a lot of the time
and, to be honest, the rain didn’t amount to much really.
Of the two the Hill & Gun was the most fascinating, from
a historical point of view, while the Lakes walk was pretty and interesting
from a beauty point of view. All the lakes are salt water which is down to
mis-management on the part of the people who settled the island all those years
ago. This is bloody typical of the whole history of Australia where stupidity
and arrogance (and ignorance of nature) have led to some catastrophic
interventions by the Europeans who came here trying to turn a semi-desert
country into a copy of their homeland! Cane toad, rabbits, mice plagues, the salinisation
of water supplies etc have all been the result of misguided meddling and a
belief that Europeans know best.
We decided that taking the flight from Rotto back over to
Perth would be a good idea, so we booked that for tomorrow afternoon. You get
an aerial cruise of the island first, next you get taken across to Perth, fly
up the Swan River to Burswood and back. It should be very interesting indeed.
The train ride was quite unusual, I was expecting something
bigger and grander to be honest but the little rattle box was fun. We set off
from the Settlement Railway Station, which also sounds grand but was tiny. However,
it was well worth the ride for the views from the train journey and Oliver Hill
Battery itself. They were truly impressive out across the Indian Ocean and back
towards the mainland. It is a good thing, on the day after the terrible 100th
anniversary, to know that the guns were never fired in anger. The volunteer
guide was excellent, really enthusiastic and funny too. He obviously cared a
lot about the island and the battery. He was infectious in his love for the
place.
The topography of the land was quite clear to see from the
battery but the guide enthused about the lighthouse tours, saying you got the
absolutely best views from there so we plan on doing that in the morning before
our flight to Perth. They start at 11 am so we are going to arrive dead on
opening time, it is stop number 8 on the island bus. I have told Laura that
this will be the first of several lighthouses we visit while we are out here.
The only two she knows are the one at St Bee’s Head and the one you can see
across the Solway Firth at Southerness Point. I will have to introduce her to
the delights of climbing to the top of the light and the view they afford.
We had an Aristo’s fish and chip meal tonight for our
evening meal and sat down afterwards to show Laura just how truly terrible
Australian Television is. She couldn’t believe the amount of time per hour the
adverts take up! Despite not doing anything much really that was physical we
felt a bit whacked by 10pm so we took a stroll to the Bathurst light as a pre
shower constitutional (it is literally just around the corner from our unit)
and then were zed pushing by eleven.
Wednesday August 6th.
Today dawned as another typically bright Aussie morning. The
sun streamed in through the bedroom windows and outside it was clear and cold.
It must have been only about 5 or 6 degrees at most. We cooked the last of our
breakfast bacon and then wandered down to the Dome where they could have
persuaded me that coffee isn’t that bad after all. OK, I did have to make it
like syrup to become palatable but it is a start. Laura told me that having the
occasional coffee isn’t actually very good for you as the unexpected caffeine
rush can cause health problems. She did wait until I had drunk my mugful before
telling me this!
We went to the quokka information point to see more of the
little cuties, although to be fair we didn’t really need to go there to see
them, we left the front gate of our unit unfastened last night and this morning
there were a couple of the bundles of fluff in our verandah! They scarpered as
soon as we came out to look at them but hardly in a manner that suggested they
were terrified of us, or even concerned!
We caught the tour bus and were knocking at the door,
metaphorically, of Wadjemup Lighthouse waiting for it to open. It is not as
tall as the Leeuwin light and miles taller than the Cape Naturaliste
lighthouse, both of which we will be visiting on our tour of the south west
corner. I said this to the tour guide and he said I was right and wrong. It is
actually smaller than the Cape Naturaliste light but about half the height of
the Leeuwin one. I was surprised by this but the guide assured me that although
the Cape N. one looks smaller because it is squat, it is wider which foreshortens
the height.
All that is academic as the point of visiting them is for
the view from the lighting platform. The view from Wadjemup is definitely
better than from Oliver Hill, after the 155 steps. You do get a full 360 degree
view from the platform, which is hardly surprising as the idea is for the light
to be seen way out at sea. Apparently it can be spotted 28 nautical miles out
(55K approximately). The guide told us the distances to places we could see;
the towers in central Perth, the Hall’s Head Hotel in Mandurah etc plus the
distances to places we couldn’t see. South Africa, for example, is about eight
and a half thousand kilometres away and Casey in Antarctica almost four
thousand kilometres. In 2009 I definitely wouldn’t have been able to swim to S.A.
I kept this thought to myself though. One thing he did explain was the light
signature, which I knew about and also the fact that the light itself doesn’t
flash. If you come and stand underneath it at night there are eight beams of
light radiating out from the top. We decided that was something we would check
on at Bathurst.
We plied on the island bus to get us back to the aerodrome
in time for our flight across to the mainland after the tour finished. I
enjoyed the guide’s commentary and his humorous touches: there is a lift (just
lift one foot after the other); oxygen is provided at every landing – just two
of the jokes he made. I wonder if we’ll hear the same ones at Naturaliste and
Leeuwin?
The flight across to Perth.
This was the biggest expense of the week so far but well
worth every cent. We took off on schedule after the safety talk and checks, I
sat in the rear seat and Laura sat up front with the pilot. We took off very
smoothly and did a slow clockwise circuit of the island. From the air it looks
so tiny and inconsequential. I know it is really small but the aerial view
shows you clearly how small and fragile looking the whole place is. It also
shows how beautiful it is too. The narrow neck did look very narrow and the
boats at anchor in various bay around the island looked like children’s toys.
All the wrecks were clearly visible through the amazingly clean water out here.
(It makes our British coastal waters appear positively filthy by comparison.) I
tried filming the circuit with my phone held up against the window but I am
unimpressed with the results! Plus it made my arm ache!
We headed out across the sound to Fremantle, passing south
of the Swan River outfall and flying roughly over Bicton. I tried,
successfully, to spot where Suze and Pete used to live – quite easy from the
air as their house was built around a oval shaped road system enclosing a large
grassed area (large for a city suburb anyway). I tried to point it out to Laura
but I am not sure if she saw it before we passed over.
The Narrows Bridge, from the air, is so appropriately named.
I know you can tell the land does narrow to a point just here in South Perth
but seeing it for yourself is an illuminating experience. Just above and to the
left of the Narrows, as we flew by, is King’s Park. You can see how vast a
swathe it cuts into the heart of the city. It is about 4Km square and looks
like pristine bush in the middle of an urban sprawl. I use the words urban
sprawl quite deliberately; from up here you can see just how vast the place has
become over the years. It really has spread out in every possible direction – I
suppose this is because of the Aussie habit of building low rise dwellings
rather than going for high density. This is why it seems to take ages to get
from Warnbro in to the centre of Perth, it actually is “miles away”.
We were low enough to see the Campanile on the Barack Street
jetty and then flew to the WACA. No cricket on today. Past this, we banked to
our left and swept back along the skyscrapers on Hay Street. They don’t look as
impressive as they did when I was a child, as I had hardly seen any tall
buildings then. From the air they don’t look imposing either. We flew back over
the Subiaco Oval, where we’ll be going to a Dockers match before we fly back to
the UK. There were some small figures on the pitch but the pilot had no idea
who they could have been. We then cruised down past Fremantle again, over Pier
21, where the yacht is moored, and out over the Indian Ocean once more.
Like I mentioned, it was the most expensive excursion so far
and it took little over 40 minutes from take-off to landing but I think it has
given Laura a much better over view of what the place is like, even if from the
air it all just looks like one giant patchwork. She needs to get down and dirty
among it to see why I love coming here, I guess. It was so worth doing. I
thoroughly enjoyed it and so did Laura. It got me thinking, we ought to see if
anyone does flights over the Lake District when we get back. That could prove
wonderful too.
We headed to the Dome for a hot drink and a sandwich and
using their free wi-fi we made contact with the mother country! I talked to Mum
(busy planning a weekend up in Hawick) and Dad (still on Arran). He turned the
camera round to show me Callie fast asleep in a heap of dogs waiting to go for
a walk on the island. Laura was lucky to find her Mum and Dad both at home and
she chatted to them for quite a while too. She tried to show them a panorama of
Thompson Bay and the settlement from her tablet but I am not sure how good a
picture they got back in Cumbria. She did a slow sweep from side to side twice
and then pointed out where our unit was and tried to describe its location.
They made encouraging sorts of noises, which was probably all they could do to
be honest.
We pootled to the store and bought ourselves the ingredients
for tonight’s meal and then headed back to the unit where we indulged our
passions again for a while. After a snooze we cooked up the meal and watched
the sun set in the ocean. [Prawn, pea and spring onion risotto, in case you are
wondering.]
Once it was dark we went to Bathurst light to see if what
the guide had said was true about the light beams. It didn’t work here as quite
a lot of the windows on the viewing platform are blanked off so it doesn’t
shine over the island; so, like a pair if loonies, we cycled our way to
Wadjemup to see it there instead. The guide was right, the beams do radiate out
like the spokes of a wheel, especially if you lie flat on your back looking
upwards. What a silly thing to do, eh?
Thursday 7th August
Our last full day on Rotto and already we are getting
nostalgic about the place. It seems to have cast its spell on us both, in the
same way that Arran did when we went there for our first holiday together last
spring. Maybe our love draws us towards islands? Is that an unconscious
literary illusion to Sappho herself?
We decided on another tour of the island, via bicycle but
attempting to see the places we had omitted when touring round with the kids on
Sunday. I am afraid we once again succumbed to the temptation of the pre-made
sandwiches available at Sunway as our repast, perhaps in an unintended
connection to Sunday there too.
Being alone and amorous we actually found ourselves a
delightfully secluded spot among the dunes down near the pointy end of the
island to lay our picnic rug and our desires out in the open. I know we have
made love in the open air before but this time seemed more poignant and more
special for some reason. We decided to get dressed again before eating our meal
and then we both lay together and fell fast asleep. We were so glad that we did
as a trio of lady hikers disturbed our post coital and prandial slumbers as
they fought their way through the dunes. They were as surprised as we to
encounter each other and we persuaded them to stop and chat for a while. They
were searching for a spot to eat their lunch, rather later than anticipated as
they hadn’t taken account of the distance to Cape Vlamingh from the settlement.
We were able to offer them some of our drink – we had
brought two two litre bottles of squash with us in our bike baskets. They seemed
mightily relieved at this offer as they had drunk their own water some time
back and had made the startling discovery that the water from the taps around
the west of the island was no-potable! There is nothing like planning ahead.
Their accents placed them as Australian but it seems they
were New Zealanders (a mistake commonly made by those with no experience of the
islands, I was informed). They were staying at Rottnest Hotel and had embarked
on their fool-hardy ramble with determination but scant planning. The oldest
must have been about Mum’s age or thereabouts and the other two slightly
younger. They were colleagues taking a break together from their work as
librarians in Wellington. The Mum’s age one was a widow and the other two had
abandoned their husbands for a fortnight away in Oz.
After about twenty minutes we had each other’s life
histories spelled out (with the exception of Laura and I being lovers – you
have to be careful at times when being frank with people in case of a hostile
reaction). They were impressed that my Dad was Australian and my Mum Scottish
as it meant my genes would be sound! They were also amused by my ability to
talk in each of their accents with faultless accuracy. In fact, they said, if I
had spoken using my Strine accent when we first encountered each other they
wouldn’t have guessed I wasn’t a native.
Replenished and refreshed they pressed on to Cape Vlamingh
and the welcome news that you could just hop on the island bus at any stop. (I
was amazed they hadn’t included that in their plans for the walk.) We agreed
that a meeting in the hotel bar later that evening would be a welcome event.
We meandered back to our unit and arrived there just in time
to avoid a drenching in a sudden downpour. We drenched ourselves in our own
shower and spruced up for an evening of convivial social interaction in the
Rottnest Hotel. We decided, after consulting the, rather limited, Hotel
restaurant’s menu, that Aristos would be the place for our meal and then we’d
wander round to the hotel as the mood took us. As it was our last night we went
to town a little with our outfits, make up and jewellery. I had on my only
clean dress – the clingy rainbow jersey one for which I need a t-shirt bra and
my Debenham’s “invisible” knickers or you can see all the seams of my underwear
though it. Talk about vpl, it’s ‘visible everything underneath line’ with this
dress! Laura somehow had managed to have two unworn outfits to choose from and
went for the red tulip dress.
We must have looked as though we were on the pull as we
strolled through the settlement and had our dinner, dressed in glad rags and
made up to the nines. The women were in the hotel bar at about 8 pm as
arranged, looking none the worse for their experience and rather less glamorous
than either Laura or myself. [Pardon me while I sharpen my claws!]
We chatted and joked and bitched; swapped stories and dreams
and ambitions; we had a really good evening, helped along by my recommendation
of the Sandalford Wines from the wine list. We had three bottles of verdhelo
and two of rose! That is a bottle each! In the end we staggered back to the
unit and finished of the remains of our wine box too. That was a bit
disappointing, taste wise, but it needed to be done. The ladies are going back
across on the Rotto Express sometime tomorrow. We are too, as Pete and Suze
have got plans for this weekend after all; so no more boats across the sound
and four to a bed for the weekend.
I think we may need a good rest to recover from our week on
the island. Plus, unless my counting is wrong I should be due a visit on Saturday
or Sunday which may have been awkward on a cramped boat. Laura and I are almost
synchronous now so she’ll get a visit too in the coming week I would think. On
that rather indelicate note I shall stop now.
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