Finding culture in WA. No I don't mean yogurt! Unusual Christening.

Friday August 8^th.

Wowee. Western Australia does do culture after all. No, I don’t mean it makes its own yogurt. I have found that The Fille Mal Gardee is having a season at His Majesty’s Theatre, so after a swift couple of phone calls to the mainland to see if any of the family wanted to go with Laura and me to see it, I have booked four tickets for the evening of Thursday 11^th of September. I know it’s a school night for the girls but I figured it would be better than a weekend booking which may be busier. I tried to persuade Jeff that he would love it but he is not going to go and see Ballet! Full Stop. End of. He is obviously turning into a testosterone fuelled, sexist stereotypical Australian male. I will have to beat his ears when I next see him. (This evening.)

The second call was to the box office to book tickets. Rah rah rah! We saw this at the Lyceum in Sheffield about a month ago and it was truly wonderful, I can’t wait to see how the West Australian Ballet company interpret the story and score.

Even better than that I have booked tickets for Laura and me (and the girls again) to go and hear Beethoven’s symphonies number 6 and 7 performed at the Perth Concert Hall on Friday 29^th of August and a pair of tickets for me and Laura by ourselves for Carmina Burana on Saturday 13^th September at the same venue. I didn’t ask the girls about this one as I thought it may be a bit heavier going than the best two Beethoven symphonies. It does mean we are going to make sure our touring plans fit in with the dates but that is no problem. We fly back to the UK on the Monday after the Orff so we’ll be leaving with culture behind our ears. That may be stray yogurt!

I conducted all this business at the Dome whilst waiting for our ferry back to the mainland and what passes for civilisation in these parts. The three librarians saw us in the café and came and joined us. I told them what I had just done and they seemed surprised, not having taken us for culture vultures by our dress and demeanour. Laura took great pleasure in telling them we were patrons of the Sheffield City Hall International Classic Concert season, starting in September when we got back, and that we had already got three theatre visits booked as well on our return. You could hear the pride and swagger in her voice as she told them this. We hadn’t really gone on too much about our social activities last night, preferring to be silly rather than serious.

I don’t know if she did it to shock them or get a reaction or to merely make a statement but she then told them we were shortly about to celebrate our two year anniversary as a couple and we’d lived together for the last one. If this was designed to ruffle their feathers, it didn’t work. The oldest of the trio said something like, “I knew it. Didn’t I say they were awfully close for just friends?” The other two just nodded. It turned out they were very supportive of any kind of alternative arrangements, as they put it. It so obviously worked in our case.

We sat with them on the Rottnest Express and then told them about Freo Market, in case they hadn’t been to it yet. They had. They had ‘done’ Fremantle before they went over to Rotto. They were going to ‘do’ Darwin next.

I guided us down to fisherman’s wharf where I treated the Lollster to the best fish and chips in the world at Cicerello’s. We ate outdoors, right on the wharf side and watched with envy the array of boats moving about or moored in the harbour. After our early lunch we strolled across to look at the market again; did a little shopping and then caught the 99 bus to Murdoch Station. From there we hopped on to the Transperth train to Warnbro Station, on Ennis Avenue, finally a taxi delivered us right to our door in less than four minutes! Suze was home when we arrived being on the first part of the three day turnaround between shifts which she negotiated last year.

We flopped onto the sofas in the family room and guzzled tea like we were dehydrated camels!

The kids arrived home with Pete at about 4.15 and after a brief chat with us about our stay on Rotto they disappeared into their rooms until they were called for the meal about 6.30.

We chilled out afterwards gossiping and being silly until an exposition of sleep came upon us and we headed for the hills. You can’t actually do that in a bungalow so we did it metaphorically instead. We needed our beauty sleep for our early start at Aqua Jetty tomorrow morning.

Saturday 9^th August.

We didn’t over sleep at all despite being out like lights last night. I didn’t even wake up when Suze came in at about 6.30 with two mugs of tea for us. Laura nudged my shoulder several times to rouse me and I responded with a muttered, “Callie! Stop it!” This caused a little indignation on the part of my listener who promptly whacked me with her pillow, so I whacked her with mine and we indulged in a little childishness before collapsing in a deep and prolonged kiss; lying the wrong way round on the bed. A slight cough from the door brought us to our senses and we were startled to see a small niece watching us snogging. [Oh bollox!]

Annabelle walked in and plonked herself down on the end of the bed and said, “I knew you kissed. Jeff said you didn’t but I just knew you must do. It’s what people who are in love do. I suppose, unless you kissed someone with a beard, with your eyes closed you wouldn’t be able to tell if you were kissing a boy or a girl would you?”

I told her I wasn’t going to answer any questions like that and what was she doing sneaking into our room like that? She protested that she hadn’t sneaked, she’d coughed politely and anyway the door was open which means you can come in. [She was right, that is a family rule. Not just here but all through the family. It is one of Mum & Dad’s that we all still seem to follow.

She told us she had come to fetch us as it was 10 to 7 and (her) Mum had told her to get us to shift our arses. I assured her she didn’t say anything of the sort but she assured me the only words she’d missed out of her Mum’s command were “bloody skinny”.

Several lengths of the pool later and our arses were heading towards being even skinnier. We lazed about in the Jacuzzi area and sauna and steam rooms bit for quite a lot longer than on a week day as there was no rush to get the cherubs off to school. When we got back Pete told us he just had to make a phone call to cancel the search party!

The function that Suze and Pete are going to is a Christening of Bruce and Tania’s first child. It is on Sunday afternoon. I was quite surprised by this, even more so when Suze said that we had been invited too, if we wanted to go. I have only ever met Bruce and Tania once so I said I wasn’t sure. I told her if we went there was no way I was going to take communion. She just laughed at this. It turns out that B & T and their family aren’t Catholic and it will be a naming ceremony rather than an old fashioned Christening. It will be held at Bruce and Tania’s house plus there will be a huge barbi in B & T’s back yard after the event. They are having a celebrant officiate at the naming ceremony called Stanton (I think). This seems such a weird variation on anything I have known (and Laura too) we said we’d go.

After brekkers Laura and I decided to cycle round the scenic route onto Rockingham Beach and buy a newspaper. This prompted Annabelle to ask if she could come too, and Suze also fancied the idea. Jill was off to meet some of her friends from school in Rocky Park Mall and then maybe head into Freo and Jeff had an AFL match this afternoon – Pete was taking him.

So after much messing about finding helmets and pumping up soft tyres we wobbled our way along Currie Street, down Gamble Street onto Fendam Street, climbing up Blakey Street and finally on to Warnbro Beach Road. That last little climb is always a bit of a surprise but worth it for the view across the bay to Penguin Island and the other outcrops in the distance. Warnbro Beach Road isn’t exactly pancake like either but you don’t really notice, especially if you are just pottering along at barely more than fast walking pace. A week of cycling on Rotto had obviously inured my delicate little places to the rigours of a saddle and I found the experience quite fun.

By the time we reached Safety Bay Road you could hear cries of. “Whose bloody stupid idea was this, anyway?” This was answered by a plaintive wail of, “You didn’t have to come, Mum!” Safety Bay Road was a hell of a lot busier than WBR and we were glad of the pavement to cycle down when it finally appeared alongside us. We decided that the café at the Penguin Island ferry point needed our patronage so we stopped there for a drink and a bun. Laura, once again, was stunned by the beauty of the coast here, especially the way the chain of little limestone islands break up the eye line as you look out into the Indian Ocean.

Suitably refreshed, we pedalled on until we finally arrived at Railway Terrace. Here we had a look around the scattering of shops and bought our newspaper as planned. We even had a go on the Aus Lotto, inspired by my Mum’s win of $5,000 last year when she came out to join me on a post retirement holiday. We won’t hold our breath about winning anything. Although I did promise if I won big I would relocate here (to Shoalwater) when my PhD was complete. This got an unsolicited reply from Laura who said, “Yes, I could quite easily live here too. It is like West Cumbria but with better weather.”

Suze being a wuss was all for cycling back to Chaos Castle the quick way, straight down Read Street which becomes Warnbro Sound Avenue at the big roundabout but she was out voted by the three of us who preferred to avoid the heavy traffic that would be flowing down there. We went back the same way we had come and found the going equally as easy. Our whole jaunt had taken us about four hours and our bums, buttocks and thighs certainly reminded us! Suze was of the opinion that if I suggested another bike ride she would definitely not join us.

We hung around like ghosts waiting for a haunting for the rest of the day as we looked forward to the televised game between the Dockers and Geelong. Dinner was a joint affair with Suze and Laura cooking the main and Annabelle and I doing the dessert [baked Alaska].

The game between the Dockers and the Cats was a really tight one which Fremantle lost after staging a really heroic comeback in the final quarter. It was made even more disappointing because the Dockers had a shot, right on the final siren, which (if it had gone through the centre sticks) would have won the game by four points. Instead the kick went completely wide and they lost by two! Boo Hoo. This means that Geelong will almost certainly finish fourth in the ladder above Freo.

I was pleased that Laura found the game fascinating, even though she didn’t really have a clue what was going on. She is now looking forward to our visit to Subiaco to see a match live. We are going next Sunday to the Paterson’s Stadium to watch The Dockers take on Hawthorn. It is a mid-afternoon game and we are planning on going in Pete’s bus to Freo and then catching the train up to Subiaco. (We have done this before.) I brought my Dockers shirt with me, especially for the occasion, and we are going to get a piece of apparel for Laura to wear before next weekend too.

It is strange not walking a dog the last thing at night before going to bed. It is also strange to not be having sex with Laura as soon as we get into it. I guess we have to show a little decorum. What we also need is some kind of toys we can use on each other. Fearing serious embarrassment at the airport I decided not to pack any of our aids to pleasure. I think a task for next week is to locate a shop where we can buy something to help us out. Is there an Ann Summers in Western Australia?

Sunday 10^th August.

Sunday swimmers in the pool again this morning. Why do the geriatrics of Warnbro have to descend on the place on Sunday when they eschew it all week long? It was quite an unusual occurrence though as all of us went to the pool and then had a big fry up breakfast when we got back home.

We have washed all of our clothes through, which didn’t take as long as anticipated, and I showed Laura how to use the whirly gig in the back garden. Annabelle came to help and was rather startled by our underwear. Especially some of the thongs we had washed. She pulled a face and said she had tried a pair of those and they kept disappearing up her bum! We had a good giggle and explained that is how they fitted. It feels pretty strange at first but you soon get used to it. Plus it means they take up less than no space in your luggage. She was also surprised that I had so many bras to be washed. I asked her if she didn’t put a clean on every day with her knickers, she said that she didn’t. She often didn’t wear one at the weekend at all as she had virtually nothing to put in it one anyway.

I told her she should be grateful. I was keen to have a bust when I was thirteen and look at the bloody grapefruits I had down my T-shirt now! I wished I was more of Laura’s proportions. This comment made the object of my desire pipe up to say that she wished she was more like me. I jokingly said we ought to swap. Annabelle said she’d readily swap then the boys at school would swoon when they saw her. I told her boys swoon at any part of a girl’s body they see all the time. She said, “What, even Jeff?”

“Oh yeah. I bet Jeff swoons at big bazookas every time he sees them.”

That had us in stitches. Annabelle had this crazy idea about her brother fainting every time he saw a large bosom. They would need to set up a post bosom viewing revival team for him to make sure he could get through the day safely. Jill interrupted our silliness by asking what we were laughing at out here and Annabelle tried to explain but it didn’t sound so funny the second time around.

We had a small brunch type affair as there was going to be a barbi at the naming ceremony but no one was sure how long we would be before the food was broken out. A little nibble now would keep off the hunger pangs, according to my sister. I had to supress another giggle, not helped by being nudged in the ribs by Laura who whispered, “A little nibble right now would be perfect.”

We left for Mandurah at about 1pm in Pete’s bus after having got ourselves all dolled up for the occasion. I had my back multi-purpose dress, which is a sort of long mini made from a stretchy sort of material that feels like velvet but obviously isn’t. It is multi-purpose as depending on how you accessorize it can be very formal or very casual. I went for casually formal with my black Roman Legionary sandals, black hand bag and shortie demin jacket on top. Laura chose her floor length rainbow summer dress which has and empire line top with a halter neck. I have one which is almost identical except for the length, which is skater skirt length. I didn’t bring it with me as we look like bloody Tweedledum and Tweedledee if we go out in indentical outfits. We actually did a check through our packing to make sure we didn’t put anything in which was too similar, except for a couple of jersey dresses each which are the same cut but different colours.

Jill wanted to do our eyes for us and we had a set of graduated sunrises (I think that was what she called them) each. That was actually all four of us because she did her own and Annabelle’s too. She did try to get Suze to make a full set but she said she hadn’t got the time to sit down and have all that done.

Bruce and Tania live in really nice two storey place just north of Mandurah. Luckily there is a reserve right next to it and we were able to fit Pete’s bus along the edge of that, next to the wooden fencing. There were already another dozen or so vehicles doing the same thing. Inside the ‘yard’ there must have been about fifty or sixty people there altogether, obviously mainly their relatives but friends of each of them too. We were there as Tania’s friends. They used to live in Safety Bay until last year but moved down to Mandurah when Bruce changed partners and practices. They now have three surgeries, one in Rockingham, one in Mandurah and one out at Armadale.

Annabelle clutched my arm really tightly as we were introduced to Bruce and Tania (again) and muttered, “There’s Robin…” Robin is their oldest and he used to be Annabelle’s boyfriend, sort of. The new baby is the third child and we all got to have a look at her and those who wanted hold her. In fact she was rather like a pass the parcel item among everyone who came in. She was a very happy and cheery little thing who didn’t seem to mind being passed between strangers. I gave her a swift bounce in my arm while she clutched my finger really tightly. Laura was a bit more tentative about holding her which was surprising having several nephews and nieces of her own she must have held before, not to mention my newest niece Sophie.

I mentioned Sophie to Suze and she was scathing about my brother. Not really surprising as they don’t get on very well at all. She was of the opinion he had only had a third so he could keep up with her. [Now, if you know my brother, that is so realistic a character assessment of him. He just has to compete. He doesn’t with me because I don’t do things in the normal way so he isn’t sure of the ground between us really. If I had been able to marry Richard and start the family we had planned, then he would have been as competitive with me too, I guess. Richard’s death and my complete change of lifestyle had bowled him a doosra which he just couldn’t defend against.] I had to tell Suze that she mustn’t tar Sophie with the same brush as our pillock of a brother.  I remembered I had some photo’s of Sophie on my phone so we had a brief look at a second baby, albeit on a 4” screen taken thousands of miles away.

The celebrant was a woman. She and the smiling parents had written the naming ceremony between them and had studiously avoided all mention of any kind of deity in it altogether. I could quite like this idea. It had the wetting of the baby’s head and we lit candles from a single one, passing the flame between the guests, just like it would have been in a church. We simply had none of the wishy washy fairy tale stuff included. I think it was very tastefully done and all the people attending seemed to approve. One old duffer mumbled something about it not being proper if it wasn’t in a church but he garnered no support for this view from anyone around him at all. Good.

The whole ceremony took about 35 minutes I guess and then we all sort of migrated towards where the food and drink was being served up. B &T must have had caterers in as the food was hot and waiting for us as we arrived and we had a choice of several items including steak for those who wanted it. I opted for steak but I asked the girl cooking if I could have a fresh one put on the grill as all the others were too over cooked for me. She said something like “At last…” but I didn’t take it any further. I had a really raw piece of beef and then piled my plate with salad and baby new potatoes. We sat scoffing on a series of picnic benches arranged around the garden – a pretty huge garden I might add. The rest of the family had chicken strips or prawns or kebabs or chops or even a burger or snag; I seemed to be the only steak eater among us. We were told there was plenty still to eat so we (OK, I) felt honour bound to help them out.

The second time round they were cooking tuna steaks so I had one of those and two snags which were said to contain sage. They were certainly very herby though I couldn’t tell if it was sage or not. While we were eating Tania & Bruce came around with  baby Rosie and introduced us to her formally. We snapped a couple of pictures on our phones and Suze said we ought to send one to Phil and claim it her fourth one! This led Tania to ask about our brother and me showing her the pictures of baby Sophie from my phone. I showed her all the pictures I had taken of my brother and his family and Tania seemed surprised that Suze didn’t mention him more. I had to explain that he was an accountant and consequently too boring to be of interest. To which Bruce replied, “Monty Python”. My beloved sister said, “Oh No!” but it was too late. With a fellow Pythoner I just had to show my enthusiasm too. He remembered the University of Wallamaloo [being a Bruce] and I was able to sing him (quietly) a word perfect version of the Philosopher’s Song . He came back with a pretty good remembrance of the banker’s song and we attempted a duet on Eric the Bee.

Suze did the eye roll into the top of her head and Tania said, “If you went to see them at the O2 I’ll kill you!” I explained I hadn’t… …but I had seen the TV broadcast. This set us off on another line of discussing the possibility of seeing it out here in Aus. I couldn’t answer that one. 

After the scoff was out of the way, and the baby greeting done and dusted we all began to mingle with the other guests. Well, I dragged Laura around and we chattered to all and sundry. When they heard our accents that usually got us started on why we were here, how did we know Bruce and Tania, what did we think of Australia [You ALWAYS get asked that]. We went through the swift family history and I did my genuine strine voice for a few people, who were amazed that I sounded just like an Australian. All the time Laura cleaved to me like I was a life line. She did volunteer information when asked but it was big gobbed, ice-breaker who sailed forth into unknown waters. I like being sociable and people are really ready to talk to newcomers at a function like this.

We met all sorts of interesting people and their children. We gossiped with both of Bruce’s partners. His and Tania’s parents; a few of Tania’s colleagues; B & T’s two other children and sundry uncles aunts nieces and nephews, as well as friends and freeloaders (like us). It was great fun.

People started to drift away at about 5 pm and we said our farewells just as the sun was sinking into the Indian Ocean. Pete as the designated driver was as sober as a judge but I think the other htree adults in the party, not to mention the oldest daughter of the driver were a little the worse for alcohol. Annabelle was quite subdued and Jeff was in a stress about a stain he had managed to spill down his Dockers training top. Suze told him to stop his wittling and she’d put it in the wash when we got home. If he couldn’t shut up he’d have to do it himself. He has sense at times and was quiet for the rest of the drive home.

Back at Chaos Castle the kids did their disappearing act again and Pete decided it was his turn to hit the chardonnay. We sat in the front lounge and watched the televised AFL game while consuming even more alcohol. Jeff joined us for the match and then vanished again. Annabelle put in an appearance time to coincide with Jeff’s departure and showed us a card she had made for Tania and Bruce to thank them for a lovely day. It was really sweet. Suze said she’d take it to work tomorrow. Annabelle snugged down between Laura and me and watched the next two TV shows with us although by the middle of the second one she was fast asleep. We decided to hit the charp too, so I picked up Annabelle and carried her into her room. She put her arms round my neck As I took her down the corridor to her room. She kissed me on the check and said, “I do love having you and Laura here. If you could come and live in Shoalwater it would be brilliant.”

If I could come and live in Shoalwater it would be brilliant but I know I would miss the mountains and greenery too much to be truly happy. I need wealth enough to live here six months and in the UK six months. Now that would be brilliant.

Rottnest Remembrance; an idyllic week on this lovely island.

Monday August 4^th

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 5^th.

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 100^th 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 6^th.

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 7^th 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.

Diving on Rotto wrecks. Discussing lesbianism with my sister.

Friday August 1^st.

We went to Aqua Jetty again with the kids (even Jeff came this time) and then back home for our breakfast and planning the day. Pete, Laura and I drove the kids to school. A bit of a squash but we managed. We drove on up to Freo to get the yacht sorted for this arvo.

Suze finishes early shift before the kids finish school so she’ll get their stuff and then pick them up from school to join us in Fremantle.

In Freo we drove straight to the marina and did a thorough clean of everything that needed cleaning and some stuff that didn’t. Pete sailed us out using the donk to get some diesel and we topped up the freshwater tanks too. We asked him to chuck us out at the E-Shed market, so he did. Fortunately not literally.

I used the rest of the morning to look around E-Shed, then we went into town and I showed her Myers (didn’t go in but I have planned a rendezvous with Heidi later in the hols). We looked at the shops in town and then I went to my favourite spot of all Fremantle Market. It is in an olde worlde building (OK, it’s only Victorian) and is full of bustle and life. When Suze and Pete lived in Bicton I used to spend a lot of time in Freo centre during my Gap year frequenting the market every day of the weekend. [OK, I was dating a local guy who worked there though; Mino (Carmine). I dumped him when I came back to the UK to take up my University place.]

Laura was as enchanted as I was when I first saw the market as a child. It is bustling and busy and full of nooks and crannies where stalls have been squeezed in. The Victorian bit is quite small but through a wide passageway you end up in the fruit and veg section which is quite a lot bigger. We were actually on a mission to get fruit and veg so we set about it with gusto. There used to be a lot of Italian stall holders (hence me dating Carmine) but they seemed to be in a minority now. We stocked up with a mountain of fruit and salad for the weekend. My family can get through grub like locusts.

I took Laura to the best food court on the planet, next door to Freo market and she was totally impressed. It knocks Meadowhall’s pathetic attempt into a cocked hat. There are no franchise names in this building just small, independent food producers cooking up their national cuisine. You are spoiled for choice, unless you are one of those people who won’t touch any food that isn’t from their own culture. [Yes, that is a big dig at Brits abroad!] I had an amazing selection of Thai dishes and Loll surprising me by having a tray filled with food from the Vietnamese stall. We did trade mouthfuls of each dish and I think we chose wisely.

We had to get back to the marina on the other side of the Swan so we headed back, again via E-Shed. I wanted us to get a new pair of Uggs each. I told Laura we would buy a new pair out here to use here and take home rather than bring ours from the UK all the way back to Aus, which seemed a bit silly. The Rousabout stall was still there (we had recced it on our way into town) and Laura bought a pair of pale pink ones and I bought a deep lavender coloured pair. They will be useful on the boat and on Rotto.

It seems a long way to Pier 21 marina over the Queen Victoria Street bridge, much longer than I had anticipated to be honest. It is called the Freo Traffic Bridge but there is a pedestrian section to the east side which looks up the Swan River. Laura was just amazed by how beautiful it all looks, I guess over the years of my visits and then living here twice you just get used to it. The Swan is line with houses, marinas, parks, beaches and play areas. It is a true aquatic playground. It is now wonder that Suze and Pete bought a small boat as soon as they arrived here in 2001. When they lived in Bicton their first boat was moored at the East Fremantle Yacht Club. It sounds very posh but is just an ordinary marina and club house. (It used to do great food, though.) Pier 21 is much closer to the Indian Ocean than EFYC which was why they moved.

Their first boat was an aluminium 18 footer with a single outboard motor. Instead of parking in on the trailer at their house they decided to get their foot in the marina door, so to speak, by getting themselves a birth at EFYC. Over the years they traded up boats in the same way that people trade up houses. Despite the fact their current vessel cost nearly $2 million; they sold their previous boat (a cabin cruiser) for over one and a half million dollars in order to buy it. Gran’s legacy helped too.

If you drive down the road to the Marina you’d have no idea it was there. It is a good job Pete drove us to it because I had forgotten where the entrance was. On the way back we could take the riverside walk instead. Laura has fallen in love with Fremantle.

Suze arrived with the kids at about 4pm and we set of for Rottnest Island straight away. It took about an hour and a half across the 11 nautical miles as the wind was a bit variable in both strength and direction! Coming back is usually much quicker and you can often put out a full set of canvas and sleigh ride back to Freo. We’ll miss that as we are going to be staying over when the family have gone back for school and work.

We used the SMS system to snag a mooring in Thompson bay as the wind wasn’t too favourable to go right round to Stark. They are pretty empty at this time of year anyway but the shared mooring system is a great idea for out of season visitors. I piloted the tender onto the jetty as we all wanted to have a bite at the brilliant seafood restaurant for our evening meal. It brought back so many memories of two Christmases ago when I went up to Broome with the rellies and we ate fresh fish and sea food almost everyday.

Annabelle and I shared the seafood platter for two on the understanding that she ate the calamari (I don’t like the texture!). Laura tried the dhufish, Jeff and Pete had the Island platter for two and Suze and Jill both had the chili mussels but they ended up being beaten by the amount and so we shared the rest round between us. Once she had her first few mouthfuls of dhufish she realised why eulogise about it so much back in the UK. It is brilliant. In fact the whole restaurant is brilliant – it’s a glass structure perched right on the shore line with views across the sound back to the mainland. You stroll down the boardwalk to it with the sea washing gently at your left hand side. Being all glass it looks a bit like a fairy palace when you see it lit up, at first.

We stayed for a good couple of hours and then strolled through the settlement to the Quokka observation point for a read about those, for Laura’s benefit. Back through the hamlet which is Thompson Bay we looked at the closed shops and the island shop, which we’ll visit tomorrow, then we headed back out to the yacht with Jill at the helm this time.

It seemed easier to get us girls to bunk together in the largest bed room which meant poor old Jeff had to bivvy down in the tiny berth again. He is used to it I suppose. Cahnging and washing was a bit of a palaver but we manged to get all seven of us through the heads although showers were banned as seven of us could have drained the tank in an instant. I told Laura we’d be swimming tomorrow and then do what the Okkers do, wash down at a public shower after swimming. This is a bit restricted on Rotto too, though, as the water is in quite short supply. [During the summer months, anyway.]

I went to sleep with Laura on my left, on the outside of the four of us and Annabelle on my left. I woke up at about three pm with the strange sensation of being held down to find that my niece was clutching my right hand and Laura was holding my left! Laura was just lying on her back and holding it as though we might do when out walking but Annabelle had my arm bent at the elbow, she was lying on her side and my hand was clasped against her chest. I found it really touching and slightly worrying. Although when we went on our camper van expedition last winter (our summer) I used to wake up regularly to find myself being hugged by my niece as though I was her teddy bear!

Saturday August 2^nd.

After breakfast we sailed round to the south of the island to go snorkelling and diving in Porpoise Bay near some of the wrecks that litter the coast. The water is crystal clear and being semi tropical has its own reef and an abundance of fish, lots of which are really brightly coloured and exotic looking. Laura and I went snorkelling first and had a look at the wreck of The Shark which is easily reached with a snorkel. She was amazed that everything was so clear and so simple to get to. Jeff drove us across in the tender and then he showed us around the wreck himself. At high water it lies in four metres but at low it is within the scope of even an inexperienced snorkeller. With Jeff and I to guide her she was fine and thoroughly taken aback by actually diving on a real ship-wreck. Once she’d got her ‘sea sense’ with the snorkel we headed back to the yacht where we graduated to air and dived with the rest.

All of the family now have ‘sport diver’, I am still on ‘novice’ not having done anything serious since we dived in Broome in 2012/13. Laura is a complete beginner so Jill became her dive tutor for the day and I had Annabelle as my dive partner. We only did short dives at a time, about half an hour each, and then went back on board so we could share the equipment with the others and grab a snack and drink. Laura was overwhelmed by the variety of marine life all around her and stunned by a pair of rays buzzing her and Jill on one dive. (Not literally stunned, obviously.)

Annabelle and I went to the wreck of the Lady Elizabeth three times and had a good old exploration of its rotting hull, gently crumbling away on the sea floor in the shallows. I was a bit concerned that there might have been loss of life on the wreck but it seems there were no lives lost when she actually ran aground but one person was swept overboard during the storm which led to its demise. I felt a bit reassured by that knowledge.

After a late and leisurely lunch on the top of the deck we set of to try and find the wreck of The Raven. This one had run aground when skippered by a drunken captain round about the time that my Dad’s family emigrated to Australia from Magdeburg in Germany. It was a wooden vessel and locating it is a bit of a puzzle as it has started to blend into the ocean floor. This was about the least interesting of the three wrecks but still absolutely fascinating.

After our final dive Pete decided that as the weather was fine we ought to do a circumnavigation of the island before heading to our SMS mooring in Thompson. This was a very sedate tour of the place which is not something most visitors get to do. We could see the Osprey nests quite clearly in Salmon Bay, but no Ospreys on or near them sadly. We hit the buffeted end of the island around Cape Vlamingh and we met the highest swell we had encountered all weekend so far. Laura’s stomach seemed to cope surprisingly well with the rocking and swaying. We pulled into Stark Bay on the engine, having taken the canvas down for the purpose, and we showed Laura the official rented family mooring buoy in the bay. It was a little choppy here and I could tell she was glad we had chosen to use a mooring in Thompson instead.

The north side of the Island isn’t as crinkly and interesting as the southern side, IMHO, but it is still pretty stunning. We tacked into the mouth of Geordie Bay and out again so she had seen that a bit closer than just sailing straight by. We rounded Bathurst light and found the shelter and tranquillity of Thompson quite a contrast to the rugged, point end of the island down at Cape Vlamingh. Laura now can’t wait to see it all from the land during the coming week.

We cooked our own food tonight rather than go and buy something on the island but we did tender ourselves over to the shore afterwards for another stroll, this time up to the Bathurst light house.  After that we, sort of, pitched up at Aristos (again) and had a hot drink – all of us females had drinking chocolate – and we sauntered back to the tender sharing a large bag of chips!

Once again we snuggled down together on the large bed and I had my arm hugged this time by Annabelle. Laura and I held hands for quite a time before we drifted off to the land of nod.

Sunday August 3^rd.

Woke up this morning in a strange position; I was spooning Laura with my arm around her waist and Annabelle was spooning me with her arm round my waist! It took me a second or two to realise what had happened and it was a good job I did, for in my half drowsy, pre awake state I was going to push the hand on my tummy down between my legs! Laura and I do this a lot when we wake up in the morning. Imagine the bloody consequences if I had accidentally pushed my niece’s hand down to my furry bit! It shocked me awake and made me feel a little bit sick at the thought. Phew!

I mentioned this to Laura as we sat on the prow with our morning mug of tea; our legs dangling over the side of the boat. She said that she thought Annabelle would have loved it as I must realise that she had a huge crush on me! OMG! I asked if it was really obvious and she told me it was to her because she could recognise in Annabelle the way she had behaved towards me when she was younger and I was off limits as an obviously heterosexual woman. Persisting with this theme I asked her what I should do.

Her answer was, “Nothing. There is nothing you can do to make it easier for either of you. The fact you are behaving as though she is your niece and you are her aunt is what is stopping her from doing anything about her feelings. I felt the same way but you so obviously didn’t; it used to upset me no end. I only told you I loved you because of that thing you say – try everything at least once or how do you know if you’ll like it or not? – I knew that if I appealed to your spirit of inquiry I might get you to love me back. I just had to know if there was a least a possibility of you being willing to try. If you had rejected me out of hand, I would have stopped seeing you and being your friend.”

I put down my cup, put my arms around her and kissed her. A quiet voice behind us said, “That’s enough of that. Any more and I’ll push you over board!” I was Suze coming to join us. I apologised and said I wouldn’t draw attention to ourselves again. She said, “I am bloody surprised you haven’t done it more often. It is so bloody apparent how much you love each other. I can’t imagine how you have managed not to show more affection while you’ve been round us?”

I told her I wanted to hug her and cuddle her and kiss Laura all the time but I thought it would be inappropriate in front of the kids. Laura just nodded in agreement and muttered something like “me too!”

“Well, I wish you bloody would. It is driving me spare watching you being excessively bloody polite and non-tactile around each other as though if you showed some affection in front of us the world would end or something! Pete and I talked about it last night and we decided that either you didn’t really love each other at all or you were being stupidly British and stiff upper lipped about your emotions. We plumped for ‘stupidly British’ I guess we were right.”

“We don’t want to cause any embarrassment.”

“Stuff any embarrassment, you drongo, just act as you would at home. I mean, are you like this around Mum & Dad?”

“Erm… No!”

“Well there you are then. I could feel bloody insulted that you don’t trust us enough to be able to cope if you decide to behave like a pair of raving lessies!”

I nearly choked on my tea.

“The kids need to see you behaving like a couple. Currently you could be just a pair of good friends. Showing them you aren’t afraid to show your sexuality would be so much better for everyone, really!”

I didn’t know what to say. I gave her a hug. Laura got up and hugged her too. I guess it needed saying or asking or something, I was just too scared to ask.

“Oh and by the way, if you want to bonk at home, just keep the noise down.”

Laura said, “We waited until there was no-one home!”

That made it Suze’s turn to nearly spill her tea.

Our plan for the day was a simple one. The kids wanted to hire bikes and have a cycle round the island, so we did. We booked our bikes for the week (as we’d be staying on) and the Rhodes booked theirs for the day. In order to be lazy, and as we’d eaten up, we bought ourselves sangers from Subway for lunch.

As we were staying on we brought our luggage over to the tourist office by the harbour, paid the balance on our unit and were told our case would be outside the unit by four pm and we could move in then.  We paid for bedding and towels too, so that we didn’t have to lug those across from the mainland.

Luggage taken care of we donned our totally unflattering helmets and set off in a clockwise direction round the island. This isn’t as hard as it may seem because the island is quite flat really apart from a couple of slight bumps. Once away from the settlement the only things we saw were birds, other cyclists, the Island Tour Bus and quokkas. Lots of quokkas, they seemed to just appear as if by magic. Laura knew the story about Vlamingh thinking they were large rats, hence the name rats’ nest in Dutch, but they are nothing like rats at all. They are just a small kind of wallaby I guess. They have the same sort of squat and compact body shape, with longish back legs and tiny forearms. They are definitely marsupials – we saw several joeys peering from their Mum’s pouches as we travelled around.

The view of the wrecks we dived on is completely different from the sea, as you’d expect really. The Shark is really close in to the shore we could have made our way down to the beach and snorkelled from there if we had wanted to. [We’ll not do that during our five nights on the island as we left the mask, snorkels, fins and weights on the boat, as well as our wet suits!]

The Osprey nest was even clearer from the shore line than from the sea as it only had either the sea or sky as a back ground. There was still no sign of any Ospreys on the nest getting it ready for spring. We are probably too early, TBH.

At the pointy end of the island, Cape Vlamingh, we had our lunch (a bit early but we were starved) and then went lizard spotting from the board walk. We counted 10 before the tourist bus turned up and we stopped so that the grockles didn’t disturb them. There were only about 6 of them on the bus actually. We had hoped to spot some hale spouts but sitting with my bins for 15 minutes looking at roughly the same spot of ocean brought no results at all. They do go by Rotto on their way north for the spring, once again we were probably too early for them.

We followed the road round the north side of the island and amazed Loll with the narrowness of the isthmus just before Stark Bay. If you had a good arm you could throw a ball from the beach on the north side to the beach on the south side. It really is quite narrow.

Calling at Geordie Bay store for a look around; we spotted an interesting looking 2 litre cask of Verdelho, so we bought it for our unit. This was quite forgetting that the store in Thompson  would have some anyway!

We watched the Rhodes hand their bikes back at the cycle hire place and then accompanied them back to the tender on the harbour side. We made our goodbyes with hugs all round and then waved them off towards the yacht. They seemed to potter about for ages on board before we saw them line up on deck as Pete steered her from the mooring into the bay proper using the engine. They gave us a sort of wave, salute type silly thing and then got on with hoisting canvas as it looked like they would get the benefit of a fairly good ‘Doctor’ back to Freo.

We went and collected our key, and wandered to our unit. I spent the next hour giving it a thoroughly good clean and wipe down while Laura got busy with making some sangers for our evening meal. We had salmon and cucumber sandwiches and a bit of dressed salad, a fruit flan and several glasses of Di Bortoli’s verdelho, which I have to say was very palatable for a wine box wine. [Our grocery order had been delivered along with our suitcase, to the door!

We hit the charp by 10 pm, though unfettered by adolescent nieces we didn’t actually go to sleep for over an hour later. Freedom.

Posted from Rottnest Island. Midnight Wednesday 6th August – yes I have been a lazy cow!

Brits arrive in Perth. Look out Australia!

Monday July 28^th

Woke up quite early this morning and took Callie up Tall Hill. When I got back Laura had got up and made breakfast (bacon butties) she often does this. We then Skyped Suze in Wranbro to tell her our flight itinerary and to give her notice of our arrival time again. I was all for catching a bus to Freo and then the train but she insists she wants to come and pick us both up so I agreed. She has a new car she wants to show off too. Our plane is scheduled to land at 5.35 pm so there won’t be much point in her being there before 6.30 at the earliest. She is not brining the girls with her despite their protests as the car might not hold five of us and our luggage. I asked her how much luggage she thought we were bringing, and when I explained there would just be a suitcase and a small rucksack each she relented and said they could come too.

Laura is a bit worried about the flight but I tried to allay her fears by telling her about how we could get a free meal, drink and shower in the Business Lounge at Dubai airport because the turnaround time to our connection was about two and a half hours. She was gobsmacked by the idea of taking a shower. I did it each way last year, having packed spare undies in my rucksack to change into. Towels and everything (hair drier, soap, shower gel, shower caps, after shower moisturiser – the lot) were provided free of charge too. There was even a free wi-fi connection so we could Skype home or Australia from the lounge. [I suppose you pay for it in the price of your ticket but it is silly not to avail yourself of what is on offer there.]

I think she is a bit worried about a variety of things: the length of the flight; meeting my Sister and her children; whether we can get frisky with each other; jet lag; having enough money for six weeks; will she get sea-sick on Suze and Pete’s yacht. They are understandable worries and I have done my best to reassure her. I did say we had better not get frisky at Suze’s house at night or when the family are at home, as we do get a little bit noisy during our passion and that might be embarrassing, but while we are in the camper by ourselves there will be masses of time to indulge ourselves. Also we will have the house to ourselves for most of the day during the week so we can have sex everywhere if we wanted to.

What she really wanted to know was if we could still cuddle and kiss and be lovey dovey around the house, like we normally do at home. I said I didn’t see why not? I am sure Suze and Pete will have discussed our sexuality with the children so that no one feels awkward about us being a couple. If she hasn’t she’s a bloody idiot!

We went for a drive into Cockermouth this afternoon to see the mess they were still making of the town and to walk Callie round Harris Park and down by the River Cocker. I also wanted to put on eight weeks’ worth of Saturday Lotto tickets for while we are away. You never know your luck, do you? Laura split the difference with me so if we win we can split the winnings. I reminded her that Mum had won $5000 last year in Australia and we would try and do the same while we are out there.

Back home we phoned Errol and he pretended not to know about driving us up to Glasgow tomorrow (prat); then we phoned Dad and he reminded me to pack Callie’s bed and stuff – which I had completely forgotten. Good job he mentioned it.

After our meal we watched more Commonwealth Games on the TV and had a relatively early night. Well, we went to bed early anyway!

Tuesday July 29^th and Wednesday July 30^th – All in one (obviously).

Journey Day.

We had everything brought down to hallway and ready by about 8am. By this time we had walked Callie, had sex, showered and eaten breakfast. Errol arrived at about 8.30am and we piled everything into his car. Callie had to share the boot space with one suitcase, but the boot was huge. It is even bigger than the boot in Dad’s car. (Errol drives a Passat Estate.)

Arrived at Glasgow airport at about 11.00. We parked up and I texted Dad. He was already there and found us in a matter of minutes. We walked Callie around the car park and then set off into the terminal building. Dad and Errol said goodbye when we went into the departure lounge and we sat and waited. We bought our usual duo; The Times and The i plus The Scotsman. We read them while we waited for our flight to be called and then headed off towards the plane.

First Class and Business passengers had their own dedicated space so when we were called we hadn’t realised all the economy lot were already on board. We were shown to our seats and I watched Laura’s amazement at the level of comfort and luxury we were getting in Business Class. I have travelled like this before so I was less astounded.

We were served our first meal after take-off and I assumed once we reached cruising height. It was delicious. I think Laura was just so excited about everything, I tried to read the paper but she kept telling me what she had found and looking at the view and generally being totally overawed by the experience. She eventually calmed down and watched one of the in-flight movie selections, while I completed the Times, the i and the Scotsman’s crossword selections.

I will not continue with the minutiae of the journey just to say it was dark in Dubai so we missed the sights of the construction and oil-money wealth being profligately wasted as we came into land. The heat was as usual for these latitudes but it was a surprise to Laura who told me she assumed it would be cooler at night. We showered and freshened up in the business lounge, as planned, and afterwards even managed to procure a pot of tea to drink, even though it was 1am!

Once again we were called to our flight after the great unwashed had embarked and we swapped seating positions this time, so I had the window seat and Laura had the inner one. When I booked I had assumed that seats in rows 23 to 26 would feel quite spacious (which they were) but I hadn’t realised my two seat choices were on either side of an aisle! We dumped the newspapers in the airport and I was going to read my book after the breakfast was served. Laura was still as excited as a school girl about everything even more so when she came back from the toilets and told me they were big enough for both of us to fit in there and bonk each other! If I had chosen side by side seats we could have fiddled with each other to our heart’s content when we reclined the seats into a bed! [Travelling alone you don’t usually think about these things.]

We did sleep even though we probably didn’t really need it and the seats are brilliant when they become beds so it sort of overcame us despite ourselves.

 We flew along the West Australian coast line from about 4.30pm and we had a great view of it from out cruising height. It looks wo green, sandy and empty. There are so few settlements to pass over at all. I spotted Geraldton as we flew over and told Laura we’d be landing in a few minutes and sure enough that is what happened.

I had a dilemma at passport control, did I stay with Laura and go through foreign visitors or through Australian passport holders? I was told to go through Aus passport holders so I had no choice really. Luckily Laura was through pretty quickly too and we didn’t have to spend long in baggage reclaim.

In the arrivals I spotted Suze and the girls before they spotted us and we had a joyous, tearful reunion. I formally introduce Laura to them all, even though we have Skyped it is different seeing the person in the flesh, and we wandered out to Suze’s new car. I was gobsmacked. It is a copy of mine. She’s only bought herself a white Kia Cee’d just like the one I bought. There is a difference, hers is the Pro-Cee’d GT which has only just gone on sale in Australia. It is petrol, not diesel and 3 doors not five. It is pretty swish though and may be really quick but Australian roads, in the metropolitan area aren’t designed for fast driving.

We fitted everything in the boot easily enough and Laura squashed in the back with the girls despite huge protests from Annabelle who had been clinging to my hand since we hugged and kissed in arrivals. She wanted me to come and sit with her in the back but in the end we decided as Laura is a fair bit slimmer (skinnier to quote my sister) than me she went into the back seat with them. I spent most of the journey from the airport to Warnbro half turned in my seat so I could speak to the girls who were full of questions.

We arrived at Suze and Pete’s at about 8pm and had a really nice hot cup of tea and a lamingtons. I has specifically asked if we could have a lamingtons on getting home and they duly obliged. Pete was his usual laconic self, greeting me with, ”Hello, you reprobate! How ya doing?” I told him I was fine and I had reformed thanks to this young lady. His actual words were, “Strewth she’s bloody fit. Sorry, I mean… sorry… how are you?”  Suze whacked his arm and the girls went “Daaaad!” Even Jeff had a fit of the giggles at his Dad’s crassness.

Laura smiled and told them she looked fit because I was slave driving her into becoming a swimming champion at the local pool. I thought she neatly avoided the awkward moment and nicely brought us on to swimming. [She is the one who is driving me to do more than 100 lengths per day now, BTW!] Annabelle told us she would take us to the pool in the mornings like we do in Sheffield if we wanted. (She did this last year) We agreed we’d try to start as we meant to go by swimming tomorrow at 7 am – jet lag permitting.

We attempted to go to bed at around midnight long after the kids had been dispatched and the four of us “adults” had polished off a bottle of Happs ‘Fuchsia’. I found it tricky to get to sleep and sat for hours configuring my tablet to work on Telstra (we stopped to buy a Telstra sim on the way home).

I had a few hours kip, though, before being ultra bright eyed and bushy tailed at swim time.

Thursday 31^st July

We did make it to Aqua Jetty by seven and had our usual 100 lengths swim. The girls took us as promised as Suze was on early this week and had been dropped off by Pete at 6.30! They actually tried to keep up with us with our lengths but both of them dropped out at about 50 and went to sit in the Jacuzzi instead. Jeff decided he wasn’t going to tag along with four silly girls (his words) which was a pity. I don’t get to talk to him much over Skype as his sisters tend to hog my time. I sort of thought he may have wanted to come along and ogle our bodies in swimsuits but maybe I am being unkind about him and tarring him with the same brush as the rest of the males of the species.

We had brekkers and then I drove the kids to school in Rockingham in Suze’s new car. It is pretty nippy and full of bloody dials and gadgets and screens. When I got back Pete and Laura were discussing going to Rotto in the yacht on Friday. She was really worried about getting sea-sick and Pete was attempting to allay her fears. He zoomed off to work almost as soon as I got back.

I drove us round to my favourite spot this morning; Point Peron. I went there the long coastal way round along Warnbro Sound Avenue, Safety Bay Road and then through Shoalwater. I could tell Laura just loved the views across the bay to the limestone rock formations, they are so eye-catching and break up the view really well. Penguin Island was closed for the season but I think they do run occasional trips over on a weekend. The car-park at Point Peron was deserted and we had the place to ourselves for over an hour and a half. Laura was a bit worried about snakes and spiders but I told her there were hardly any nasty ones around here anymore, plus they would be more scared of us that we are of them. I am not sure she bought my last statement.

I tried to persuade her to let me finger her while we were sat at the end of the promontory, she agreed but when I began gently rubbing her through her shorts she suddenly got cold feet and asked if we could go back to the house and do it there instead. That is what we did and for the next hour we gave each other orgasm after orgasm. It was as though a cork had been pulled from a bottle the way we just went mad for each other. Fortunately we had stopped and got dressed again when Suze go back from her early shift; half an hour earlier and she would have found us on the family room floor, naked and entwined with our fingers inside each other, making a hell of a lot of noise in the process.  

I cooked a chicken and pea risotto for tea which was much appreciated and we discussed what we’d be doing with the yacht tomorrow. Pete, Laura and I will drive to Freo on Friday morning and get everything set up and checked (plus making sure we have enough diesel in the tanks). We will stay in Freo and Suze will bring the kids over after school. We will have time to get to Rotto, even under sail, before it goes dark. Our mooring in Stark Bay will be fairly quiet as hardly anyone sails across to Rotto during the winter. In fact if the wind is wrong we can even tie up at a mooring in Thompson Bay if necessary.

Laura spent some of the evening seeing if she could get into any of the spare wetsuits in the house. She was able to get into one of Jill’s without much bother so that means we’ll be able to swim, snorkel and even scuba dive over the weekend. I have planned that we will stay on the island from Sunday night for five nights, coming back to Freo on the Friday ferry. That way we can have a really good chill out and get work etc completely out of our systems. We packed a joint suitcase for that purpose before we drove over to Freo. The reservation is already made for a unit which is just south of Bathurst Light in Thompson Bay. If the family decide to come across in the yacht again next weekend we will simply stay there and meet them.

Loll and I got very sleepy after tea, so we had a mega early night. We hit the charp at about 8 pm. It was definitely the jet lag. We should be OK tomorrow.

Posted from Rottnest Island, Western Australia. 3.45 pm.

Bikini clad blondes shock Lake District tourists! LOL

Friday July 25^th

Penultimate dog walk and swim at home, this morning.

After brekkers drove into work relatively early and got down to our final day at work together too. I know this is a total misnomer as I am in Archives and she is in reprographics but it does seem like we have been colleagues for a month. I must say it is very nice working with you lover but we have been very careful not to make demonstrative displays of affection in the place. I think I would feel the same if my lover was a guy. It wouldn’t seem right, somehow.

Had a slightly distressed Skype with the nieces when we got back from work; it must’ve been getting on for midnight in Perth. Today was the last day of their mid-winter school holidays, they won’t be able to come camper-vanning with me and Laura to the places we went last year. I hadn’t realised their hols finished so soon, but I did go out much earlier last year I guess. I had a mad confab with Big Sis and we have agreed that we can take them for a couple of weekends away in the van so they don’t feel left out. They thought it was brilliant and want to go to Busselton and Shark Bay. Busselton is ‘doable’ in a weekend; I think Shark Bay may be a drive too far for a three day trip. I didn’t tell them that though.

Laura and I walked down to Dom’s together with Callie and I walked back through Coumes Brook. I promised to take the car down tonight to collect her in case she was whacked out. I arrived early after completing the next Paretsky novel and had a long gossip with Dominic who thinks he has some relatives somewhere in Perth. I told him there was a large ex-pat Italian community in WA so it was entirely possible.

Laura was tired out and glad of the drive home. I walked the pup while she fell asleep in the chair in the lounge. She managed to shuffle up the wooden hills and was out like a light almost as soon as she hit the charp. That is tired.

Saturday July 26^th.

We decided to continue our morning routine as usual just so we could say bye to Sarah for a couple of months. She said nice things like she’d miss us and she hoped we had a great time. I mentally added Sarah to my Aussie goodie bag list.

We had everything packed and ready yesterday so all we needed to do was to load up the car and set off. We did this after breakfast and a last minute clean up. I went round to Julie’s to check she was OK with being our mail monitor and she said she was fine. That done we headed up country to Dad’s house. I stopped at Molly and Eric’s and we went and chatted with Molly and Steven, Eric was away working, of course. Molly was pleased to see us both and invited me to join them for tea – which led to the usual awkward moment when Steven asked, “Why aren’t you staying here Loll?”

You’d have thought at 14 he would have worked it out by now. Maybe he is in that long African river. His sister couldn’t possibly be a lesbian, surely? We dumped our gear at Dad’s after our chat with Laura’s Mum and then had the mad idea of driving down to Crummock and having a paddle or swim in the lake, maybe our last in the UK this year. I suggested we change our outfits so we could put swimming cossies on under our clothes. If we hung about long enough after swimming we could probably dry off without having to worry about cossie changing at the lakeside. I put on a knee length, sleeveless, jersey dress, Laura wore her blue, shortish shirt dress, both hiding brightly coloured bikinis. We had a couple of microfiber towels and our underwear in a small day sack too.

I should have guessed the shore by the fish ladder would be busy with both the weather (very warm) and the number of cars parked there – almost full. There was a hell of a lot of people down by the ladder so we decided to walk on round to the outlet tower and swim there perhaps. As we had put our jelly shoes on when we reached the shore we just started walking in the water at the edge of the lake after crossing the two bridges over the fish ladder bit. We threw Callie’s retrieving dummy out into the water for her to have a swim every now and then. The water was deliciously cold and refreshing feeling but you just knew that not too far out from the shore it would be very cold indeed.

We walked over the bump by the fallen trees to get to the bay underneath the northern summit of Melbreak. Here there are some conveniently placed boulders to sit on, one of which is broken to resemble a seat in both appearance and comfort. We surprised an old man and his wife by pulling off our dresses, dumping then and my rucksack on the rock seat, and running into the water. It was lovely and cool and as cold as I thought.

The lake floor here drops away pretty quickly and it becomes deep enough to swim only a few feet out from the shore. The water took my breath away as I began to swim out. Laura gave a half scream as the cold of the water came up to her neck. The only trouble with swimming in a lake (or the sea) with Callie is she tries to be out there with me, even when I am standing up, so I have to remember not to be out of her depth for too long or she gets really tired out!

It was really lovely to be swimming in my favourite lake in the Lake District but I was surprised at how tired I felt after relatively minimal exertion really. Our 100 lengths a day in the pool don’t prepare you for the reality of wild swimming, I suppose. We had a good old splash about and with the water being so clear I had a few dives to the lake floor to investigate what was down there. There were no fish, I must have frightened them away but there were at least a dozen or so bloody bottles. Mainly beer bottles, probably accumulated over the years by thoughtless tourists just chucking them into the water. That could be a slur on the tourists, more likely it would be yobbish West Cumbrians who had come out for a barbeque by the water and treated the place the way they seem to treat everything else round about, as one giant rubbish bin.

We had a sit in the sunshine to dry off and catch a few rays in the process. This did the double function of drying our bodies and swim wear so there was no need to struggle out of our bikinis and into our underwear underneath a towel!

The meal at Molly and Eric’s was lovely, especially as Eric seems to have stopped his sniping at me for stealing his daughter. [It was her who came on to me you stupid man!] I think the fact I am taking her with me to Australia has made more of an impression in his mind than the fact we having been living together for eleven months! Why can’t he just accept our relationship in the way my Dad did. His words were, “Whatever makes you happy makes me happy too.” Maybe it is because Dad is an Australian not a narrow-minded West Cumbrian!

They wanted to hear all about the flight and where we’d be staying. I found them Suze’s house on google maps and we looked at it with street view. I called up Rottnest Island (our first excursion destination) and showed them our mooring point in Stark Bay – which will be deserted at this time of year! I explained about borrowing my sister’s camper van (showing them pictures from last summer on my Nexus 7) and how we’d be doing the same route but in reverse. They were told about my nieces being so disappointed they couldn’t come too, like last year, so we have planned two weekends away with them in the camper as well. I think by the end of my massive PR campaign for Western Australia they were convinced I wasn’t a malign influence on their ‘innocent’ daughter.

We took Callie up Tallentire Hill before bed time and Laura told me that her Dad had finally accepted (to her) that he was horrified when she came out to them but has at last “…made his peace with the situation.” I am so pleased. I was able to confirm that I thought his reaction to our plans etc and his general attitude to me was almost like the old days before we had even become a couple.

We proved we were a couple for quite a while at home afterwards.

Sunday July 27^th.

I walked Callie up the Hill again and Laura zoomed back to her Mum and Dad’s as the girls were coming over for lunch and she really wanted to see them, she went to chat with her Mum and find out what time they were coming. The ‘girls’ are Molly’s other two daughters, Kirsten and Avril, both with respective husbands Rob and Andy and with Kirsten’s two children, Holly and Tilda. They were arriving at about noon to eat about 1.30. I was invited to come along too. If the weather was fine we were going to eat in the garden with Eric doing the traditional UK manly thing of burning meat on the barbeque! That was what happened, no, not burning the meat!

I raided Dad’s wine cellar and took four bottles of Uncle Hilmar’s wine with us to the meal plus one of my Lemon meringue pies which was lurking in the freezer and I am sure needed eating! It was a really enjoyable gathering, very silly and bantering with the wine (and beer for the guys – well they are West Cumbrians!) flowing frrely. Once again I did my PR routine for Western Australia and they all seemed sold on the idea of going, if not on the idea of over twenty hours of flying to get there.

Callie disgraced herself a little bit by snaffling Holly’s burger when she was wafting it about while talking to her grandpa. How was Callie to know that the wafting motion wasn’t an indication that she could come and take the proffered food? Callie was very gentle but I think it was the surprise of the thing which made Holly burst into tears. I suppose all the adults, who’d witnessed Callie’s misdemeanour, laughing at what had happened didn’t help Holly much either. She is only 5, bless her and not used to dogs. No one in the Thomas family owns a dog.

When we came back to Dad’s at about 6pm, Laura told me that Avril had whispered to her she thought she may be pregnant. She had done a self-test kit about a week ago which was positive and she had an appointment with her GP next week in Aspatria to make sure. She had told Laura (in secret) so she knew before she flew off to the other side of the world. I thought the news might have made her a bit broody but her words were along the lines of, “I can’t see why she wants to have one just yet at all. I don’t fancy thei idea myself.” I kept my own counsel on this, as I was really pleased for Avril and think she and Andy will be great parents.

We were so stuffed with food from the long long lunch we just had a brief snack for our evening meal and then snuggled up on Dad’s sofa to watch some of the Commonwealth Games events on TV.

A quiet end to a busy weekend, I suppose.

[This entry posted from Warnbro, Western Australia at 5pm on August 1^st.]