Back on Gerty

I rode Gerty today! Yaay! First time since arriving in Perth and after the hospital/ flu/ nose fiasco. I was a bit uncomfortable but it was ok and I didn't fall off. And Gerty romped along. Really stonked along, like a determined dog after a scalded cat. 

I didn't go far though, just up to the hospital to collect copies of my scan CDs  which were free because they are medical references for me to take to subsequent doctors should I need to. Got that St George's Hospital and St Helier? Free. They are medical records which I need, and not a nice little earner at £25.00 a pop!!

Them I went down to the beach and sat in the sun for a while, before taking the long route home via Fremantle. I'm moving down there for a few days as I'm a bit over Perth. It's lovely there - a bit like a posh Brighton but without the pier and the crowds.

I bought an excellent map today too. A real detailed geekfest bit of cartography porn.  I've always had a thing about maps and I had hundreds in London, and I can read and reread them for hours. Sad I know but I don't care. This one is of the Kimberley region on northern WA which is where I shall be heading in a few weeks. Lots of rough isolated terrain and spectacular topography! Can't wait!

Then as a special treat, I changed Gerty's oil for her when we got back. I hadn't done it since Penong which was before the Nullarbor, about 2500kms ago, so it was well overdue. However, I had real trouble undoing the sump plug; I just didn't have the strength thanks to my recent medical woes, but I cracked it eventually and without stripping it even slightly. I gave her a bit of a flush through too, because I did feel a bit guilty about having left her full of black soup for so long.

I'm doing an interview thing on BikerFm tonight, talking about my two wheeled travels. 6pm Uk time but 0100 here in a Perth. And - fact of the day - the first person to ride around Australia was a bicycle maker from Perth, Mr Arthur Grady. It took him five and a half bone shaking months in 1924, astride a Douglas. There is a commemorative ride in two Sundays time, but as I really need to get going north, I'll miss it which is a bit of a bummer. But I can't do everything or go everywhere on one trip, so I'll have to catch it another time. Still a bummer though....

Stuck in Perth

What a 10 days I’ve had! You know when you wake and wonder what is going to happen that day? Well, it was beyond my imagination and I really couldn’t make any of this up. New twists and turns kept evolving, just as I thought everything was settled. So much for my exploration of Perth.

It all started when I got sick with major abdo pains, and despite the usual stuff you you with painkillers and vitamins and lots of fluids, I couldn’t fix myself, ended up in hospital, courtesy of the Perth Ambulance Service. And there I stayed for for four very uncomfortable and painful four bloody days with peritonitis, plus some other abdominal complications.

However, I was very well looked after by a lovely collection of nurses and doctors at the St Charles Gairdner Hospital, (which I can vouch for, should you ever need hospitalisation) and they sorted me. So thank you very much, nice medical people, and I will do as you say and return immediately, should any of the symptoms or the pains return. Promise!

But I was fed up at being ill but it hurt so much that I was actually quite glad to be somewhere being looked after, and I guess I’m lucky that it all went wrong when it did instead of the following week when I was planning on being out in the wilds again, on my jack. 

But as soon as I left hospital, I managed to get flu. A good old fashioned nasty strain that made my head throb, my ears ache and my nose become so stuffed that I couldn’t breathe through it at all. In fact I was so out of it, what with that and the abdo stuff, that it was hard to move around. Which is how I came to walk into a glass door and break my nose. Yep, to finish my week off nicely, I now have a 1cm cut on the bridge of my nose, a swollen face and two black eyes. It bled quite a bit too, and I have a big scab over the cut that looks like the wart of all warts. Bloody hell. My face hurts, I look more ridiculous than usual ( yes, difficult I know) and I’ve grounded myself until I get my strength back and feel safe enough to ride. I reckon a few days and I should be right.

But in the meantime, I’ve been pottering about, scaring the residents of Western Australia with my cuts and bruises.

It was Anzac Day on Friday, another public holiday and a day of commemoration for the armed services, mostly related to WW1 and Gallipoli. The city centre became a parade ground for a couple of hours, preceded by dawn services and a fly past from the RAAF. Not the RAF of course, but almost as good. 

I managed to get over to Rottnest Island on Saturday,  after having to postpone it because of the various mishaps.  Its about 19kms off the coast, a no vehicle ( except for police and other permitted vehicles) island, and home to a colony of quokkas. 

These are small marsupials that look a bit like the menage a trois love child of a cat, a roo and a rat. They are everywhere and are very unbothered by humans, and carry on doing quokka things regardless. An early Dutch explorer mistook them for rats and called the island Rottnest - Dutch for Rat’s Nest.

I wasn’t too sure about the boat over after the trip to maria Island off Tasmania where the sea swell was huge and I was very sick. I’d had enough of that unwell business earlier in the week, but it was OK, one of those fast ferry things where you hardly feel and bumps at all. It was out from Fremantle and back to Perth, up the Swan River - the Swanny, and it was all day on the island which was pretty good. A bicycle helped my circumnavigation and saved my feet , making a nice change from engine power or Shanks’ pony.

Rottnest is only 11 kms long and is mostly sandy bays with bushes, quokkas and the odd building. 

The lighthouse is probably the most visible, handy given that is its job, but they were shutting up shop as I arrived, so there was just time for a look around the outside.

A few skinks were about too, making the best of the warm sand on an overcast but still balmy day, and a pod of dolphins was feeding just off the coast. 

I wouldn't have seen them had it not been for a man pointing them out, and I still wast sure if the fins were actually fins or waves - my eyes are a bit suspect these days. But fins they were most definitely, although they look a bit too sharkified for my liking and there was no way I would have gone in the water anywhere near them for fear of mis identification. However, I do know that Dolphins don’t like sharks and will sort them out, so find a pod and swim nearby if you must, and you’ll be OK. Probably. Just don’t pick a gang of sharks by accident.

The rocky coastline of the island is home to various birds too, Osprey’s being one of them. Typically, they’d all cleared off for the day but their stack was there. It looks like a tall pile of old sticks, perched on a rock, and ospreys use them for life. Some stacks have been dated to 70 years old. Imagine that; sleeping on your old hedge clippings for most of your life.

The little graveyard on the island was sad, mostly very young children.  How isolated it must have been anyway, but how much worse for parents of sick children who had even less access to the limited medical facilities of the day.

The bell tower was lit up when the boat got back to Perth. A pretty collection of bells shaped in a bell like structure. But the PR spin made me smile: “ they’ve got Big Ben; we’ve got big bells”. Clearly somebody who doesn’t know that Big Ben is actually a bell and not the bell tower that everybody assumes it is. Hence the old copper line to sprogs of “ how many hands does Big ben have?”. “Eight”. “Nope, bells don’t have hands. Coffees are on you then. You wont get that wrong again will you”. And we didn’t.

But what they do have in there are  twelve bells from St Martin in the Fields in London, and have been dated to before the 14th century. They were recast in the sixteen century and rung to celebrate beating the Spanish after the Armada, the victory at El Alamein in 1942 and every British monarchs coronation since 1727. Not sure why they’re in Perth but they are.

The coast up and down from perth is very nice, sandy beaches, bars and a few towns now growing up on the actual sandbanks just back from the ocean. A few older places with those modern estate developments with decking and big glass that feature in soaps. They’re going up thick and fast though, and it had never occurred to me until somebody mentioned it that there are very few places in Australia where you can see the sun set over the ocean. But you can here because the Indian Ocean runs down the entire western coastline  and the sun sets in the west. If you live on the eastern side, you get the sunsets, but not the end of day show. So I guess that adds to the allure of the new beachtop drums.

The weather is getting a bit autumnal here. Sunny during the day but down to 8 degrees at night, and cold in the shadow of buildings in the CBD even during the day. I’ve even had to wear a jumper. Terrible.

I had a much needed haircut yesterday too. It was really straggley so I got it chopped an its much better.

I felt pretty rubbish today, I think because all of the bashing of the last ten days finally caught up with me. But on the plus side, I saw a doctor and arranged the follow up stuff I need, had another blood test ( more needles) to compare with those taken in hospital, got a script for some prescription only painkillers because my face hurts and wakes me up at night, bought some hayfever tablets to open my nose a bit and help me breathe, and some cough mixture thats rather tasty and will flavour my gin nicely. 

I was also accosted by a very clean beggar who demanded “ a dollar for a meal lady,you f*&^ing cow”.  What? I thought I’d misheard him so I stopped and asked him what he’d said, which seemed to faze him a bit and he backed off: “ sorry lady, I didn’t mean you”. “Oh really? How many other f*&^ing cows are there round here then?” ( there was nobody else around) “ If you’re going to be rude mate, either see it through or don’t start in the first place.” “ no, ok lady, sorry” .  Must be my scary broken nose or something.

And then finally, as I was about 800 m from home, waiting at a crossing for the lights to change, a bloke runs across the road and gets hit by a car towing a trailer, right in front of me. I couldn’t believe it; not clipped or winged but a proper smash. But rather than lay there dead, he jumped up and bashed the driver. It was just like a Candid Camera skit only it was for real. Totally down to the pedestrian too, the poor old driver got walloped but then  whacked the pedestrian back, then a proper brawl started, lots of shouting and flaying of arms and fists. So that was my cue to go and I was off, and a good job too as I’d only gone about 200m when the police arrived. 

So now I’m safely back indoors and not going out again tonight, just incase; two unsolicited encounters is more than enough for one day. 

Perth

Well, it went well. I rode up from Yalgorup to Mandurah with no problems. The later is on the Old Coast Road and used to be the main route into Perth from the south, and followed the coast I guess. But now there is a freeway which does the job better, missing out the bottle necks and traffic lights on way. It’s not spectacular or anything, just quite peaceful and wooded. Sort of pleasant.

Then I reached Mandurah, which is a bit manufactured. It’s like one of those developments around the old docks in the UK - Eastbourne, Portsmouth, Southampton. Places that were formerly ship orientated but got bit tatty when things moved way from shipping, but have since been gentrified and poshed up into shopping boardwalk areas, and recreational sailing places. Pleasant enough in a sort of Neighbours way, but not really my thing. And what with various northern pommie sounds screeching  out across the water, I had a quick coffee and went on my way.

There was a bit of traffic lining up to get into Perth, and the freeway was very reminiscent of the M25 on any given day. 

But I’m not sure what the filtering rules are here, so I sat in line which to be fair, did move fairly quickly, although a few people zoomed up the hard shoulder to cut in, while a few more switched lanes to gain an extra metre or so. Neither are great and I watch them like hawks when I clock them because these people don’t see any other road users, let alone bikes. And it is irrelevant whose fault it is; I’m on a bike, so I’m always going to lose.

Since I’ve been in WA, I have got that sense that it's a bit different from the rest of Australia. I don’t know why because its nothing particularly tangible, but there is something definitely different in the air. Several people mentioned it but I’ve generally regarded it as a bit of a spin on the ‘ they’re not nice in the next town/state/country’ theme that frequently comes to the fore when travelling. This place just seems more remote yet more together in terms of its own identity; maybe its because it is so isolated and detached from the rest of the country that it feels like that.  Its almost akin to an island, but separated by open, scorching land rather than water, with a distinct identity and a separation. Whichever way you arrive in WA, you do so through or across many kilometres of nothing. 

It is also the biggest state, covering half the country, and was the last one to join the federation of states that makes up Australia. Interestingly, it also tried to leave and go it alone not long afterwards. But that was back in colonial days and the bid was ignored. So maybe its not just me feeling it.

So Perth then. Named after the hometown of Sir George Murray, then minister for War and Colonies by founder Captain James Stirling in 1829, he of the Stirling Ranges and more. It actually sits at the confluence of the Swan River and the Canning River and was originally known as the Swan River Colony.The aboriginals called the area Boorloo, in the tribal lands of Yellagonga.

According to locals, the place has changed greatly over the past few years too, thanks to money from mining. It certainly looks quite affluent, with impressive big glass buildings and spacious pedestrian areas, interspersed with preserved older facades. 

There's a Lambeth palace look a like up the road, and an old school front down the end of the street. It's well done though.

The rifle range aka Lambeth Palace look a like, is the old Eliza Rifle range, which bwas used by the enrolled guards and the enrolled pensioner guards - essentially old soldiers pensioned off from the British Army and reemployed to guard convicts on transport ships. And Australian historian people please note - it's been Britain since the early 1700s ( about 1707 I think) Britain is NOT interchangeable  term for  England or Scotland, and if you really don't get that, ask any English or Scottish person; we will soon put you right. It's been that way since 200 years before you even existed, so make an effort and get it right please, particularly on your official history notices and boards because otherwise you look like tarts. OK?

How hard is it? It's even colour coded people!!!

Fremantle is not far down the road either. It’s Perth’s port, and the place where most of the passenger liners and freight ships used to dock in the days before air travel and air freight. It still has a working fishing fleet but is now more of an arty farty place; galleries, cafes and street art all just yards from fish gutting and net repairing.

Street Art festival in progress

Arty Farty cafe

Street Art

Three French blokes doing water drumming in the harbour.

An old sub

Those things they tie ships to

The botanical gardens in King’s Park is good, although I was very unimpressed with the weird Australian custom operating at the cafe of charging extra for basics on public holidays. What is all that about? Yes, staff pay is more, but so are takings because people are not at work so go out and spend their money in cafes and restaurants. I did hear several weedy excuses like ' its always been like that' or ' it costs them more to open on public holidays', but, nope, neither work on me, and both are vacuous rubbish straight from the mouths of tight arse greedy business owners who can bugger right off because I'll never buy from them once I know they indulge in that ripoff. Gits.

Seriously?

But the garden bit is cool and is right up on a hill overlooking the Swan and Canning Rivers, with a free led walk and Raised glass walkway through it. 

Western Australia has its own unique fauna and flora system and finally efforts are being made to preserve and encourage it, re-establishing the native plants and removing introduced species. They’re working to put indigenous plants back  because that's really what is supposed to be here, suit the climate and all that sort of thing. 

Banksia

Kangaroo Paw

Top fact learnt from there is that ‘eucalypt’ means covered bud, and members of the eucalypt gang are not denoted by leaf shape as are other plants but their bud design. It’s all to do with preserving water.

Eucalypt pods

And again

Again

Last one

And some old trees, like this old Boab, moved down from up north where it was in the way of road works. The tree is about 750 years old and the marks on it are scars from when it was in transit south.

And the State War memorial is up there, overlooking the city. prime spot and impressive.

This travelling thing is a weird old thing though. Jakob form the Czech Republic was in Mongolia the same time as Nadine and I were in 2012, driving an old banger car about but despite that, we kept missing him. But amazingly, he showed up in Perth a few days ago, on a bike, and as part of a two month zip about tour. It was great to finally put a face to a name and to swap tales about places visited. And like me, he has panda eye look - common to bike riders,the world over.

I managed to tick a few jobs off the list in Perth too, bank things, bike things, phone things. But then I got bit sick and have holed up for a few days, hence the lack of blog input and the paucity of pictures; walking or riding around have not really been options. But that will be sorted soon and I’ll be back on track.

To Perth

I'm heading to Perth for the week and will write it up at the end. But Gerty is ready having had her chain tightened and lubed, her tyres pumped, and her mirrors cleaned. I really must do her oil but can't find any down here, so that will have to wait until I can find a Supercheap Auto or the like.

So my plan is to ride up via Mandurah and the Old coast Road. That's much nicer than the freeway although some freeway kilometerage will be required once I reach the city outskirts.