The weather has got very cold too, torrential downpours and wild winds blowing straight off the ocean, rattling the windows of the old buildings in Freo in their frames like an Adams Family extravaganza. Its been like the set of one of those 1940s movies where the wind machine blows water across the screen and makes everything look misty and faded.
There is a heritage festival on at the moment in the Perth area, with various events all over the place. I had marked out several that I wanted to see - a couple of photo exhibitions, an open day at the Governor’s house, a play, a bush walk with aboriginal women and diving in old deep sea gear in the harbour. Well, I managed the photo exhibitions and they were excellent, one at Peppermint Grove library, another at the Western Australian Historical Society in Nedlands, with photos of old Perth and old Perthonians. The latter in particular was made because of the people staffing it. I got chatting to Sue, one of the volunteers and as a result had a personal tour and many snippetts of information than I would have, had I just had an unguided look around. And I got a cake and a cup of tea.
But then on Saturday, because of the second hospital admission, I missed the rest of my carefully selected events. One of those things I guess but a necessary detour and unavoidable in the circumstances. But then every cloud has a silver lining; had I not got sick, I would have left the area by now and missed Arthur Grady day.
Arthur Grady was a Perth bicycle maker and an all round top geezer who in 1924, rode around Australia on a motorbike, the first person to do so. He set of from Perth, headed north and reappeared five and a half months later, having missed out a few bits on the edges. It’s fitting for me of course, because that’s exactly what I’m doing now, yet I knew nothing of him or his endeavour until I stumbled across the story in the festival blurb.
A bloke called skinny George and his wife Beverley put the Arthur Grady story and display together and bring it to Freo every year, and George had fitted out a similar bike to the Grady’s exact spec.
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| Skinny George |
Apparently, Grady used one of a batch of 200 bikes which were shipped to Australia from England, and after his trip, it was shipped back to England to the Douglas museum. Unfortunately, the Luffwaffe then destroyed it in an air raid. Skinny George’s bike was the eleventh made after Grady’s.
Like me, Grady took very little on his Douglas boneshaker. A toothbrush in the top pocket of his jacket, one change of clothes, and for sleeping an oilcloth; under it in a mosquito net if it was raining, on top of it under the net if it was dry. Added to that was a water bladder, a rather large toolkit, and two petrol/oil mix tanks. I’ve got a bit more - a laptop, phone, camera, sleeping bag, stove, plate, pan, a few toiletries, plus a couple of tee shirts, but that’s it.
Not a BMW and not one bit of Touratch in sight
Check out the sleeping gear - a rolled oilcloth
People kept coming to talk to me too; turns out Skinny George was pointing me out to them, and they were interested in what I was up to, where I’d been, what I was riding, and how to do it. It was great to talk to them ( as talking to people always is) but it still surprises me how so many people think there is a hidden formula, that they need permission or special skills or expensive equipment. No you don’t people, and there are many ways to do it. Just make up your own plan and do your own thing.
But for the record, and because its what I always get asked:
- No, I am not sponsored; I am self funded and prefer it that way. Why should somebody fork out for you, just because you ride their brand or sport their clothing? You wouldn’t expect Coles or Sainsbury’s to supply you with free groceries just because you bought sandwiches in their shops across the world would you?
- No, I was not inspired by bloody McGregor and Boorman but was wandering long before their makeup truck and catering van entourage left West London. Plenty of people do, have done, and will do; the only permission you need is your own.
- I’m doing it for me; it is not to be cool, for the glory, to write a book, to impress or emulate, or get my fifteen minutes of fame. I wander because I want to. And it is how I choose to live my life.
- I write and share my blog because it is my diary and record, but also so that other people who are interested in what I do and where I go can follow me and see some of the stuff I see.
- I travel on small local bikes because I want to; they do the job, they fit in, spares are easy to get and local mechanics know how to fix them. I am not interested in amusing people by wacky, crazy choices choices. For the same reason, I wear ordinary bike gear and don’t dress up as catwoman or wonder woman ( although wanderwoman would probably work) Early travellers like Arthur Grady did what they did with what they had, it worked for them, and it works for me.
- I am self sufficient, I always carry two days worth of food, a small stove, water, and a bit of spare fuel.
- I do service my own bike , carry the tools to do so, and know how to do it.
- I camp, rarely book accommodation ahead, do not hop from friend to friend or relative to relative, nor do I have a fixed plan. I travel in a roughly set direction, with an idea of what I want to see on the way. That gives me the freedom to deviate, or to accept interesting opportunities that come my way.
Arthur Grady Day has now grown into a bit of a show for anything old and restored - machinery, pushbikes, vehicles and prams, some or which held some very realistic fake babies, which I found very creepy, although I do get that they go with the whole pram thing. But the pushbikes and cars were great.
Check out the mirrors!
UK Police Velocette Noddy Bike
Look at these bikes.... one is 99 years old, the other nearly 80, but the design is virtually the same as today, with only the materials differing.
And this brand, the Swansea, a local make denoted by the five swans on the head tube. and the best bit about the Western Australian historical cycle Club is that the members all ride these bikes.
Unfortunately, the weather then became rubbish and tipped it down, forcing me to take the very dangerous step of retreating into a secondhand book warehouse, where I spent several hours poking about, looking at books which caught my attention. But I was restrained, and left with just two, a photographic study of where I’m going next, and the story of Burke and Wills and their failed journey from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpenteria.
Having walked around for most of the day, I took Gerty for a short spin, primarily how both of us would fare, but also to see Carnaby’s Cockatoos roosting in a nearby suburb. These are native to SW WA , and only found here, but are endangered and threatened by habitat destruction.
These birds have white tails and are one of only two such cockatoo brands in the world. They like tall, clustered trees like tuarts, and lemon scented gums, but unfortunately, many of these lie in the path of road or housing development.
So a group of local residents, led by Margaret, are trying to persuade state government to encourage construction companies to rethink their plans and let relevant trees remain. In a sort of Greenham Common meets Women’s sufferage of the early 1900s type protest, they crawl through fences and stand in the way of diggers to protect habitat, and get arrested in the process. I love people like them!
None of that tonight, just a bit of bird counting and watching, to help them evidence their protest. And the birds did show up, just as Margaret said they would, many arriving in dribs and drabs of two or three before the main flock, shrieking and squabbling as they found a spot for the night. A bit dark for pictures though.
And both Gerty and I were fine, although I her tail, unlike the cockatoos' is defunct, the globe having blown. So I’ll have to fix that before we set off next week.
And frock of the week goes to this chap, right under an appropriate sign too.
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