Perth Post Card

Key purchases after landing in Perth were three packs of chewing gum, an adapter for my electronics and a round-trip ticket to Rottnest Island located 11 miles west of Fremantle.


Just one example of the well preserved Victorian architecture of Fremantle.






















It takes about 40 minutes to make the crossing by high-speed passenger ferry. I would have missed the boat if it weren't for the elderly gent who overheard a conversation I was having with the subway cops (that happily resulted in a hand-written all-day pass on the Perth metro system) and offered to escort me to the ferry terminal. We had to make the next boat or wait two hours.

Busy harbor on a Sunday morning.

Credit or blame the Dutch for the island's name. It's hard to believe they mistook the incredibly gentle quokkas for rats. They're actually mini-wallabies, which are found pretty much only on Rottnest. Instead of changing the name, locals simply call it Rotto.

No photo can do this justice.

People come to Rotto for the secluded beaches, snorkeling, diving, surfing and a very laid-back pace. Private cars aren't allowed on the island and the best way to get around is to hire a bike, which I did. The only drawbacks were 1) the flies that descended on any cyclist who stopped anywhere except right on a beach and, 2) the wind, which made climbing the dune hills even more difficult. But those are very minor complaints. The beauty of the Indian Ocean here and the serenity of a community of 300 full-time residents easily made up for any negatives.

Fully wind adapted.

I didn't see a single quokka on my 15-mile trip around the island. But as I was cooling off at a picnic table in the village, I noticed two people training their cameras on something at their feet. I stood up and there were two quokkas. I wandered over after the photographers left. As I closed in to get my picture, a small group of children maybe eight years old came racing up and past me to crowd around the little fur balls. I was afraid the animals (quokkas, not children) would run off, but they didn't sem to care. They just kept munching leaves while the kids ogled and even petted them (not advised as I'd been warned that even though they aren't rodents, they are flea infested).

A local rott.

Anyway, I got my photo and headed to the outdoor watering hole, where the bartender, a young American who had lived in Portland at one time, recommended a Fat Yak. It did not disappoint.

Good to the last drop.

Perth turned out to be a literal breath of fresh air. A smoky haze had blanketed Singapore during the two days leading up to my flight out.

Cause: farmers in Sumatra burning their fields.

Result: the worst air quality in Singapore in four years.

Singapore officials complained and offered assistance on developing better methods for clearing their land, but a cabbie told me that the offer of advice or assistance from Singapore only sounds like interference to Indonesia. "They have their pride," he said. "And they've been doing it this way for generations and see no reason to change now." Maybe so, but perhaps the gods showed their displeasure shortly thereafter by sending an earthquake, tsunami and volcano its way the following week. Just sayin'.

Anyway, instead of the 80-plus degrees and 80-plus percent humidity and choking smoke of Singapore, Perth delivered blue skies, welcome breezes and what seemed like infinite visibility in pleasant 80-plus temps and 30-percent humidity. I will never scoff at the "dry heat" claims by Arizonans again.

Monkey business

The highest point in Singapore is in the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve, which holds the last patch of primary rainforest on the island and estimated to be more than 1 million years old. At 535 feet, the climb is similar to walking up the Counterbalance to the top of Queen Anne Hill in Seattle. But the typical heat and humidity made it seem higher and steeper.  

They likely put this rock here so people would know when they arrived. Otherwise, it would be hard to tell. The guidebook said there would be "scenic views of the island." All I found besides the rock was a sea of trees and vines in every direction, and a couple of rusty TV towers (just like Queen Anne, only smaller). Makes me wonder if the author actually made the climb.

The reserve is said to be home to 850 flowering plants and 500 animal species. Nothing was flowering during my visit and the only critters I saw was a spotted butterfly, a very large ant and a squirrel high-tailing it up a tree. Disappointed, I headed back down. But just then a troop of long-tail macques, young and old, came up the path toward me. 

I didn't get the best picture of the monkeys, but re-energized, I decided I might see more if I continued my descent on one of the unpaved loop trails. The road less traveled. Really less traveled. I'm thinking it's been a million years since anyone groomed the path.

As the trail got rougher, the forest grew darker and the cicadas louder. With all the mud and standing water, I kept thinking of the sign I'd seen at a construction site on my way over warning the workers about dengue fever. The graphic was a menacing, sci-fi sized mosquito. It took me more than an hour to complete the loop. Nothing much to see, but I was pretty focused on where my feet were landing most of the way. I felt good, though. While I didn't get a spectacular view, I did encounter monkeys in their natural habitat.

As I was leaving the reserve, I saw some critters in the distance. Soon I saw what they were. 

Monkeys! Everywhere. Running in the street. Lounging by the road. Chasing cars.

So much for my wild encounter. 

On the bright side, no dengue symptoms, yet.

A goal without a plan...

It is said that whatever you wish for at the Kwan Im Thong Hood Cho Temple will come true. But it is also said that if your wish comes true you must return and make an offering. Despite that hedge, it must work. A lot of people were there wishing -- and making offerings. 

I wished for success getting started on an idea for a best-selling mystery thriller. Wishing for world peace would have been more altruistic. And wishing for a winning lottery ticket might have been smarter. But "best seller" is what jumped in my head.

 

It's pretty easy. Just light several joss sticks, bow a few times in no particular direction and make your wish. But wait, there's more. 

 

Next, go inside and stop at the counter near the altar to pick up one of the cylindrical containers filled with numbered sticks.

Take off your shoes and kneel on the red carpet. Shake the container until one of sticks pops up above the others and take it back to the counter for your fortune, which may hold a clue about your wish. (If you get caught taking pictures inside the main hall by a guard or two ... or three, just keep moving until you get something useable. They aren't as mean as the guy at the bank who made me show him I had deleted the photo I took there. But that's another story.) 

Since this is your lucky day, you not only get a picture, but you also get an English translation and an interpretation on the back of your fortune.

 

The honey bee gathers honey with great labour. When the rain comes, or when there are no flowers, there will be no honey.

Interpretation: Bad 
When it shines, all is well. But comes the rain, and it never stops raining, forget what one is doing and revert back.

My interpretation: Come up with a more compelling plot. 

Margaret's interpretation: Find a job.

Delicacy or public menace?

I sampled this dessert at a food court when we first arrived here.  

If only I had seen this warning posted in the subway station.  

I'm thinking the punishment is so harsh they can't even list it here.

To be fair, it was the most vile thing I've ever eaten. The stench drove Margaret away from the table. I abandoned ship as well after making a foolhardy attempt to choke some of it down. It was at least 36 hours before I stopped tasting and smelling the putrid substance.

What was it? Ice shavings topped with durian, a fruit grown all over southeast Asia. Some love it. Some hate it. 

Here's Wikipedia's balanced description: "The smell evokes reactions from deep appreciation to intense disgust and has been described variously as almonds, rotten onions, turpentine and gym socks." I was in a grocery store recently where one of the food stalls was working with it and I overheard a tall, blond, middle-aged Aussie woman insist to the manager that there was a gas leak somewhere in the building.

I'm with the authorities on this one. I'm glad they're watching.

The Other Singapore

I came across this shack near the end of a bicycle trek on Pulau Ubin Island -- and I did buy a drink. I was feeling sick from the heat and I had exhausted my own water supply. Luckily, I wasn't far from the village where I revived over cool drinks and a plate of what was billed as fried prawn roll.

It didn't look like prawns, but it was pretty good, as was the view from my table.

The guidebook described this barely inhabited island as the last vestige of the way life used to be in Singapore before it became a hyper-developed economic juggernaut. Kind of a hippy paradise.

I got to see this decent-sized monitor lizard laying waste to bugs along the path.

And I experienced the time-tested ferry fleet operating out of Changi Village.

Luckily, the captain was prepared for any emergency.

All in all, a good day-trip to Pulau Ubin Island.