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.