After booting it out of Thailand, we spent a very odd and somewhat disconcerting night in a grand hotel in Kuala Lumpur that we’d booked on points. It must have been a 1000-room hotel, complete with balustrades, crystal chandeliers and manicured grounds. And I’m pretty sure we were the only guests. The kids swam in an enormous pool with waterslides and lazy river. Not a single soul there. No one. It was like the Malaysian version of the ‘Overlook Hotel’ from The Shining. I kept expecting Jack Nicholson to poke his head around our door and trill “Heeeeere’s Johnny”. I fell asleep as creepy thoughts of redrum whispered in my ear…
Having survived the night, we made it to the airport in KL with a couple of hours to spare before our flight to Perth, capital of Western Australia. We waited in a huge line-up to check in, smug in the knowledge that we’d oh-so-cleverly booked flights to Australia for a mere $86 each.
So, when the airline’s agent kept flipping through our passports before finally asking, “where are your visas?”, I responded quite huffily. “Ummm… actually, we’re Canadian. We don’t need visas to visit Australia. Like, duh“. It’s possible there was even an eye-roll or two on my part. Shame on me. Long story short – Canadians DO need visas to visit Australia. And we didn’t have’em. And I really, really don’t like being disorganized. Or huffy. Panic ensued. Oh, and I don’t like panic either.
We planted ourselves in the airport Starbucks, connected to wifi as fast as we could and tried to figure out if there was any way on earth that we could still make our flight, now an hour away. Turns out that there’s an entire industry devoted to huffy morons like me – we managed to secure 5 ‘urgent’ visas for an extortionate fee (in US$, no less) with a 20 minute turn-around. We were the last ones on the plane. But we were ON the plane. And for once in my life, I was actually happy to be on a plane.
Five hours later, we landed in Perth – the most isolated capital city in the world (except, strangely, Honolulu). We’d rented an Airbnb in a seaside suburb called Scarborough and, after sorting out a new SIM card, and collecting our minuscule rental car, we easily found our way to our little duplex.
It was instantaneously…easy. After several months of travelling in more challenging countries (UAE, Sri Lanka, Cambodia, Thailand), Australia felt like coming home. Clean streets, orderly traffic, lovely grocery stores, lululemon-clad joggers and volvo station wagons. Add to that zero language barrier and an Australian dollar that was on par with ours (thus, no mental gymnastics every time we wanted to buy a cup of coffee) and it was so, so, so nice. We were ready for easy.
Our Airbnb was great – three bedrooms, nice neighbourhood, laundry, BBQ, wifi, bathtub, yard. Did I mention laundry?! Swoon. Our host met us and gave us tons of great tips before leaving us with beer, wine and everything we needed to get us through the first night.
We spent the week in Perth getting clean, doing schoolwork and going on little day trips to the surrounding beaches, parks and wildlife centres. We ate at a food cart market one night (big mistake) and, other than that, never ate out again during our three weeks in Western Australia. Despite how nice it felt to be back in the first world, Western Australia is probably the most expensive place we’ve ever visited. We’re talking $37 for a mixed salad or $22 for a kid’s meal at a family restaurant. A pint of beer runs around $11. Mike even had to give up Guinness when we discovered that a 6 pack at the grocery store was well over $30.
Turns out that much of Western Australia has benefitted from the enormously profitable mining industry in past decades and it wasn’t uncommon for 20 year olds to be making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. Things are changing and the mining industry is now faltering, but the cost of living remains enormously inflated. Thankfully, for those who live there, minimum wage is over $20/hour. But for us….ouch.
Food cart Market. Burritos x 5 = $100. Thank you, no thank you.
We hung out at the beaches (free! yay!) and watched some of the most beautiful sunsets we’ve ever seen.
We loved Cottesloe Beach and I loved, loved, loved seeing the dedicated surf rescue teams everywhere. All thoughts of box jelly fish vanished and I could feel myself relax, even when the kids were in the water.
We spent a day at Caversham Wildlife Park and got to meet the koalas and kangaroos, wombats, possums, Tasmanian devils and loads of snakes. It was kind of ironic that we paid to visit kangaroos because the stereotypes are true – and in short order, we were seeing kangaroos hopping here, there and everywhere. They’re actually an enormous menace on the roads at night. Sadly, kangaroo road-kill sightings became de rigueur.
At the insistence of everyone with whom we spoke, we spent a day on Rottnest Island – apparently a ‘must do’ snorkel spot and home of the infamous quokka. That day turned out to be a bit of a fail. The boat trip rivalled the hair-raising ride we took in Thailand and it was so windy that we couldn’t even contemplate going in the water. Because, you know, when it’s windy, you can’t see the great whites.
We couldn’t afford to eat on Rottnest and hadn’t rented bikes, so we just kind of wandered around aimlessly, waiting the 8 hours before our return to the mainland. It was really disappointing, because those who’ve visited Rottnest on a calm day say it’s some of the best snorkelling in Western Australia. Lucy and Tom made friends at a playground and wound up happily playing for hours while Mike, Henry and I tried to ignore our grumbling stomachs.
We did manage to see loads of the famous quokkas – basically enormous rat-like creatures (hence the island’s name – Rottnest – or rat’s nest). A few years ago, getting a ‘quokka selfie’ because the thing to do in Perth. So, of course we had to try. They’re actually pretty cute, if you can get past the whole rat thing.
We drove down to Fremantle, the cool hippy-ish suburb of Perth that is home to the famous craft brewery “Little Creatures” and countless coffee shops, artisan markets, hipster bars and fancy bakehouses. We shared a couple of glasses of beer at Little Creatures and made the kids drink water. Then it was over to the infamous Fremantle Prison for a spooky ‘Great Escapes’ tour. It’s a dark, dank, eerie place and reminded me a lot of Alcatraz. It was pouring with rain and that added to the mood.
We hung out for an afternoon at King’s Park – probably the biggest and most beautiful urban park that we’ve ever seen. It was pretty empty except for cyclists and runners and other outdoorsy types. Loads of playgrounds and waterparks and nature trails. And miles and miles of the most perfect golf green grass. Mike had himself a little nap while the kids played.
Perth in a nutshell? I was surprised by how much we liked it. It’s a big city, but feels clean and friendly with loads of green space, endless beaches, pretty little neighbourhoods and lots to do. It was nice to stay put in a house for a week and get back into a bit of a routine. Believe it or not, by this point, we were all craving a bit of structure and missing home like crazy. Perth, for a week, was the antidote to homesickness that we didn’t know we needed.
On our final day, we crammed the kids, all of our groceries and bags and miscellaneous stuff into our tiny car and set off to pick up the motorhome that we’d call home for the next two weeks. The Ningaloo Reef was calling….no visas required.