Perth

The sky is clear and blue as I wait in the sunshine for the Perth bus. It’s late or I’m early. Not sure which. The bus driver is chatty. He’s called Damian. He travels. A lot. It seems that Perth bus drivers have great working conditions which enable them to convert overtime into leave and take very long holidays.

The bus route skirts the widest part of the Swan river which divides Perth into two. No swans to be seen. A cormerant or two is all. On the edge of the city the bus enters a free zone. No bus fares at all in the city centre. Just jump on and off. It is intended to ease congestion. It hasn’t quite worked.

I leave the bus at Wellington Street. The city appears smaller and more manageable in daylight. It follows the pattern of Sydney in that the CBD (Central Business District) is clustered between the older part of the city – the shopping focussed part – and the river. I say older. Nothing is very old, not in comparison to the medieval surroundings of my beloved Suffolk.

There are hundreds of shops and the main shopping areas are linked by a network of arcades housing smaller shops.

I don’t linger. Following the helpful information kiosk maps that are scatterd about the street corners, I make my way to Barrack Square. It is by the river. Massive building development is underway to bring the waterfront closer to the city. There will be a marina – Elizabeth Quay – and doubtless more retail and food outlets.

I have a coffee by the river.

A wander back through the park brings me to the Anglican Cathedral where there is an art exhibition. Works, mainly painting but some mixed media, by local students.  I am greeted by several people including the Bishop, as though they had been expecting me. One of the group – he may have been a priest – taught for a year in St Joseph’s college in Ipswich! A young curate starts me on my way round the exhibition. There is an organ recital. Only a couple of other people are looking at the art work. Some is a bit left field for me, and some very dark. But others are brilliant. I am invited by the Bishop to vote in the ‘People’s choice’, even though strictly speaking I’m not ‘people’. So I vote! The cathedral itself is unremarkable. It is brick built by convict labour. They went on strike mid build and the stoppage line is clearly visible in the brickwork.

When I emerge the sun has temporarily gone behind thin cloud and it’s chilly enough for me to need a cardi! Everyone else is wearing fur collared coats and Ugg boots. This is as chilly as it gets so I guess they don’t get much chance to wear winter clothes.

I make my way to the ‘Cultural Centre’ in Northbridge. The nod to culture comes from the location of the State Art Gallery, Museum, Theatre and Library. Since wifi in the library is free I plan to have lunch in the library cafe and upload yesterday’s blog, catch up on my emails and chill. Huh!

No wifi. Too many users. I can’t connect. I steel a free 20 minutes on the library pc to find that my hotmail account had been blocked again. Unblocking requires a code to be sent to my alternative email address which I then have to send to microsoft for them to restore my hotmail. Except it doesn’t. Restore it. I fret all afternoon but sort it very quickly once I get back to the hostel.

Anyway, I don’t get lunch at the library but find a little cafe in London Court – one of the arcades. Prices are eyewatering but I’m trying to be sensible!

The Bishop had recommended a small museum at the Kings Theatre. The tourist office is nearby so I drop in to get some ideas on how to entertain the young ones when they are here next week. The helpful tourist officer suggests loads, and also directs me to a free exhibition of Marilyn Munroe photos that are being exhibited in a neighbouring corporate office block. There must be more that 100 photographs of her – all apparently for sale. I spot prices of $3500. They are of course good reproductions of originals but even so….! She was very beautiful. She would have been 88 this year.

The theatre museum is closed. Another day perhaps.

On the bus back to Cottesloe I’m able to see where I am (no rain and bright sunshine). The sun is setting but the lure of sorting my emails is too strong. And now I hear rain on the roof.

I may catch a train to Freemantle tomorrow. It’s market day. I do love a market!