maggieasingleton's Blog

Up early. Too early. Packed, Repacked, Wiped. Tidied.
We have food to eat up. Bananas, apples, pears, goats cheese, avo, pea shoots – you get the picture. Interesting brekkie plate. I pack a picnic bag for the long wait at the airport. I just hate wasting food. I cram the coffee, cereal and tea bags into my over-full bag.
Owen helps by finishing the goats cheese.
We have an hour before we have to leave. I may have already explained that I don’t do waiting. So since I am already pacing I go for a walk round the block, past Poppy Coffee where I grab the now familiar de-caff soy cap and wander home to drink it and load the car.
So goodbye Cobblers Cottage.
The car has to be back at the airport by 11 and we have yet to refuel at the garage nearest the “rental return”. We park where instructed and look for a “Thrifty” person. We find an “Avis” person who tells us to go into the terminal to the desk.
“Just pop the keys in there” says the Thrifty person. Don’t you want to know where we have parked? Do you not need to check it over for dents? Nono. Just pop the keys in there. So why did I have a nervous breakdown in case we were 5 minutes late and had to pay for an extra day? Why did I unpack my bag looking for a pen to write down the number of the bay where we had abandoned the car? I have no idea.

Now a long wait. We are encumbered by bags. At least 2 hours before we can check in. Coffee. Sit outside in the sunshine among the smokers (in fact I sat on a nearby wall and got ants in my pants). Explore the terminal (a newsagent and a coffee shop) At last post Hannah’s birthday card to Queensland.Wait.

At last we check in. V quick. Through security. This is the bit I hate. Through the scanner machine.  Do they really think I have something concealed? Take your hankie out of your pocket m’am.

And breathe.

Through into departures. Lunch in the foodie bit. We look round duty free seperately so we don’t have to lug the bags.  Whilst on the phone to Alice she and I choose nail varnish. Three for $25 or something. Alice confirms the bargain. I buy perfume. Lovely. Owen comes back with sweeties!

We look together at Ipads. I need something bigger than this for writing. And then a first. My name is called over the tannoy. Would Margaret Singleton please report to gate two. Me! It’s me! Owen laughs. I go to gate two. Margaret Singleton? ‘Tada!” I reply inappropriately. I just wanted to confirm that we have managed to load you a vegetarian dish. Oh goodie. Deflated I return to Owen. Finally we board. Same seats as before. Leg room, no storage. 5 1/2 hour first flight. We get away by about 4.30. I’ve been up 10 hours! Food was dire. I get a vegan dinner in fact.

The flight is not full. There is a very young baby. Mum on her own.  Not enough hands. Trying to shield herself as she nurses.  The flight cot is attached to the wall but baby won’t settle. Because she is in roomy seats some idiot tries to push through the row to get to the loo. Jogs the cot.  Wakes the baby. In fairness the baby is little and does eventually sleep most of the flight.  More than can be said for me!

Again we have screens that pop up out of the arm rest. mine has a very very loud squeak as it moves. It may have been responsible for keeping the baby awake. One has a choice of touch screen or remote control. Touching the screen, even gently, makes the entire thing collapse – with a very loud squeak! This happens a number of times.  At first it is funny, but the repetitive hammering my shin gets as the screen dives forward makes it less funny (for me) and more funny (for Owen) as we progress.

Since I am writing retrospectively, the movies I watched on the flights have somewhat merged.  I remember MIdnight in Paris, Fading Gigolo, Great Gatsby (the last 10 minutes of which I had to watch with no sound and Chinese sub-titles as the headphones had been collected)

We arrive KL and disembark. I have now been up since 6.30am and it is 10.30 pm in some timezone or other. I have been up 16 hours and it’s bedtime. I have a coffee.

KL airport is otherworldly.  Built like a giant wheel, the glass-domed centre – the size of a sports stadium and the height of  a cathedral – is an equatorial forest complete with birds and butterflies.  We didn’t have time to explore but what a wonderful thing…. Around the dome circles a two storey tube with retail outlets on either side at both levels, including services and food outlets. Bluewater.  Then from the tube run huge domed tunnels leading to the various terminals – four or five tubes. The floors sparkle and the lights are like stars.  We have limited time.  There is a Desigual.  I almost succumb. But don’t.

Time to board again.  More security. I have bought us water and juice – since we have not left flight-side – but we can’t take them through. We drink as much as we can and abandon them.

Same aircraft as London to KL.  Huge two storey monster. In the third leg-room seat is a Malaysian man.  He is tall, for a Malaysian (which reminds me – the loos. One has a choice of a hole in the ground or a “western” loo.  I didn’t realise until I had encountered the hole in the ground wearing my very heavy rucksack – the girls will know the difficulties – but the “western”  loos are SO short, low, near to the ground, so as to make them impossible to rise from if one is 6ft tall.  (I remember Ray telling us that toilet bowls are always too short because they are made in Asia.  This it seems is true! In Asia they are even shorter.  They must assume that by making the export version slightly taller they are catering for people like me.  They are not!)

Back to my neighbour. I’m sure he is very nice but he sniffs and snorts the whole time he is awake.  Should I offer him a lightly fragranced tissue.  I think best not.  I tighten the headphones.  The flight is 12 1/2 hours.  It would arrive in London at 11.50 am Perth time.  I have been up by then for 29 hours.  I do get the odd nap, but a slightly jippy airport tummy prevents long sleep and in any event I can’t sleep properly sitting up with an old dancing hip injury. Time is a strange thing.  It passes.  One knows it will pass, but sitting in the dark, head throbbing lightly, dreading the next long walk back to the loo, it appears to stop.

But we do arrive and I ma here to tell the tale.  We encounter the e-passport facility.  Easy Peasy says Owen.  I have to take my specs off since I was required to for my passport photo.  So I can’t read the instructions.  The helpful immigration officer shouts instructions from the other side.  “Stand in the footprints”  What footprints – oh yes. “Slide your passport photo side down into the slot” What slot – oh yes. “No madam, the other way round. Turn your passport the other way round.  No, not the other way up, the other way round” OK.  “Now look at the screen” What screen – oh yes. Ping.  “It says you can go now” Does it.  Owen waits patiently.  “See” he says “Easy Peasy!”

We part company, he for the Heathrow Express, me for the National Expess bus stand.  I have an hour to wait.  Costa beckons and I spend a pleasant time with coffee and a lovely Melbourne student who is waiting for the bus to Brighton. She has British Dutch and Australian passports.  But is apparently doesn’t make it easier to travel. She concludes that it makes immigration suspicious. She is to complete her overseas semester from Melbourne Uni in Bristol, but is spending the summer in Brighton first.

Bus on time.  I read the free paper I was given with my water in WH Smith, and fail to sleep.  Something resembling a monsoon is occuring in the UK.  Avoiding two potential hold-ups caused by very recent accidents that have not yet been “recovered”, and thrashing through the rain, we arrive in Ipswich 3 1/4 hours later, on time and I’m collected by my brother, delivered to my sister (and my car) collect shopping and grumpy cats, and finally get home. I have now been up for 35 hours.  I stay away for a further 6 hours, somehow, and then collapse into bed for blissful sleep.  I manage 8 hours uninterrupted.  It is 4am. But is is light and feels like morning so on we go.

It was a very long way round.

Reflections of Australia. I’ve said it all already  What a joy to be able to go, to spend time with my beautiful Alice who I miss more than I can say, and with my lovely Owen. To see them together. For us all to be together, to laugh and wonder and just chill.  I am a very fortunate girl.

(Red) Wine and flat (white) that is.

I have walked in Fremantle today. Down with Owen early in the sun. Our first Australian Macaroon. Salted Caramel for me. Cookies and cream for Oz.

Very almondy and chewy. Delish.

Wandering round the shops on Monday is a different experience to the bustle of the weekend. Many shops closed. Few people about.

We decide to see a film this afternoon . Rise of the Planet of the Apes – 2nd prequel. I haven’t seen any of them. Will it make sense?

Owen returns to Cobblers Cottage to read. I can’t be in on such a day. So through to the harbour and out along one long sea wall I go. One of two small lighthouses stands on the end of the harbour wall. It is green and white. It’s twin stands on the other side if the Swan river mouth – the North side – and is red and white. It appears toy like in the distance.

When Fremantle was first a port – in the 1600s – the harbour was here in the South. Ships were able only to drop anchor off shore and ferry goods and people in on barges which were of sufficiently shallow draft to dock on the long jetty which is long gone.

I try to imagine it. A replica of the very first ship to sail here, the Duyfken, is docked behind Little Creatures where I now sit with my red and white.

Now this early harbour has become a marina and dock for small vessels. Food establishments of all shapes and sizes flank the harbour. Seafood predominates as expected. The commercial docks are further up stream, accessed along the estuary flanked by the twin lighthouses.

I sit outside in the hot sun. Other parts of Australia are experiencing frost and extremely cold wet weather. Rare for this country, but extremes are what Australia is about. Here it must be 25°. Slight breeze. Gulls wheeling. Crying. Stealing. Reminds me of Rye. Music is better though. Jazz FM. Reminds me of Helen. Hi Helen x.

A stroll through town after the red and white took me into the blue buddah. Blue for lapis (a lovely bracelet) and a full 45 mins talking to the girls in there.

Followed by a green smoothie except it was juice and for a juice called green garden it was really rather orange. Tasted good though. I’m in need of green.

Now this may not sound much of a deal but I managed to text Owen on his smart phone using my tiddly Australian mobile.

AND he replied immediately. Those of you with sons will know.

Its so hot I’m in the shade in the park. One has to choose carefully. The birds take no prisoners when it comes to targets and every bench is under a bird filled pine!

So I’m off to the cinema. Will report later. Ha.

Well what an emotional rollercoaster! Bonkers of course. But I am sucked right in and when it ends I want to know what happen next!

We emerge into a mild evening with sky pale peach and blue in the sunset. Supper is at Little Creatures again. Good food. Lovely view of the harbour in the deepening dark, lights twinkling. Last night.

After opening his 3 cards (actually quite good considering where we are) Owen and I set off North today, out of the city and eventually joining Indian Ocean Drive. The bush stretches away either side of us giving occasional glimpses of the blue blue ocean, sand dunes gleaming in the strong sunshine. The bush is a thousand shades of green with an overlay of yellow from the flowers that herald spring here. Really hard to capture in a photo.  The road is quiet and follows the coast. Not the usual dead straight freeway. Lancelin is our first stop for refreshment and a quick look at the beach. On again – our journey is 250k today – to the Nambung National Park. The sand dunes rise out if the bush on the landward side of the drive looking in the distance like cloud formations against the blue sky. There are yellow diamond shaped signs warning us to beware of wildlife on the road – black cameo outlines of kangaroo, emu and maybe echidna or porcupine. We don’t see any of course but it is hot and the middle of the day. Most self respecting wildlife is dozing in the shade. We finally arrive at the Pinnacles Desert. It is amazing. Calcerous pinnacles stretch up out of the sand. Hundres of them. Small, tall, all shapes. Research is inconclusive. I’m with the stalagmite theory but the science is not exact. There is a humming sound we can hear when the car is quiet. I spot a dragon fly but not the source of the humming. Next time we stop it is gone. This was and is a magical place. We should tread carefully. Respect the ancient ways  of the people and the place.

After a very informative visit to the interpretive centre we drive away to Cevantes for refreshment and to reflect on what we’ve seen. Definitely worth the long drive. We sit in the hot sun before setting off back along the Indian Ocean Drive. Birthday dinner follows our return with more reflection on a lovely day.

A whole week has passed since Alice arrived with Owen. I knew it would fly. And it has whizzed by. Alice flew back to Sydney this afternoon. Sad sad but so glad to have had this lovely funny happy week. And I shall see her in December which makes it bearable. And that Owen and I are still here in Freo with a couple of days to still enjoy.

We had a wonderful brekkie out this morning followed by a wander round the market and a few purchases. The conversations were hilarious and mostly not repeatable but it was a really lovely morning. We returned home to finalise the packing and having arrived with overweight luggage, now made weightier with the addition of a bottle or two, Al invested in an online luggage allowance! Better than paying double at check in. It took just half an hour from Freo to the airport (even though we had to guess which was the domestic terminal – having lost concentration on the way in) and all too soon she was in and gone.

I have redeemed myself in the kitchen and cooked a good night before birthday dinner for my boy. And the cab sav is beautiful. As ever.

We’ll see what tomorrow yields. No pics today except coffee. Lovely Aussie coffee. Xx

We leave our lovely little retreat this morning to catch the train to Perth. I appear to be last up. The bed is so comfortable and cosy I just can’t get up. It’s sharply sunny – I really struggle to see when the sun is so bright and low even with sunglasses and hat. So I am a bit slow and we sort of string out along the path. Owen in front. Alice trying to keep me and Owen in touch as I bring up the rear.

The train is efficient. It turns out that Alice’s NSW student status doesn’t count in WA but the ticket inspector lets her off as does the gate keeper. We won’t risk it coming back and buy a standard ticket which of course isn’t glanced at.

Having failed to buy jeans we walk down to the river where I was a week ago. Lovely to be here again with the kids.

There are no real plans for museums or gallaries so we wander over to Northbridge (supposed to be the edgy happening part of the city) and eat lunch at Govindas. It’s the same format as others we have sampled in London and Sydney. A proper Buddhist environment and a great lunch for $10 a head. I leave the young ones so I can visit the museum at His Majesty’s Theatre in Hay Street. There’s an exhibition of sheet music, posters, photographs, costumes and contemporaneous accounts of the songs of World War I. Some recordings of the time are playing. It all starts with a great patriotic call to arms to defend the ‘motherland’, and the music reflects loss and the lives of the families left behind as one would expect. What is surprising is the pressure building, through the music, on those men who have not enlisted. Conscription was later in Australia and the popular music of the day pulled no punches when it came to attitudes towards shirkers. White feathers were commonplace. The groups of musicians who toured Australia made a good living and carried on doing so well after peace was declared – to the disapproval of some.

A very helpful and informed volunteer with Cornish connections makes my visit extremely interesting. I scuttle off into the sunshine like an emerging beetle from my dark lair to find Owen & Alice who have seen enough of Perth. We head back to Freo on the train. Owen choses to come home. Alice and I go off in search of a nail shop. Not the metal sort. The painted sort.

We find one. There are 6 ‘massage’ chairs (the chairs vibrate) with footbaths for pedicures and about 10 work stations for hands! The staff are all young possibly chinese lasses and lads. I get a lad! Alice gets at least three lasses including the boss lady to see to hands and feet. I have to say the end result is great but the hand and forearm massage was like a visit to the osteopath and if Alice’s feet had been filed any harder she would have bled.

Al of course had trainers and socks. No no. Not after 3 coats of varnish. She is wearing a pair of borrowed flipflops, pink, three sizes too small. Clearly she can’t wear them home. They offer a pair of bright canary yellow PAPER flipflops to go home in. Yeah right. We have a 15 minute walk. So Al flips into Coles for a $2 pair of clearance attractive black flipflops which she manages until we are halfway home by which time the varnish is dry and she has the beginnings of a blister.

We decide on a drink in the market bar. Most of the stalls were still open. A group of boys are gathered near us – piled dreadlocks, a bandana, long blond hair worn with a full blond beard.  Quite a gathering. The piled dreadlocks fascinate me. The style lookes a little like Alice’s vegemite scroll from earlier in the week.  Actually it looks rather like a marmite pretzel. I am about to take a picture. Alice stops me, horrified. You can’t do that Mother! Shame. I would’ve asked him.

We trundle home mellowed by wine and beer, purchasing ingredients for a pear, goats cheese and toasted pumpkin salad from the lovely local shop.

The house is chilly tonight. Clear skies and a WA winter. Ah well. Find a jumper. Tomorrow is Alice’s last day. Sad sad.