Beneath the Southern Cross, Part One

We came back, last weekend, from a two-week trip to Western Australia. When we were in New Zealand, I remember writing a blog almost every night we were there. This time, I wrote nothing until now. So not only will everything be in retrospect, it is very, very long. Therefore, I am going to split things up and try to give this report out in reasonable doses so I don't lose you all. I'll start at the beginning...

What a trip this was. My parents, Phyllis and Dave, and Mark and the kids and I flew into Perth, the only metropolis in the largest state of Australia. We spent the first two nights in the wonderful home of Dave and Salli and 7-year-old Topaz--who are friends of friends back in Colorado. They were incredibly gracious to allow all six of us to take over their home and then spend the day showing us around Perth. This part of the country looked very different than all we've seen on the east coast. It reminded me of southern California. The arid climate sucked all the east coast humidity out of my skin and flattened my hair. Kelly green scrub and stout bushes spot the coastal dunes. Palm trees shaded the streets along the beaches and decorated people’s front lawns just like southern California.

Perth is an easy city. It has bike paths and long stretches of inviting beaches. The CBD (Central Business District is the name all Australian cities and towns call their downtowns) was small enough to not overwhelm. Perth is a very young city. So young that, like a baby, it seems its personality has yet to unfold. I wonder what it be when it grows up? Cosmopolitan? Alternative? Business-like? Resorty? Hard to tell at this point.

This is Elaine (Dave's mom visiting from Lakewood at the same time we were there) Dave and Sallie. Not the best picture but sadly, we were off our photography game while we were in Perth.

My favorite time in Perth was my 18-mile run along the coast on the bike path that runs in between the cute little beach towns and the ocean. It just felt so easy, so friendly, so sunny and clean. We also visited King’s Park which is an impressive expanse of endless rolling manicured grassy hills dotted with sculptures and playgrounds and fountains and covered picnic areas. A bridge several stories high stretches across the tree tops and, from the middle of it, one can see the cityscape and the Swan River carving its way out to the ocean. It’s a great place to take tourists like us to gape at the beauty of the area.

Here are the kids with Topaz. They had an amazing time together. That's Grandma in the hat above and Salli to the left.

We visited another Australian playground in King’s Park. The US Bar Association would gasp in shock at the potential dangers one can find on playgrounds here. A tiny island inhabited by playground equipment sits in the middle of a river, accessible by a little bridge. The island has no guard rails or ropes or anything around its perimeter to keep small children from falling in the river, not even a sign warning those who are apparently too dim to see the water of the hazards of falling in, and most surprisingly, no signs relieving the park of any liability if a child were to slip off the edge of the island. The climbing structures were high and challenging and accessible for any child to climb on and risk potential death or dismemberment. No care was taken to limit their activity. I loved it! It was so refreshing to see children playing freely on such well-suited climbing apparatuses. I wish American kids had such freedom. Gabe and Jordan have essentially outgrown all the tame and unchallenging American playgrounds, but here you will see kids up through 6^th and 7^th grade still enjoying the advanced playground activities they find on your average Australian playground. Two points for Australia in my book, (not that I’m keeping score.)

The kids with Topaz at the beach in Perth.

We cleared ourselves and all our stuff out of Dave and Salli’s house and went to pick up our camper van which we hired to live and tool around in for the next 12 days. Our plan was to pick up the camper at 10am and drive a few hours down south to Yallingup where we’d stay in Salli’s brother’s 3-bedroom house for 3 nights. We looked forward to getting there mid-afternoon and having time to get settled, romp around on the 9 acres of country land that the house sat on and get acclimated to the southwest. Unfortunately, the camper van people were not aligned with our desire to get on the road right away. I’m not sure to what business value this camper van company was adhering, but I can tell you it was not efficiency or speed. It took them over four hours to get us loaded up. Due to that unexpected time thief and our 4-hour drive, Monday was shot. But we were fresh, we were up for the adventure and we stopped complaining as quickly as we were each individually able, kids stopped first.