Sleep — must have more sleep…

A midnight start to a plane ride is not a good thing. Over three hours in the air, plus two more for timezones, and we landed at Melbourne just after 6 am. Minimal legroom, no pillow, and a screaming baby meant that I didn’t sleep much at all. Joey managed to sleep most of the way.

A hot day in Perth so we headed over to the zoo for the afternoon — as did every second person in the city! A confusing place to get around, there didn’t seem to be any clear maps or directions and at times we found ourselves heading in the opposite direction to what we’d intended. Maybe you’re meant to pay more and buy the guidebook… A thick screen of bamboo between the paths was completely covered in graffiti.

A long day of driving, and you’d be forgiven for thinking that here — as elsewhere — the police are more concerned with revenue-raising than with road safety. From Walpole(-34.95,116.7333333) to Bridgetown(-33.95,116.1333333) the road winds through the forest, one lane in each direction, narrow, no centre divider, but with a 110km/hr speed limit. Not one police car could be seen. Between Manjarup and Perth, the road is a freeway, divided road, four or six lanes wide, assorted speed limits of 80, 90, 70, 100 and 110 km/hr, and we passed five speed cameras!

Tree-top walks, the Valley of the Giants, Giant Tingle trees, Circular Pool and an eco-tour. The highlights of the day. Running into Jo’s yoga teacher at breakfast was the bizarre coincidence of the day.

Arrived in Walpole around 4 pm, first impressions are of a tiny town, all set out along one side of the highway, with a park and tourist information centre on the other side. The old lady in the tourist centre was horrified that we hadn’t booked our accommodation months in advance. Told us that we had almost no chance of finding anywhere in town to stay — but the motel might have some rooms left. Rather than try to book them, she then launched into a great rambling spiel of all the local tourist attractions and which ones to visit in what order. Eventually we dragged her back the topic at hand — accommodation — and persuaded her to call the motel.

Pouring rain this morning as we got up and dressed and drove into Busselton centre for breakfast — a lacklustre coffee and a toasted sandwich. Coffees still cost $3, even for bad ones out here in country towns…

Just our luck — the day that we spent most of the time in the car has the best weather!

Breakfast was a little haphazard — the bakery that we thought we’d visit is now a dusty empty shell. So much for three year old guidebooks! We walked around the corner and spied a place with tasty looking croissants in the window, then sighed when the toasting of these was performed in a sandwich press. Tasty fresh croissant to a steaming crushed mess in 10 seconds…

Walking, walking, walking… a day spent walking around Perth. But first… down to the hotel restaurant to make the most of the “free breakfast.”

10 pm we arrive at the hotel. It has all the ambience of… a hotel. Nondescript, boring, large anonymous international hotel. I turned to look around the room and suffered flashbacks to the five weeks I spent in an identical room in Johannesburg in 2001. After quickly unpacking we foolishly decided to head back downstairs for a drink at the bar. It had been open when we came up, but despite the signs stating “Open 7PM to Late” they’d shut by the time we returned.