I was mildly upset this morning as I schlepped through Perth, towards my rental car pickup, that I didn’t get a chance to see what the nightlife was all about. If I had made my first flight I probably would’ve spent Friday night in some bar trying to make new friends. As it were though I missed my flight and my schedule in Perth was a little tighter then I would’ve liked.
The plan today was to get a car and drive into Freemantle, a part of the greater Perth area that lies just to the south and across the river. Driving in Australia is becoming old hat but even so I was grateful to find the roads pretty sparsely populated. I made it to Freemantle without issue and got a parking spot immediately near the main part of town. I looked at the sign above the parking payment machine and thought the way it was written that parking on the weekend was free so I walked into town and went for a wander. It felt so good to be able to walk around without my backpack. The muscles in my neck, shoulders, and back were slowly unknotting as I wandered unencumbered.
Freemantle, or Freo as the Aussies call it because heaven forbid they have a name for something and there isn’t a cutsey abbreviated version of the name that’s in common use, is pretty much what I expected Byron Bay to be. A bunch of artisans and hippies with a well structured tourist center to accommodate visitors. So where Byron Bay was run down, confusing, and poorly organized from a city planning perspective, Freo is the exact opposite. Much like Scotland, Freemantle has benefited from a cash infusion from the Queen over the years that has helped them to renovate and modernize the town.
After walking through pretty much the whole town center I noticed a sign for a hop on hop off tram tour. Loyal readers and friends will know I’m a sucker for those and I entered the tourist information center to find out more about it and get a ticket. Ticket in hand I had about 20min before my tram was scheduled to leave so I wandered in a new direction. For some reason as I was walking I thought of my parking spot. I quickly looked up if parking was ever free online and found the official town website that talked all about parking and all the different regulations but never once used the word free. In a panic I corgi-ran (that’s walking very very fast at the verge of a run by never quite running) to the parking lot. I got there just in time to watch the attendant shove a ticket under my windshield wiper. Defeated I bought an actual parking pass for $11 which covered me until 1am, way more time then I would ever need, and put it in my car just in case they double ticket in Freo. I also made sure to pick up the parking ticket and made note that the fee ($50) was nearly as much as the entire cost of my rental car.
All this and I missed my tour. I slowly walked my way back to the tram stop and saw that the next one wouldn’t be for another hour so I grabbed a bench in the main square and listened to the local musicians who were busking for a buck. One of them was quite good and had even drummed up an audience for his one man outdoor concert who sat on the ground and clapped after each song. I also took the chance to catch up with mom who, after commiserating over my parking mishap, had a list of demands for souvenirs which happened to include bringing her a stuffed quokka. I had already picked one up for myself the day before at Rottnest Island and had noticed that some of the souvenirs shops in Freo had a couple stashed. I told her I would try to find one and when I looked up sure enough there was a souvenir shop that I was sitting right in front of. I went in and they had two versions of quokka - one that matched mine but was 2x the size and another which was very cute but not nearly as accurate. I went with the smaller less accurate one and then spent the rest of the day walking around with him in a bag til I got back to my car. Mom was happy regardless that a little furball would be coming home to her.
Finally I managed to kill enough time to have the tour tram roll up. I waited a moment before boarding since I wasn’t sure if the driver was planning on getting off for a minute or what but when I saw he wasn’t going anywhere I approached the tram. Phil introduces himself and I explained to him that I was supposed to be on an earlier tram and was it ok to take that one now? I’ve never heard any Australian call me mate so many times in one interaction. Phil said of course it would be fine and gave me a new ticket to use if I got off and wanted to get back on. I took a seat two rows back and the two of us sat there in silence for a couple moments before Phil announced that it looked like I would be the only one on the tram. That made me a little anxious since I was already so tired that I had hoped to just blend into the background and not have to interact, especially when Phil asked where I was planning on doing then gave a quick rundown of what the tour was all about that I only half understood. I told him I didn’t think I’d be getting off anywhere and he said that was fine and sure enough we were off on my own personal tour of Freemantle.
It turned out to be great. Phil was friendly and super informative. Since it was just me he even stopped at a few of the more popular places and waited for me to go in and take a look around. So I got to see the Freemantle prison and learn about its history as well as their world war memorial. The rest of town I saw from the comfort of my seat with Phil’s official rundown of what was up with everything. He would ask me questions and to take guesses on things and was very impressed that I knew Chicago wasn’t called the Windy City because it’s actually windy there. He even told me stories of the other passengers he’s had. By the time we rolled up to the last stop I was so disappointed that it was over. I could’ve hung out with Phil learning about the cities history for hours more.
Sans-Phil I made my way to the Fremantle market. It’s one of those things that’s in every tour book and was even posted on the wall of my hostel as a daily activity. Part of me could see why and the other part rolled her eyes at the hype surrounding the place. The concept of it was very cool - a huge open space with tons of little shops tucked into every nook and cranny that opened up to a second open air room that hosted a grocery area. The practice sort of missed the mark. At least half the vendors were the same kind of gimmicky toys, lotions, and cleansers that you see in the mall. People just trying to make a quick buck without any creativity. The other half were actually pretty creative but at the same time didn’t really feature anything that new from the other Australian markets I had been in. I suppose if you haven’t seen one before then it’s pretty good.
By now I was tired and thirsty and peckishly hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything since the pbj sandwich I had in the hostel at 8am and since I was sans backpack I hadn’t had any water or anything since earlier in the morning either. I wanted food but I also didn’t want to sit in some random restaurant. I also knew that I wanted to go to the beach and watch the sunset, and that it was slowly starting to get darker. After cramping up pretty badly two days ago water was my higher priority to food so I drove over to the local grocery, paid $6 to park for 30min and picked up a bunch of drinks and some Tim Tams then drove off to find the beach.
I found Cottesloe beach through a google search for “best place to watch the sunset Perth” and by reading through a locals guide to all the hot spots to go. This one seemed to make the most sense and I could actually find it on the map so I figured why not. The drive there was beautiful with small beaches dotting the whole left side of the road. I passed a few with benches to sit on and cursed myself for not pulling over fast enough to just stay at one of those. In the end I was pretty happy with Cottesloe though.
I pulled in and found a parking spot immediately, then spent the next three minutes before I left my car searching for all possible parking regulations. Thankfully parking was free but limited to 3 hours. I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be then that since I arrived a little early. I was so paranoid about missing the sunset that I ended up getting there two hours early. The cool part about this beach in particular is that there are stairs going down to the sand and surf but on the way there there are some elevated patches of grass, almost like stadium seating to watch the beach. I grabbed a spot and got comfortable in the second row and waited for the show to begin.
Having gotten there so early I found myself abandoning my post in search of a bathroom. Another point for Cottesloe is that the surf center, complete with multiple toilets, is right next to the viewing area. After my pit stop I actually headed back to the car to grab some things like my phone charger and my second shirt. The wind on the Indian Ocean is fierce and was making it incredibly uncomfortable to sit there as it cut right through my shirt and socks. I noticed that the parking lot had completely filled in the hour and a half since I arrived and now I was thankful that I rushed to get there because I certainly didn’t have to worry about missing the sunset now.
Resupplied I returned to my spot in the grass, plugged in my phone, put on my second shirt, and waited. The sunset over the rough surf of the Indian Ocean was beautiful. As I sat there watching the firey ball of a sun disappear into the ocean I thought of my grandparents and their trip here. I know it’s something I’ve talked about a lot but their stories and souvenirs that decorated the home for decades afterwards had such a profound impact on the path that my life has taken. I dreamed for so much of my life to have grand foreign adventures like they did together. The fact that it is happening feels so surreal and so serendipitously right that I wake up every morning I’m here thankful that the stars aligned in such a way that I am here living my dream.
After I raised my juice box to the setting sun and gave silent thanks for being here, I started to take a bunch of pictures and even a time lapse video of the warm round sun disappearing and it being replaced by the inky darkness. I originally wanted to wait until the sun was completely gone so that I could see the stars but as soon as it hit 95% set the stadium lighting for the beach turned on, ruining any chance I may have had to see what kinds of stars show up in Australia.
By the time I left I was one of five people on my part of the beach but the parking lot was still pretty crowded. I guess people were in the restaurants across the street. I considered venturing over to see if any of them were still serving food but then I could feel how tired my legs were and thought to myself that maybe I’ve had enough walking today. I repacked my bag, which was quite the task since I was already over capacity before I picked up the second stuffed quokka, and then set off towards the airport and the only restaurant I knew would be open for sure: Macca’s.
I drove through a bunch of winding neighborhood roads before finally ending up on a highway. I must have passed 12 McDonald’s and Hungry Jacks before the one I choose as my waypoint came and went. Then I found myself on a long stretch of inky black road and little clue on how to get back. Thankfully there are about a million roundabouts in Australia and I was able to take one all the way around like a very elaborate u-turn. I wound up at one of the other Macca’s and was grateful that the restaurant itself was still open so I wouldn’t have to eat in my car. Overfed and happy I was able to sit there for a while and digest while watching some YouTube videos. It’s amazing how much more like restaurants McDonalds is here. It was so comfortable to just sit around in.
Finally I made my way to the airport where I had to drop off my rental car in an unmanned parking lot, walk two terminals away with the keys, and hand them to an employee. The woman asked me if everything was fine with the car three times before wishing me a safe flight and then i ended up at the gate for my flight where I sat and wrote this post, then thanked all the travel gods that my bag, even at 110% capacity, still is under 10kg which is the maximum allowed on a Jetstar flight.
Once again I feel like fate or the force or whatever you want to call it has given me such a wonderful opportunity and experience. If I hadn’t given Jobin free reign of my computer or let him and Bren pester me into continuing with my trip to Perth after a disastrous start then I wouldn’t have gotten to see one of the better cities that Australia has to offer. I am really so thankful for their encouragement and support throughout this whole adventure and don’t know what I would have done without the two of them.
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