Page 90: Back in Perth
     
  Hi, all. Yep, we're back in Perth but still living in the caravan. We hope to hit the road again before Christmas but due to the financial crisis we're not too sure of anything. Meanwhile I'll bring you some photographs of Perth which has changed a lot in the four years that we've been away. These pictures are, of course, primarily for those who don't live in Perth.  
     
   
  Perth city centre is like most modern cities - high rise towers with lots of glass to reflect the sky, topped by
corporate logos. Down between the buildings the streets are deprived of sunshine and channel the wind. 		 
     
   
  On Perth's main business street, London Court is squeezed between concrete and glass buildings.  
     
   
  Once inside London Court we were in a different world. It is lined with 'touristy' little shops. We sat and drank a coffee and watched Perth go by. Smart 'suits' with a phone to one ear, young women dressed up to the nines -
the full gamut all the way down to ourselves in shorts, T shirts and sandals. Tourists in our own home town.		  
     
   
  Exiting London Court onto Hay Street we came upon this strange sculpture.  
     
   
  Left: Down by the Swan River we found the famous Swan Bell Tower. A plaque proclaims it to be "one of the world's largest musical instruments and includes the twelve bells of St. Martin-in-the-fields which have been ringing since well before the fifteenth century." And they pealed for us while we were there.
Right: On the foreshore we discovered a new sculpture which was erected to "remember and honour all migrants who have come to Australia from all parts of the world." Hey, does that include us?		  
     
   
  Towards the east end of the foreshore we discovered a new lake and wetlands with a boardwalk along it.
There were also many palm trees lining Riverside Drive. Beyond the palms you can see the Swan River.		  
     
  The work done to beautify the eastern end of Perth's foreshore is lovely. It must have cost $millions and we couldn't help but think what some of the small towns we'd visited could have done with the money. Brought their medical facilities up to an acceptable standard, perhaps.

Ever played polo? Nor me - can't even ride a horse. Anyway, one weekend there was a polo match taking place on Perth's Swan River foreshore and our very good friends, John and Tracey with their son, Greg, were taking their churro vending van. What's a churro? It's a cinnamon doughnut but in the form of a sixteen inch long fluted stick. 'Inches' should give you a clue; they're an American invention, but very tasty, nevertheless.

But back to the polo. There were four blokes on horses on each team, plus a referee on another horse making nine in all. They galloped around waving sticks with hammer-like ends trying to wallop a poor little white ball. There were probably rules and a scoring system but they were way beyond me. 		 
     
   
  A polo match on Langley Park beside the Swan River. Langley Park was the site of Perth's first airport.  
     
   
  Tracey and John in the blue hats - and yes, Tracey is quite as dizzy as she looks. John was sizzling sausages. Tracey had sold seven churros when we arrived. She insisted on giving us one each for free, negating all her profits. The woman in purple with the strange pink hat is Pam.  
     
   
  Greg and John. Nice glove John. Hot dog with an optional prostate check thrown in? Pretty background.  
     
  One afternoon we visited Kings Park where we were surprised at what a beautiful park it is. We took so many pictures of the park and from the park that I decided to devote a Special Items page to them.  
   
   
     
   
 

To the right of the flag is the Paddle Steamer Decoy heading for the Barrack Street Jetty, just beaten by the
South Perth Ferry which is disappearing off the left edge of the picture. Anchored to the right of the flag is the
25 metre cruise ship, Kimberley Quest, which plies the tropical waters far to the north during the 'dry' season.

  
     
 

Most of our time in Perth was spent 'catching up' with friends and neighbours, attending to the car, caravan and house, not to mention our annual health checks and a meeting with our finanial planner. The doctor gave me a memory test which, she said, was normal and I was no worse than any other old fossil of my age. I asked her to confirm, "So I'm definitely not gaga and that's official?" She confirmed, no I am not. Damn! That was a wonderful excuse for all sorts of miscreant behaviour.

All our blood tests returned good results which, once and for all, proves that drinking copious quantities of red wine doesn't do you any harm. Possibly the opposite.

Before moving on to page 91, allow me to pass on three pieces of advice for us geriatrics that Pam learned from a film she saw recently:

1. Never pass a lavatory.
2. Never waste an erection.
3. Never trust a fart.

If you don't understand any of those, you're still too young so don't worry about it.

  
     
 

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