4.4.11 – Contrasts (Perth, Western Australia)

4.4.11 – Contrasts  (Perth, Western Australia)

I was sure I was going to have to shout for the Lifeguards to run out, BayWatch-style, to rescue him.  Time and again he stood up, looking about, and behind him, the Indian Ocean rose up in an elegant glass-green curve, towering over him, and then swallowing him up in bubbling, frothing white foam.  Sometimes he saw it coming and jumped into the falling water; other times it caught him totally unawares, knocking him head over heels.  But always his head came bobbing up again, like a dark cork on the sea’s acquamarine surface. Eventually he emerged, water cascading from his beard, and telling me how exhilarating it had been.  I’m sure being nearly drowned would be exhilarating, but I’ll get my thrills some other way I think.

Outback

Wanting to see the outback when it is really dry, we set off on the road north out of Perth.  Soon the now familiar flatness was on all sides, but burned almost white, with stunted brownish leaved trees dotted here and there, or bare brown ground stretching as far as the eye could see.  The earth here in Western Australia is not red as in South Australia, but ivory-white.  The sun was strong, and the brightness of the whitened grass and the sand on the verges strained the eyes.  Everything was tinder dry, and the heat shimmered relentlessly creating mirage puddles on the road ahead. 

Tropical forest walkway

Australian White Ibis

We turned towards the township of Gingin, intrigued by its name.  A bright green park, shaded by large trees covered in lush leaves, a little stream running through it, slowly turning a small water wheel, droplets streaming from its edges.  Ducks, tails up, beaks down, explored the stream’s mud for titbits.  Some waddled up to us, and sat down on the grass at our sandalled feet.  Nearby, magpies were raiding a picnic underway at another table.  Across the road, a boardwalk led to a tropical swampland, tree-trunks leaning together over our heads, thick green leaves growing up through quiet brown waters, an Australian White Ibis daintily picking her way under the trees.  And then, out of the town, we were back to the arid browness of the outback.  Down a quiet road, unexpected rock formations – limestone needles in Picasso-type shapes – baked in the sun.  And then round the corner, another contrast. 

Limstone Pinnacles

Moore River Lagoon

Walking to the lagoon

The sea opened out before us, glittering brilliant turquoise.  And into it – or in fact not quite – a large blue river flowed - the Moore River.  But as it reached the beach, a bar of white sand formed a barrier, preventing it completing its long held intention of merging with the sea.  The river, calm in the face of this change of plan, had formed a large quiet lagoon, in which a few people were slowly swimming or wading, their multicoloured costumes shining with water.  All the while, the sea thundered its ocean power on the beach, just a few feet away. 

That is one impression I am left with of Australia – it’s a land of unexpected contrasts.