Featured

All in a Day #18 – Robert Ikin – a Life of Art

Tasmanian artist Robert Ikin 83, is my Dad. As the child of an artist, my siblings and I spent countless evenings huddled beside or under the cheese and biscuit table at art galleries, scoffing squares of cheddar and stale crackers. Around us, the adults sipped box red wine, smoked cigarettes, and talked about art and mundanities.

The scent of an art gallery is still fresh in my mind.  I recall smells of paint, wood varnish, cigarette smoke and seagrass matting, the floor covering of choice in the 70’s.  I would count red stickers when they appeared on pieces of work hung on white-washed walls and excitedly tug on Dad’s sleeve to relay the news of a sale.  He would stop talking and smile at me with raised eyebrows and then return to his conversation and his wine.

Robert last exhibited work in a gallery setting in 2016 at the Queen Victoria Museum, Inveresk, Launceston. The Revive Exhibition—curated by Ralf Haertel, featured work by individual artists and community groups with recycling and sustainability at it’s core.  Robert’s pieces were created from mixed media and found objects.

History

Robery Ikin’s resume spans decades, countries, and mediums. As a young painter in 1963 Robert was part of a group of Launceston Art School Graduates who named themselves ‘Images’ – Robert Ikin, George Richardson, Tim Waller, Wal Sutherland and Blair Gamble were the original five group members.  The group reunited in 2004 for a show in the Launceston City Centre Studio Gallery. Sadly, George , Tim and Blair have since passed.

The original members were the inspiration for another group of aspiring artists who called themselves ‘Images of Tasmania’.

The reunion of The Images in 2004

George Richardson, an incredible abstract artist and art educator, was my godfather.  He would always playfully ask me “are you reading your bible Lisa?”  I have vague memories of Tim Waller, a fine painter and also art educator and memories of weekends at Blair’s beautiful home in Hobart, as a child. Dad and Wally still regularly catch up and make music CDs together.

Around this time, 1964, I was born in Launceston at Queen Victoria Hospital.  We lived in a modern home in West Launceston, a stone’s throw from the Cataract Gorge.  We moved to live in Adelaide at some point, where Dad continued to paint but also worked a day job.  For as long as I could remember, he was a travelling salesman by day. We lived in a terrace house on Rundle Street. In my mind the sun was always shining. My sister was born there in 1967.

My first home in Launceston – a modern home for the time.

The sudden death of my mother when I was five brought significant change and trauma. We moved back to Tasmania, living with my grandmother for a time before dad remarried.  For a number of years, Dad was a lighthouse keeper, and we lived an isolated life with correspondence schooling on some of the most wild and remote islands in Tasmania and Australia. Eventually with new siblings (a sister and brother) and a need for me to attend high school, we moved back to the Tasmanian mainland when I was 12 years old.

In 1979, Robert completed a postgraduate qualification in ceramics at the School of Art, Tasmanian State Institute of Technology, Launceston, followed by his first exhibition at the Design Centre of Tasmania in Launceston. 

He was studying and practising art for most of my high school years. We lived out of town and on the last school bus stop for country town, Scottsdale. After living in isolation for so long it didn’t feel unusual to still be on the fringes.

I finished Year 10 at Scottsdale High in 1980 and in early 1981, there was a move to Darwin, where Dad took a job in a Darwin Art School. I went to year 11 in Darwin, met a boy and left home. I ended up living there for four years before fleeing the boy and the humidity to live in Perth. Dad only stayed a year in Darwin, returning to Tasmania with new partner, Gardie and plans to settle down.

Public Collections

Robert has exhibited widely throughout Tasmania and is represented in many public collections, including the Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery, Devonport Regional Gallery, University of Tas Collection, Hobart and the Tasmanian Government’s Art for Public Buildings Scheme.

Another Short History of the World (detail) light box. Robert Ikin 2004 – QVMAG, Launceston Tasmania

Snakepit Gallery

In 1992, Rob and fellow artists Bea Maddock and Gardenia Palmer formed the Launceston Art Cooperative. The cooperative’s headquarters was a small disused warehouse in Launceston, which they named ‘Snakepit’ due to rumours that a snake trainer used to train snakes in the building! 

The space existed for local Launceston artists and craftspeople to exhibit freely as part of a cooperative membership. The gallery was a huge success and hosted over 100 fortnightly shows until 1996 when the cooperative dissolved due to fewer artists using the space. 

By this stage, I was living on the other side of Australia, and had birthed my first child, but I remember visiting the Snakepit when I was in Launceston. My grandmother was still alive as I have a photo sitting on the steps of the Snakepit with her. I’m sure seagrass matting was a feature.

No Poetry

One of Robert’s major works, ‘No Poetry,’ a mixed-media work using mainly found objects, was exhibited at the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery in Hobart and The Queen Victoria Museum in Launceston.  Representing the eight months from January 1 to August 6, the finished work was presented on the anniversary of Hiroshima Day 1995. He recreated the work in 2001 and subsequently in 2013 as a moving sound and image piece.  

I have one piece from the No Poetry show, an exhibition I attended while visiting with family. My second baby was born in 1994 and I was still living in Perth.

Public Art

In 2000, Robert installed a huge ceramic work entitled “Mandala,” 8.5 metres in diameter, commissioned by the Tasmanian Government. The piece comprised 888 hand-made tiles, each hand-incised and hand-decorated. For the next few years, Robert consistently exhibited and installed public art throughout Tasmania.

Mandala 2001

Pictured below is some detail of the ceramic tiles installed at the Ulverstone Police building in 1996.

European Connections

2007 saw the first collaboration with the Netherlands and the University of Tasmania. Robert was part of the Tasmanie Project, “No Person is an Island” suite of works and “At the Hop” –  five short projection pieces at  Gallerie de Meerse, Hoofdorp, Netherlands.

Between 2010 and 2015, Robert Ikin and his wife and fellow artist Gardie Palmer exhibited in the Netherlands multiple times: 

  • Galerie ‘t Haentje Je Te Paart , Mels Dees. Middelburg
  • pARTners Kulturele Evenementen Groepen Schijndel in Schijndel
  • Museum allen Tijden.  
  • Ateliers Patagonia + Guests – KEG-expo, Schindel.

In 2008, he and Gardie lived in Paris as part of the prestigious Rosamond McCulloch Studio Residency at the Cite des Arts. Some of the work he made in Paris was exhibited in Marcher Sur La Pelouse—Exhibition from past residents of the McCulloch Studio in Paris at Plimsoll Gallery, Hobart, in 2009 and his ‘From Here to Patagonia’ show at Colville Street Art Gallery in Hobart in 2010.

Sculpture Projects

Robert  has been involved in many site-specific sculpture projects at incredible outdoor sites, including twice at Roaring Beach on the Tasman Peninsula, the Mt. Wellington Sculpture Trail, Jackeys Marsh Sculpture Trail, Shadows on the Water on the Upper Esk in N.E. Tasmania, and The National Rose Garden at Woolmers, all in Tasmania. 

 “dejeuner sur l’herbe” objects, clay and clay slip. Site specific work. Mount Wellington Sculpture Trail, 2002

I accompanied Dad to one of the Roaring Beach sculpture projects in 2001.  The location and the incredible pieces became the backdrop to my marriage breakup – if you’re going to have a crisis, why not in one of Tasmania’s wilderness locations and surrounded by art!

Solo Exhibition

His most recent solo exhibition, “Interactions,” was at Poimena Gallery in 2013, where he had just completed an Artist-in-Residency. This show included video documentation of “Solstice to Solstice,”  a piece based on daily divinations from winter solstice to summer solstice 2012, as well as new ceramics and digital works.

Exhibition 2024

Far from resting on his laurels, Robert has never stopped creating new work and is now on the eve of his first solo show in eight years.  

On May 16 2024, the walls at Gallows Art Space at Launceston College will become a temporary home to some of Robert’s newest works with a scattering of the old.  He says it’s a retrospective without being a retrospective- spanning years and encompassing a multitude of mediums from ceramics and oil painting to digital images and a mixture of all those things.  The show is a non-commercial show which Robert says gives him a lot of freedom to explore and create.  

He wants to show the links between old and new. For example, the patterns on some of his old ceramic pots are echoed in the work he is producing today.  Pieces from 10 years ago that he created using a lightbox have been brought back to life in new multimedia prints and collages.  Small ceramic figures mounted in a display box were recently turned into images on bathroom tiles in a private Launceston home.  The same figures have been featured for many years, both as ceramics and images. 

Robert currently works from his studio in the Tasmanian bush, a peaceful retreat from the hustle of city life, even though the closest semblance of ‘city life’ is the sleepy town of Launceston.  His studio is a place of seeming disorder and multi-layers of works, finished, part finished and repurposed.  It’s only when you spend time that you realise everything has its place in time and is a testament to Robert’s unique perspective and artistic processes.

Robert loves fine-tuning the pieces and eventually containing them in frames and perspex boxes, a process he finds exciting. He collects frames over a long period from second-hand shops, Op shops, and friends.  He then personalises each one by stripping them back, extending them to fit the unique 3D quality of his work.

I was privileged to spend a couple of weeks with Dad  earlier this year, observing the finishing touches to his latest exhibition. Come to the Gallows Art Space at Launceston College between 16 May and 16 June to see what promises to be the show of a lifetime. The opening will be held on Thursday 16 May 2024.

107-119 Paterson Street, TAS, 7250

Visit Robert Ikin’s Website

Featured

All in a Day #17 – Remote Paradise, is there any other?

Heaven is a remote paradise. Ansons Bay is two hours drive from one remote mountain paradise, Myrtle Bank in northeast Tasmania, to the ocean and the Bay of Fires.

Note: I have written about this trip before with more details and links. A link to my previous trip is at the end of this piece.

The Drive

Forest flashes past with green speed. Man ferns (person ferns?) tower over shrubs and shade rocky outcrops from the dappled sun. Moss underfoot (were I walking) so spongey and vital, green and alive. Gradually the landscape changes to become coastal plains. Dust flicks from the wheels of the speeding car and sea mist coats the distant outline of coastal hills, a blanket, slightly damp and salty.

Day One

The breeze plays gently with this morning’s swimwear pegged at a jaunty angle on the green plastic clothesline cord. Op shop pegs. The bathers brush provocatively against the towel as rain threatens our previously sunny disposition.

Pending rain and it looks like it will be a laydown on last night’s sandy sheets for a nap, drifting off to the sound of pitter patter on the roof. The birds rejoice. Sandy feet and skin soft from salt water immersion in the sandy shallows at Policeman’s Point followed by a cool rainwater rinse.

Dad washes the dishes outside on the tank stand before the rain sets in “we won’t have to rinse these!” he says. A car passes on the road with mountainbikes atop ready for action in Australia’s mountain bike capital – the formerly sleepy town of Derby. He pauses his washing and looks up, a single word escaping his lips, “Derby” and returns to his dishes oblivious to other sounds with his earbuds in.

Day Two

Evening drinks in the Caravan seated on unmade beds with sandy feet. A spur of the moment walk down to the shore for exercise and “to blow out the cobwebs”. Children play along the shore, taunting one another with names and actions. They freeze as we approach and say “Hi” selfconsciously.

The sand is soft and the weed underfoot squelches through toes. We leave the shore and walk along the road past houses bunkering down for the evening. Smoke escapes some chimneys despite the warmth of this summer night. A border collie strains on its chain and barks a warning, or is it an invititaion?

A bit further on a tall Bennett’s Wallaby speeds across the road in front of us. We freeze and watch her bounding retreat.

Day Three

A trip to St Helens for supplies, op shopping and fish and chips. It’s a tradition and a necessity. We get to town in time for date scones and coffee at our favourite cafe, then it’s meandering from op shop to tip shop, to op shop again. We fill the back of the car with our treasures – clothes, bric a brac, books and jewellery.

By lunch time we are ready for fish and chips on the wharf. Families wait on the jetty while the delicious smell of fresh fish wafts across the water. Young children with fishing lines cast hopefully into the bay.

Back to Ansons Bay for a siesta and plans for mussell foraging in the shallows, later that evening.

Day Four

It’s all sunshine and blue sky on the bay. A great day for a paddle? Feelers have already been put out for a kayak to borrow, but no reply, so a trip to the beach it is. We always stop and chat to the cows.

A final swim at Policeman’s Point where the tide is out. The blues astonish with their depth of field, water of varying depths and colours. The tide is receding fast – there is only time for a quick dip and out. We finish with a walk along the beach before going back to pack up camp to head for home.

Fold up beds, clear out perishables, leave no crumbs for the ants, turn off the gas, the water and lock all the doors. Packing is frantic and some get left behind. But is there another way?

On our way home we stop to check out the Little Blue Lake just out of Gladstone. Astounding colours that could only be created by a disruption to the environment – an old mining site.

The trip back to Myrtle Bank is the reverse with a stop in to Scottsdale for pies and pasties, sneaky lamingtons washed down with Farmer’s Union Coffee on sidewalk tables. A chat with some locals – lean in for some town gossip, familiar and warm.

Groceries purchased, and a final browse of the local op shops, we pass the remainder of the trip uneventfully. Happy to get back to showers and comfy chairs. Back to mountain paradise! Check out another trip to this part of the world here.

Featured

All in a Day #16 – Hyde Park – An Obituary?

My backyard

Hyde Park in Mount Lawley has been my backyard for over 30 years. A place of solitude, a running track, a picnic spot, a catch up with friends, a live music venue, a birdwatching platform, a dog walking park, a playground for my kids and now grandkids and most of all somewhere to go when the weather is stupidly hot.

My first visit to Hyde Park was within weeks of moving to Perth in the mid- eighties. My new friend and housemate, Glen, thrust a can of Emu Bitter in my hand and threw me my car keys (he didn’t drive) saying “I need to show you something.”

So, beer in hand we drove to Hyde Park from Subiaco and walked a couple of laps of this magnifcient park. No stranger to these types of parks, being from Tassie, I agreed it was beautiful and vowed to visit again soon. It became the place I took visitors to or went for a picnic occasionally.

It wasn’t until years later when I moved to within walking distance of Hyde Park that it became a regular haunt. We lived in a townhouse with a small courtyard and Hyde Park was our backyard, frontyard and playground.

It was the thoroughfare we used to walk or ride our bikes to our local primary school, the place my kids had birthday parties and caught up with their friends after school. It was grazed knees, icypoles and arvo tea before heading home after school.

It was (and still is) my daily walk – to check on the ducks and lately to count the trees. During my running years it was the laps I pounded over and over, slowly progressing to the first of many fun runs, triathlons and later half marathons.

It’s the place I go to make sense of the world. When I was completing my teaching degree it was the place I went to get clarity when tackling an assignment or before an exam. During COVID it was where everyone went! Now it’s to form the perfect headline for a piece of writing or dredge up some new ideas for a project.

It’s a regular picnic spot where large groups of us gather for catchups and birthdays – the scene of many annual Purple Picnics beneath the Jacaranda trees. Special occasions, sad occasions and celebratory occasions.

My kids (now adults) knew every low-hanging branch, every nook and what was the best angle to hold your body to get the metal roundabout spinning crazy fast. We had names for the ducks and could recount every batch of cygnets. We rescued many injured birds – trudging through thick mud to do so.

The park is still there and at the time of writing this, in full canopy. In a matter of weeks, 180 trees will be removed. Some of Perth’s oldest and largest Morton Bay Figs and London Plane Trees will no longer exist, the entire ecosystem of the islands in the centre of both lakes will be razed to the ground upsetting the nesting sites and possibly displacing hundreds if not thousands of living things, including ducks, swans, ibis and turtles.

Unfortunately the trees at Hyde Park have fallen victim to our love of travel and nice things. Those nice things are the furniture and wooden artifacts made from untreated wood from south-east Asia. Failure to declare wooden products at customs means the invasive Polyphagous shot-hole borer has managed to sneak in. A tiny beetle (2mm) that bores into tree trunks and eventually starves the tree of water and nourishment from inside. First discovered in Fremantle 18 months ago it has infested trees in some of Perth’s major parks, including Kings Park and the only way to stop the spread is to remove the trees.

There are 900 trees in Hyde Park, and in the time I have spent there I have noted very few new trees planted to replace the dead or removed trees. Gaps appear and then are forgotten about – like when you have a molar removed – after a while you stop noticing the gap. This time, the demise of the trees is no longer gradual , its going to be a full-scale decimation.

Perth has just experienced some of the hottest days on record – day after day of temperatures over 35 degrees starts to take its toll on wildlife and humans. Hyde Park and nearby Mary Street are two of the coolest places to go when the temperature is crazy hot.

Suburbs that previously had adequate tree canopies are now more concrete than ever. Developers continue to rush in and bowl over entire blocks including established trees and gardens only to leave blocks empty for years. Can never understand what the rush is.

Hyde Park as we know it is about to change forever. Now I flinch everytime I hear a chainsaw and get anxious when I see plastic tape around a tree – It won’t be long before thats all we can hear.

Featured

All In A Day #15 – Cruising the Coral Coast WA

A cruisy roadtrip up the Coral Coast to Green Head WA is the perfect minbreak. When combined with a sea lion experience its definitely an adventure worth writing about!

Green Head, home to the Noongar and Yamatji People, is 300 km north of Perth and one of the prettiest coastal towns one could visit this side of Geraldton. Jurien Bay is the home of sea lion tours – we visited this part of the world in the Noongar season of Kambarang when wild flowers are in full bloom.

The road trip is spectacular which ever way you choose to go. The drive up the Indian Ocean Road is stunning but sometimes I head straight up the Brand Highway. This trip, we somehow missed the split where the Tonkin becomes Brand Highway and ended up in Moora on the Bindoon-Moora Road. All roads lead to Green Head!

Wildflowers on the road side, green rolling hills and beautiful farm properties enjoying the last of their green before WA’s long hot summer passes it by. We got there in much the same time with the added bonus of coffee and cakes at the Bindoon Bakehous – delicious! Bindoon is a quirky little town – worth a gander for the great little gift shops and organic shop.

We arrived in Green Head just in time for lunch and settled into our accomodation at the Ocean Break Beach Stay (literally on the beach) right on Dynamite Bay. We decided our legs needed a stretch so we headed to the general store (for stores) to make lunch and then set off to go tramping the coastal paths.

The Three Bays Walk is a bit deceptively named as I am sure I counted in excess of 5 bays! Not one to ever complain about too much of something we continued our stroll.

Undulating hills and contrasting colours of the coastal scrub while the waves crashed, the wind gusted and birds made themselves known. A sensory experience! I kept an eagle eye out for sea eagles but two pelicans catching the wind like a couple of synchronised flyers were the only high flyers I saw that afternoon.

Small beaches accessible by steps delighted us with tiny rock pools inhabitated by crabs and colourful sea weeds. The water holes extend out past the sandy shore to become reefs of aqua blue and cooling greens, so inviting.

The coast in these parts is windy to say the least, especially mid afternoon but we found small nooks and crannies and valleys of dunes to shelter from the wild winds.

Kids swim safely in Dynamite Bay, apparently one of the world’s top 20 beaches. Lovely sheltered bay, but as far as I am concerned any beach at any time is pretty amazing so I’m not sure where they get their stats from?

Wildflowers nestle in the dunes and spring from behind rocks to surprise us with their colours – reds, yellows and pinks.

Later, we wipe the sand from our shoes and sit on the balcony with beers overlooking the top 20 beach in the world – does life get much better than this? The sun slowly covered our balcony with a golden hue and peeked through the cracks in the railings to form long shadows. True holiday vibes where no one, least of all, me is in a hurry.

The aroma of Bali chicken curry wafts up from the cafe downstairs – tonight’s special . Freerange dhufish is also on the menu. What does that mean? Aren’t all dhufish freerange until they’re not? We laugh about the use of freerange as an adjective.

Western Australia is blessed with a certain type of light. Late afternoon is the best time for photos in my opinion. I’m not even a Western Australian yet I feel childhood nostalgia for that light. Is that even possible?

Dinner was delicious – the Bali chicken curry really lived up to its aroma and Anthony’s freerange dhufish was freeranging no more as he sliced it up. We had an early start the next day to go swimming with sea lions so it was off to bed with sandy toes and a sea breeze passing through the windows.

Up early to seek the elusive sea eagle from the balcony – photos on the walls of our accomodation tease me and signs everywhere saying “watch out for sea eagles” I was, believe me! Instead I got a shot of the moon hanging in the early morning sky. The sea looked calmer and the wind had slowed to a puff. Great news for the morning’s activities.

We breakfasted and packed ready for our next adventure – snorkelling with sea lions! We drove the short distance to Jurien Bay and grabbed coffee from the lovely cafe on the beach before making our way to the marina for a 9:45 launch.

On board the vessel we were quickly zipped up into full length wetsuits and on our way to meet some new slippery friends! The boat sped over the clearest blue ocean to reach our final destination – a small island covered in a swath of lazy sea lions who barely raised a flipper let alone their whiskered heads.

There are rules about not approaching the sea lions or stepping foot on the islands and the boat must stay within 30 metres of the shore. So we slipped into the sparkling ocean (which was a tad cold) with snorkels, masks and flippers. Not a fan of flippers, I realised after I had struggled to move in no way that resembled a mermaid or a sea lion!

We didn’t have to wait for long – a curious female returning from breakfast came in to swim around us and sit on the ocean floor. So graceful in the water these beautiful mammals are just like dogs of the sea. According to our well-informed on board marine scientist, Chelsea, the sea lions are pregnant pretty much all the time! They can get pregnant 7 days after giving birth!

Sea Lion facts

  • Australian Sea Lions are endangered and there are only 3400 in the wild in WA
  • Australian Sea Lions are also found in South Australia
  • Sea Lions are Australia’s only native seal
  • they have a gestation period of 18 months and can fall pregnant 7 days after giving birth
  • Sea Lions can weight up to 250kg
  • They are not fussy eaters and will forage for anything including fish, squid, and even the occasional sea gull!
  • Female sea lions are ‘homebodies’ and like to stay in their patch while the males range far and wide and live in ‘bachelor pads’ when the breeding season is over.

45 minutes was all we could spend in the water and during that time another female came and checked us out. We could see the others shifting around on the beach and occasionally sitting in the shallows to cool off. Then it was back on board for hot showers and hot chocolate. Best hot chocolate I have ever tasted! The trip back was quick and before we knew it we were back on land

The trip home we decided to take the Indian Ocean Road as it seemed pretty quiet. A great decision.

What’s the skinny

  • Green Head is around 300 km north of Perth – an easy 3.5 hours drive and you can get there by following the Indian Ocean Road, The Brand Highway or the Moora-Bindoon Road.
  • CentreBreak Beach Stay is a great spot to stay if you want a few creature comforts – they cater to couples, families and singles. The cafe is the town’s only eatery and they do lovely homecooked meals.
  • Green Head Caravan Park is close to the beach and caters to tent camping, vans and caravans.
  • Jurien Bay Oceanic will whisk you away to swim with sea lions – books essential
  • Three Bays Beach Walk is marked by signs and will take you a couple of hours to explore the bays.
Featured

All in a Day # 13 – The Blue Mountains once in a blue moon

A chance visit to Sydney and a trip to the Blue Mountains – my latest All in A Day adventure

When I found myself with three nights to spare on a recent trip to Sydney I decided to head for the mountains and spend some quality time with family in the tiny town of Blackheath – a community with its head in the clouds and its feet firmly anchored in some of the most amazing rocks I have ever come across!

So I boarded a train in Sydney town – Central Station, and settled in for some scenery and a rolling train trip. I had been out partying at a client’s award presentation at the swanky Star Casino the night before (the reason for my trip) so to sit down for a couple of hours was the perfect solution.

When I arrived in Blackheath just over two hours later my neck was sore from looking this way and that. The only time I had ever been into the Blue Mountains was when I was ten years old. My grandfather drove my sister and I to Katoomba where we got out of the car and stood to gawk at the Three Sisters. Then, back in the car for the trek back to Sydney.

My grandfather liked to show us grandkids all the tourist attractions. Bondi in the summer (where he argued with a parking attendant about the exorbitant parking fees – in 1974) the Harbour Bridge (where I remember dropping coins into a bucket for the 1974 Cyclone Tracy victims) the Opera House – looming above and a visit to Luna Park (where I wore a polkadot dress with a Peterpan collar that made me look ill in the hall of mirrors), Warragamba Dam, where we did the entire tour of the inside of the dam wall, and finally Bullens African Lion Safari Park where we sweltered in his small car with all the windows wound up (to prevent lions entering) and no airconditioning. It was like he had a list and he ticked them off one by one.

I remember getting into huge trouble when we got home from the Blue Mountains trip because I had thrown a chunk of chewing gum from the back window and it had stuck on the duco! Hard as a rock. I had to help remove it.

Deidre was at the Blackheath Station to greet me. A long time between visits for both of us, I was looking forward to catching up. We arrived at her small blue home nestled on a hillside surrounded by trees and soft green grass. I breathed in deeply and it felt (or smelt) so familiar even though I had never been there before. Deidre lives in paradise and I couldn’t believe it took me so long to get there. Tasmania is never far from my memories when I find myself in the bush and this reminded me of Tassie.

We lunched and chatted until tiredness overcame me so I snuck off for an afternoon nap in the attic room. A soft single bed with loads of warm doonas and pillows – I drifted off to the sounds of parrots and sulphur crested cockatoos in the back ground, cool mountain air arrived like an unannounced guest through the open window. I could feel it was going to be cold at night.

I woke up and made my way downstairs after putting on some layers and closing the bedroom window, cold indeed. We made plans to go and watch the blue moon rise over Govett’s Leap. It had been magnificent the night before when I caught it hanging over the city.

Deidre filled thermos cups with delicious pumpkin soup. We took spoons and warm clothing and drove to our pitch dark destination. All the makings of a grand adventure.

We sat in the car and sipped on our soup before getting out out to view the rising moon. I had no idea what scenery lay before me as we clutched the rail and looked out into the dark until I visited two days later during the day light hours. Wow! The moon did not disappoint and we stayed to watch it disappear behind a cloud as a young couple howled from the carpark not far from where we stood. Our bones were chilled so we got back into the car to escape the icy air that enveloped us.

A brilliant night’s sleep – warm and comfy and in the bush – my three favourite states of being. The next morning I set off on a solo adventure as Deidre had some work to do. I decided to follow the railway line – certain that the views would be magnificent somewhere. I wasn’t wrong. After 5 km I came across a group of 20 somethings organising their gear to head to the cliffs for some rock climbing.

I chatted to them and they noted my camera. “The views from where we are going are pretty amazing” one of them said, “follow us down if you like.” So I waited while they loaded their bags with carabinas, ropes, snacks and helmets and fell in behind them – piggybacking onto their adventure – as they skipped down the trail with bags the weight of a human body on their backs.

They reached the edge and I took some pics without getting too close to the long drop. They asked it I would take their photo and I said “yes, as long as I don’t have to hang over the edge.” Photos snapped I bid them farewell and made my way back up the slope. Very steep. Once I reached the top I decided that I had satisfied my need for an amazing view and I had a 5km return walk, so I patted my camera and turned back the way I came.

Blackheath is a sweet little town with the usual supermarkets, bakeries and butcher shops you find in those small places. A visit to the local supermarket where the shelves were so close you have to shimmy past others coming from the opposite direction, a great coffee from Altitude Cafe and some vegetable pasties from the local bakery, I was ready to return to Deidre’s for an afternoon of gin and cakes with some of her friends.

A couple of gins in and the sore calves from the mornings trek started to relax. The lovely company of some friendly locals combined with the warmth of the heater and warming drinks made for a super relaxing afternoon. Once everyone left we helped ourselves to another piece of cake and a cup of tea, chatted some more before we headed to bed.

Another good sleep and I was ready for another hike. This time I decided to head back down to Govett’s Leap to see what I could not see the evening I arrived (breathtaking) and then onto the Grand Canyon Hike- a 7 km loop that took me down into the depths of middle earth and back out again.

Extreme steps on the way in meant extreme steps on the way out. I loved every moment of the trail – ferns, trickling water, waterfalls, thick bush, creatures (a snake, a bearded lizard and some sort of a ground dwelling brush bird) It was like paradise. I was not so enamoured of the steep steps on the way out but at least I was prepared for them.

It always amuses me how people forget that what goes down must go up (in this case). I had a conversation with a couple going the opposite way to me and who had just reached the bottom – they told me that there would be a “bit” of steepness on my climb out, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I, on the other hand warned them of the climb they faced at the other end. I believe both ways were equally steep.

By the time I reached the top those calves were singing! I made my way back to the carpark with a full camera (literally ran out of space) and a full heart. And made my way home for a rest and something to eat.

That afternoon we got in the car and set off on another adventure into Katoomba – around 15 minutes drive away to check out the Three Sisters as the sunset. Groups of tourists and families gathered and took photos of one another and themselves- laughing and having fun in the cool soft light.

We then visited the beautiful Carrington Hotel – a grand dame of a hotel with chairs that enveloped us in their lush cushions. I had a Lemoncello cocktail before we headed out to dinner at the local Thai restaurant. I was ravenous after all my extreme exercise. The food was so good.

My final night and more chats before falling into bed – my last night in the mountains. I slept well and woke early before jamming my reluctant clothing back into my (too small) bag. Final coffee and a final chance to chat. Before boarding the train all the way to the airport and on to Perth. I had only been away from home for five nights in total but it felt like so much more.

What’s the skinny?

  • Blackheath is at the highest point of the Blue Mountains – altitude 1065 m (no wonder I felt breathless!)
  • The town is 120 km west of Sydney and you can train there in a couple of hours
  • Katoomba (home of the Three Sisters) is 10 minutes down the road
  • The Carrington is a grand old dame in Katoomba – worth a visit
  • Govetts Leap will take you breath away
  • If you can deal with steep climbs and steps The Grand Canyon hike is amazing
  • Blackheath Bakery Patisserie makes the best vegetable pasties!
  • Rock climbing is very popular in this part of the world.
  • A Blue Moon is not really blue.
  • Visit the Three Sisters at sunset and remember to practice your echo.
  • Bullens African Lion Safari was a thing! Bullen was a circus owner and he made wildlife parks in NSW and Queensland. The NSW park was near Warragamba Dam
  • If you would like to experience Blackheath and you are looking for a lovely room in an AirBnb Deidre is you hostess with the mostest.
Featured

All in A Day #11 – Dwelling on Dwellingup – a ‘cusp of Spring’ Break

All in A Day takes a break from camping to enjoy the luxury of a winter cottage.

Crisp mornings with a dash of sunlight , steam rising from rooftops. Quick – light the fire! Walks through the forest across the road and relaxing on the verandah. Pretty nice way to spend a weekend!

A box fire warms the front room, providing a glow to the cheeks and the cockles of our hearts. What actually is a cockle? Note to self – find out the origins of cockle.

The bush beckons from the front verandah. Glimpses of ravens hopping across the road, glossy wings half extended. Always up to something – no good? Smaller offerings – Flaming Robins, Blue Wrens and New Holland Honeyeaters flit about proving hard to capture (in my lens).

The drive to Dwellingup is delicious – green pastures, random cows and copses of bush. Some flooding from all the recent rain. I stopped in Pinjarra for groceries and lunch. Whisky to make hot toddies as I have lost my voice – three days and counting.

I always feel like I have forgotten something when I am not camping. Camping is simple – grab that box, that crate, that bundle. Airbnb is just throw more and more stuff into the car and slam the door. More than I need and not everything that I need. Unfortunately one of things I grab is a bundle of keys – story about that later.

About my voice, or lack therof. I have been whispering like a creeper for a couple of days. No other symptoms, just no voice. So I sit and listen mostly. Hot toddies with whisky, honey and lemon do nothing but warm those cockles. Oh well, not all bad.

Then, lazy afternoon sun, birds a cacophony (there is no better word) of sound. A stroll to the railway station where historic carriages and diesel engines languish. The Hotham Valley Steam Train must be out steaming up the tracks. High vis enthusiasts tend to the aging trucks and engines. Visions of Sodor.

Backyard hounds strain on chains, their voices harsh with barking. Poor creatures lack stimulation. Pampered city pooches with little room to move are treated like kings and queens compared to these country dogs.

Meals appear at intervals. First breakfast, second breakfast, brunch, snacks, dinner – punctuated with drinks (and cheese).

Then, woken (or shaken awake) at 5:30 am by an earthquake – 5.2 on the scale. My bed felt like someone was trying to get me out of bed. I leapt up to check that everyone had felt the same thing. Some thought vertigo.

Last morning – ice on the car windows. Memories of childhood when ice was a daily occurence, kickstarting the Peugot 404 and casting a bucket of warm water on the windscreen only to have if freeze again as we trundled down the drive heads out of windows like dogs catching the breeze.

A drive down to Lane Poole Reserve to catch the flowing river and go for a final walk through the forest. The river flowing and frothing like a milkshake and the steam still rising from the ground as the sun thaws the ice.

Then, home to unpack and relax. Another superb weekend.

What’s the skinny?

  • Dwellingup is around 1 hour and 15 minutes from Perth
  • We stayed in an AirBnb on the edge of the forest
  • Pinjarra is about 20 minutes away for any major shopping and Dwellingup has a well-stocked IGA, some lovely cafes and a restaurant or two.
  • Lane Poole Reserve is a National Park 20 minutes out of Dwellingup and you can camp there – Bookings essential for most sites.
  • Water sports including kayaking and paddle boarding are popular in this region
  • Mountain Bike trails are everywhere – in the parks and around the town
  • The Dwellingup Hotel (Dwelly Pub) is perfect for a pub meal!
  • Cockles of your heart –dates back to the mid-1600s, a time when scientific texts were often written in Latin. The Latin term cochleae cordis means ventricles of the heart, and most probably, the word cochleae was corrupted as cockles.
Featured

Welcome to All In A Day

Early in 2023 I decided to focus my writing more towards travel and adventure. Travel writing is my passion – it doesn’t even feel like a job!

I also pledged to write an All In A Day piece every couple of weeks – Short adventures and musings that may or may not involve travel. I have loved this challenge and will continue for the forseeable future. Some of these experiences have become paid gigs that have been, or are about to be published in print or online.

While web content and copywriting (sometimes) pays the bills, and I enjoy the lifestyle freelance copywriting has allowed me to have, it doesn’t bring me the same joy of a well-worded travel piece or blog .

With changing economic times and AI thrown into the mix those web content and copywriting gigs have become more scarce. When businesses realise they can’t trust their business brand to AI there may be a turn around. But, until then travel writing has my back.

I hope you enjoy my blog. Unfortunately (or fortunately) if you spend time in my company you may also end up in my stories. I will always do my best to represent you in the shiniest way possible 🙂

What’s the skinny?

  • I will provide links and hints at the end of each blog.
  • The links I have provided are not sponsored, nor am I affiliated with any of the businesses I speak of (unless I say I am)
  • If you want me to write something for you, hit me up – this is my Lisa Ikin Writer hat.
  • I can write anything – web content, social media, blogs, emails…
  • Thanks for reading – you can subscribe and make comments 🙂

Featured

Bular Mial/Bluff Knoll, Stirling Range National Park, Western Australia

Fancy seeing the world from the top? A sunrise hike up one of Western Australia’s highest land forms will not disappoint.

We were up at 3:15 am on a Friday to climb WA’s highest mountain in the South West! Bular Mial/Bluff Knoll stands 1095m above sea level and it is classed as a grade 4 climb of 6.8 km. Bluff Knoll is part of the region in the Stirling Ranges originally inhabited by the Mineng and Goreng people. The mountain is a four hour drive south from Perth on the way to Albany. https://parks.dpaw.wa.gov.au/site/bluff-knoll-car-park-trail-head

The summit of Bluff Knoll at sunrise

The night sky was lit with bright stars and there was no cloud cover to be seen when we strapped ourselves in the car to drive 45 km to the base of Bluff Knoll. We were staying in accommodation at the Karribank Chalets in the Porongurups. A stunning part of the world and a first time visit for my partner and I.

Being around 6 degrees Celsius, we layered our clothing and made sure we had something warm to put on at the summit. Water, a small flask of coffee and some nut bars for sustenance, were jammed into our backpacks. I decided against taking the big camera and opted for my GoPro instead.

The car park was empty – we were the first to arrive! We paid our National Park Fee of $15/car at the Trail head using the automatic machine. This is a requirement of entering the park. Your docket must be displayed on the dash of your car. At 4:16 am we strapped on our head torches and found the beginning of the trail. Apart from the amazing skyscape all we could see was the imposing shape of Bluff Knoll looming above us in the dark.

The beginning of the trail lulls you into a false sense of security as it plunges down into a valley before rising. The paths is well maintained and made up mostly of steps fashioned into the granite rock and box wood construction. It wasn’t long before our glutes were singing and our heart rates pumping. After walking for around 30 minutes the path began it’s spiral around the Knoll. It was still dark so we were relatively unaware of the growing drop to our right.

It wasn’t long before we were warm enough to take off some layers and stop for a quick drink. We could hear another hiking group not far behind us and this spurred us on to keep going. Nothing like a bit of competition to inspire you!

Sunrise was supposed to be around 5:33 am and we started to see a change in the available light. The looming Knoll was very imposing. We also realised the sun was rising behind us so we quickened our steps to reach the summit in time. When the sun started to come up over the horizon we had reached a point on the climb where we could see the orange glow lighting up the peak. Perfect timing!

At 6:16 am we reached the actual summit, which is a bit further than you first think. Breathtaking! Our hiking competition arrived around 10 minutes behind us so we had the summit to our selves for the shortest time.

We were poised above the low cloud cover which made the view even more spectacular. There was not a breath of wind but it was certainly cold. Our layers were quickly relayered, coffee poured and we sat on top of the world looking down on some of the most beautiful country in the world.

Unable to bring myself to stand close to the edge like some of the young climbers who seemed hell bent on getting the most crazy Instagram photo they could, I lay down and peered over. Took my breath away. Sheer rock face all the way down. A sign warned us not to throw rocks off the edge as rock climbers could be below.

Once we had taken our photos and rested for a while we decided to head on down to see what scenery we had missed on our dark ascent. They say that “coming down is the hardest thing”, to borrow a song line from Tom Petty, and I must say my calves and knees are certainly paying the price 3 days later.

This climb is one I have always wanted to do and I was not disappointed. Come prepared, wear appropriate footwear and clothing in case of extreme weather on the summit. I used a stick that a previous hiker had kindly left by the beginning of the trail, and I would recommend walking poles especially on the way down.

If you love hiking and climbing the Porongurups are around 30 minutes away and boast amazing granite peaks with a number of climbs. We climbed up to Castle Rock and the Granite Skywalk which was well worth the walk. https://parks.dpaw.wa.gov.au/park/porongurup

SUPing Around

Welcome to my first newsletter.  You are here because you paddle or are paddle-curious. Or maybe you just thought SUP has something to do with food or drink? I will try to satisfy all comers. Perhaps there are recipes we can share 🙂

I recently did a round up of some of my favourite standup paddle locations around Perth so I thought I would start with those.  These are not the only places you can paddle in Western Australia; we are very lucky to have so many spots to splash, and I will continue to review and add places to paddle in future issues.

Claughton Reserve, Bayswater

Looking for a sheltered upriver paddle location. Claughton Reserve in Katanning Street, Bayswater is one of my favourite SUP launch spots. 

💦there’s heaps of parking

💦a toilet block (in fact one of the funkiest toilet blocks I have ever seen!)

💦water fountains for filling your water bottle

💦easy to get in and out of the water

💦coffee stop at Ascot Kayak Club on weekends

It’s a great place to explore up or down the river depending on the winds.  A nice short paddle from there is up river and around Ron Courtney Island.

Ocean Paddling Perth

Perth’s southern beaches; Leighton, South Beach & Coogee Beach are wonderful when the conditions are right.  It’s knowing when the conditions are right that is the tricky part.

As with most outdoor activities in Perth I always go out in the mornings – the earlier the better.

In the Summer months from November to March the morning winds are more likely to be offshore (Easterly) and light.  Once the Freo Doctor comes in it’s too late and too windy. 

Use weather apps such as:

Willy Weather

Seabreeze

BOM

Windy.com

Not only is getting up early to paddle good for getting the right or no winds, but also to avoid the hottest part of the day.

Perth’s southern beaches:

💦are easy to get to

💦have free parking – but can be busy the later you arrive (see, getting up early has other benefits!)

💦have great cafes

💦have showers and changerooms

💦you can sometimes see dolphins, whales & sealions

💦North Coogee has the Omeo Wreck – great for SUPing around but also a very popular snorkelling spot. Pack your gear!

Go with a group or a buddy if you are a first timer on the ocean, ALWAYS use a leg leash and don’t go out further than you are comfortable with.   Be prepared to get wet and HAVE FUN!

Point Walter Reserve Bicton

You can paddle down river from the Point Walter sandbar, up past the cliffs at Blackwall Reach. Depending on the wind it can be quite sheltered through there.

Keep paddling down to Bicton Baths  and turn around or alternatively (depending on wind) do the reverse.

Handy tip: always paddle into the wind on the way out so you get a free ride on your return. It makes a difference

💦parking is usually available closeby  and if it’s not you can drop and park.

💦there’s  a great cafe at Point Walter

💦the scenery is amazing along Blackwall Reach

💦dolphins also love this part of the river

Freshwater Bay, Peppermint Grove

Freshwater Bay in Peppermint Grove is a beautiful spot to get out on the water. There’s usually sheltered waters close to the shore for those venturing out for the first time. Or for the more adventurous, a paddle along the cliff’s edge to the yacht club is a lovely paddle. Dolphins 🐬 are common in this area.

💦the water is clear

💦the shore easy to access

💦parking not usually a problem

💦 cafe close by for coffee and snacks

Some links to previous articles and websites of interest:

Top Water Activities in Perth to Try Today
Choosing the Right Waterproof Bag: Tips and Reviews
Avon Descent Paddle Challenge 2019
All In A Day #14 – Sealion the deal

Interested in racing and SUP events including the SUP Loop check out Perth’s SUP body SUPWA https://supwa.tidyhq.com/

Next newsletter: Kent Street Weir, Maylands Breakfast Paddle, Heirisson Island, Matilda Bay

Goomalling & Biosphere Boodja 2025

Giant whales drifting through wheat fields and wheat silos used as a backdrop for magical projections. What an incredible weekend of art and community in Goomalling!

A whale in a wheat field, a parade of delightful ceramic echidnas as far as the eye could see, fresh crop circles that may or may not have been created by aliens, and some of the finest humans in the biosphere all gathered one long weekend in September in a tiny country town where not much usually happens. The Biosphere Boodja Arts and Wild Things Festival in Goomalling has just happened and I was lucky enough to be there!

The tiny wheatbelt town of Goomalling was the locus for this incredible happening, or ‘creative uprising’. It was the brainchild of Internationally acclaimed Perth ceramic artist and the festival’s creative art director, Fleur Schell, who was born in the wheatbelt town of Goomalling.  

She had a dream, or perhaps more of a vision, that she brought to life with some funding from Lottery West, major sponsors, private donors and the local community. Collaborating closely with Ballardong Nyungar Elder Tracy De Grussa and with the local community including primary school children from the two small primary schools in the town and with the Goomalling Op Shop behind her, Goomalling definitely had a happening! 

The small town of Goomalling is under two hours northeast of Perth in the Avon Valley and the Western  Australian wheatbelt.  Like all wheatbelt towns, it’s all about the wheat and it’s the enormous grain storage domes that immediately grab your attention when you drive into town that formed part of Fleur’s vision for the Biosphere Boodja Festival.

The giant spherical silos are pure white and look like something you may find on Mars if the future of life in space ever comes to fruition. When Fleur was a child they were really buried dinosaur eggs. They were also the perfect canvas for the incredible Totem Story projections that were cast that Sunday evening.

As a clay artist Fleur saw an opportunity to invite visiting ceramicists in Perth for ‘Wedge 2025: The Australian Ceramics Triennale in Fremantle’ scheduled for the following weekend in Fremantle.  Clay play and ceramics with clay provided by Midland Brick, formed a  large part of the festival and the workshops available for festival goers. Throw in some of Perth’s premier musos, a sculpture exhibition in a wheat field, some dancing, yoga and a giant puppet parade and the experience was out of this world. 

The festival was free to those who attended ; There were different camping options including glamping and family camping areas. We paid for bush camping on the decidedly rustic golf course.  It was close to everything, including a million mosquitoes.  

I’m a Tassie girl who grew up in isolated places and went to high school in a small country town so I have a thing for small country towns.  While Western Australian wheatbelt towns are a far cry from the lush farming towns in Tasmania there is an essence that spans all country towns and ties them together. That essence is isolation and community.

For me, wheatbelt towns are not comfortably accessible all year round due to the extreme temperatures in summer. Not to someone who likes to spend time outdoors and camping anyways, so I try to get out there as much as I can during the cooler months.  There is something magical about wide open spaces, random granite rocks and wheat silos.

This trip was my second foray into the wheatbelt this year; a couple of months prior I went and spent a day and night hanging in the Granite Way at Kwolyin Camp ground and Kokerbin Rock, one of my favourite places to explore.  There really is nowhere better for star gazing!

So when Biosphere Boodja came up on my radar, I jumped at the chance, found a festival buddy and headed back into that wheat belt that I just can’t get enough of.

The drive out was ethereal; green wheat fields on either side and the fading flowers of the remaining canola, almost finished flowering.  As drifted into towns surrounded by modest hills incredible mists filled the valleys. It was all I could do not to pull over every 10 minutes to take photos.

When I reached Goomalling at 8:30 that morning (yes I had got up very early to leave) I was the first bush camper to roll in and register. We were camping on the golf course and being a dry wheat belt town the golf green was not how you imagine a green in the big city. Nevertheless, they wanted to protect their fairway so we camped in the bush on the side of the daisy-covered fairway with about 10 million mosquitoes. 

The town volunteers were all incredibly friendly. They popped me down at the end so I could drive out easily the next day and they saved a space for my friend Elaine who had a rooftop tent. Turns out we were first to arrive and last to leave. That’s how we roll.

I set up camp and Elaine arrived via the Goomalling Op Shop with a trawl of treasures and set up her rooftop, then we set off to explore the town.  Right next to the golf course was the wheat field ‘crop circle’ exhibition – literally a wheat field with cleared paths and some incredible sculptural art works, including Fleur Schell’s ‘Wheat Whale’.  So we diverted into the field.

The sun was up and the wheat swayed in the soft breeze; quite magical.  Next we wandered to the markets and the main oval to see where we could expect to be based for the next couple of days.  The markets were a collection of local artists stalls.  I made a few small purchases, including a cap printed by a young girl who had created a selection of t-shirts and hats with her designs.  

With eats never far from my mind I was happy to note a variety of food trucks and a couple of bars set up on the oval, and we soon found the stage which would be the centre of our weekend escapades, when we weren’t having a drink in the Boodja Bar or the bowls club. I was excited.

We settled in for Aunty Tracy’s Welcome to Country and a string of fabulous Western Australian bands including Lucy Peach and some incredible acts from the area.  

The rest of the day was spent wandering about checking out the workshops all facilitated in huge white dome tents not unlike the wheat silos, and pausing for drinks from the comfortable Boodja Bar with Op Shop chairs and cushions, to the Goomalling Bowling Club bar. The rain came but it wasn’t the soaking type so we stayed mostly dry.  

We decided a final visit to the town Op Shop was in order, seeing as I hadn’t been yet, and headed into the wide streets of Goomalling for another walk about.  The Op Shop was on the main street, just past the hotel, the post office and Bendigo Bank, and it was heaving!  Most of the good stuff had been bought up by the bargain-hungry visitors.  The Op Shop manager was very happy with her day’s takings declaring it ‘the best day of takings she had ever had.’  

I found nothing but enjoyed the browse before we went back to camp to prepare our clothing for the coming evening.  Back for another drink or two at the Bowls Club before the children and festival goers began congregating for the puppet parade and song performance by the children.

What followed brought me to tears!  The giant paper mache whale and Koomal possum that we had seen sheltered in the tent earlier that day came to life with lights and a group of young people moving their parts as they circled the area in front of the stage accompanied by a drumming group. The children sang a song about the disappearance of the Koomal possum, written by Fleur and then we all set off towards the silos as the sun set and darkness fell. 

There was a real sense of being part of something so unique and important as we all stopped in front of the silos and all the lights were extinguished.  The Totem Story projected onto those crazy dinosaur eggs and narrated by Aunty Tracy and children was just incredible.  

Totem Stories on Goomalling wheat silos

When it finished we all strolled slowly back into town feeling like we had been part of something beautiful.  It was clear how much work had gone into every part of the weekend from the involvement of the local schools in the incredible art projects to the local businesses and volunteers who made it all possible.

The remainder of the evening was spent having food and listening to the music by local and Western Australian acts; finishing on a funky note with a boogie to Odette Mercy and the Soul Atomics before we stumbled back to our golf course camp for sleep.

I was woken at 5:00 am by the sound of the hot air balloon that had been sitting on the oval the day before,  being inflated on the oval for a sunrise flight;  the steady hum of the generator and then the huge huffing sounds of the flame being shot into the full balloon.  I just had to get a photo so I braved the mossies and got to the railway line as it lifted into the cloudy skies.  I got my pics and climbed back into bed for another hour.

Day two started with a sausage sizzle right outside our tents as the local P & C cooked us up a meaty breakfast of sausages, onions and sauce (onions and sauce for the vegetarians).  I scoffed down a sausage but Elaine passed on the onion in a bun.  So we dressed and headed into town.  It was pretty chill as we found coffee and a space on the grass for the remaining acts.  The festival ended with the Rose Parker Trio and a whole lot of thank yous and congratulations.

As we walked back to our cars, the only two left on the golf course, we reflected on our experience and decided it was one of the best weekends we could have had. Thank you to everyone who made it happen.

Failing to retrieve the past; or retrieving the failed past

A tale of pawn shops, antique cameras and regret

Pawn shop blues

I had an antique German camera circa 1956. My dad gave it to me when I was 13; it was beautiful. It had a brown leather case scuffed at the corners, and a short handstrap; the aluminium body shell was cool to the touch, it was in perfect nick. I treasured that camera because it had been Dad’s and then it was mine.

Over the years I have amassed a small arsenal of cameras; always within reach, always ready for a quick draw. Each one poised to capture fleeting moments, little tableau vivants frozen in time, saved for later.

I hoard these fragments like a clever corvid, stashing them away in digital caches, waiting to be rediscovered. But sometimes, the sheer volume of stored memories overwhelms me. So many moments scattered across virtual vaults, buried in folders, clouds, drives.

There was simplicity in the old ways; sliding prints into a drawer, arranging them in photo albums behind plastic that held your memories behind static and photo mounts, or clicking through dusty slides in a carousel at family gatherings, onto a white bedsheet.

Honestly? Screw the cloud.

Tell those friends with cameras for eyes
That their hands don’t make me hang
They only make me feel like breathing
In an unguarded moment.

Michelle Parker / Stephen Kilbey

Photography was once all about fitting a black and white Kodak film into the back of a camera and slotting it into place, carefully lining up the film onto the sprockets and slowly closing the back with a satisfying click. I loved winding the film on to the first frame; it filled me with delicious anticipation every time. What could I capture on this fine roll of cellulose acetate?

My first film installed in my German camera when I was 13, took an age to reach the final frame. Only 12 exposures, but each one was carefully considered. Composition, light, F stops just right. Press my finger down on the shutter button, click! Wind on.

My first reel was shot on a holiday camp for children who did remote correspondence schooling. A bunch of teens from farflung outposts, lighthouses, and remote locations throughout Tasmania. It was a strange and isolating experience for me which was odd because for the first time in years I was with children my age. The photos are of the girls who I made friends with, posing awkwardly on the beach.

I loved photography. I took the elective twice in high school and later when I was in my final year at Nightcliff High in Darwin I completed a week’s work experience at the male dominated bastion that was the NT News. It was a newspaper worthy only of lining a birdcage, but I was given free rein with all their camera equipment and the dark room. They sent me out on ‘assignment’ and I spent the week roaming the streets of Darwin photographing visiting sailors and points of interest. One of the best weeks of my life. Although looking back I think they just wanted me out of their hair. Pesky work experience kid, and a GIRL at that.

Pesky Work experience kid – yes, that is a bullet around my neck!

I was lucky growing up because I also had the means to process my own film. For a time, my arty creative family had a dark room that doubled as a laundry ; knock before you enter. The smell of developing fluid, the sticky photographic paper immersed in solution as you push it back and forth to get maximum coverage. Pegs to pin the drying photos. The red light.

I carried that German camera everywhere. When I fled Darwin to check out the ‘big ol’ city’ of Perth I was 20 years old. All I had was my pale green Toyota Corolla, some jewellery that belonged to my dead mother, a couple of suit cases of clothes, my dog ‘Odie’, and my camera with the brown leather case.

I had no feelings for the jewellery and pawned it within a week of arriving in Perth. I never retrieved it, I should have. There’s a whole lot of unresolved trauma behind this that I won’t go into here and now.

I had already secured a fulltime job with a West Perth accountant but had four long weeks before the job started. I was living on the bones of my bum, in a share house with three of the strangest men I’d ever met. The home owner, an alcoholic bank manager who tried to get me into bed every weekend, a wheatbelt butcher named Brad, as country as they come, and a batshit crazy skydiver who jumped out of planes every weekend, as warped as they come. We all had dogs. It was ridiculous. I got out of there not long after I started my fulltime job.

Anyway, I was skint and the only things I had of any value were my car which I needed to get to work, eventually, and my brown case camera. I was not one to ask my family for money; I was fiercely independent. So I took that heirloom to a pawn shop with the intention of lending against it and retrieving it later. I think anyone who has ever pawned anything has the same intention. It was the first of many interactions I would have with the shady world of pawn shops over my lifetime.

Before Cash Converters went chainstore slick, pawn shops of the ’80s were shady backstreet dens, usually run by middle-aged men with foggy glasses and halitosis. Cash Converters started in Perth in 1984 as just one grimy shop, not the franchise juggernaut it later became. By 1990, its expansion across Australia somehow turned the once shameful act of pawning Gran’s wedding ring into something you could do between grocery runs. Respectable seeming ads helped remove the shame of being broke, until ID checks were insisted on, revealing most of the goods were stolen. Who’d have guessed?

I think I got a miniscule $50 for it. $50 was enough to keep me going until I received my first ever dole cheque. Yes, in those days it was a dole cheque, you cashed them at the bank. I was on the dole for four weeks and in that time I did what every other person on the dole was doing in Perth and hung out at Scarborough Beach. Sun, sand and salt were my regular companions.

But, I never did go back to pick up my camera, not even after I started work. I was playing catch up with rent, new work clothes and food, and with the interest mounting on my pawned items, suddenly it was too late. The brown case camera from Germany, that belonged to my Dad was gone. The jewellery that belonged to my mum was gone. I have regretted losing that camera ever since.

So over the years I’ve kept an eye on camera sales websites, Facebook pages and Marketplace. They come up but they have all looked worst for wear. One Sunday I was browsing Marketplace and I saw one for sale in a suburb close to mine. It had been sitting in the owners’ storage for decades. The lense unscratched, if a bit dirty. But Zeiss lenses are the best and if they have not been scratched they will come up fine with a clean.

I jumped in my car and drove like a mad person through an electrical storm, torrential rain and hail. The camera was perfect and appeared to be in excellent condition; the model was not the same as my old one. It’s a Zeiss Ikon Contessa with a quality Tessar lens. So I handed over my cash and spirited it home for cleaning and love. I know it doesnt go anywhere near replacing the one I pawned but it looks and feels the same; a satisfying weight, the aluminium cool to the touch and the brown leather case is scuffed in all the right places.

*EDIT

Here are the first photos from my new camera. I am beyond pleased!

Discovering the Beauty and History of Faro, Portugal

On the beautiful Atlantic Ocean coast sits the small town of Faro; a town of contrasts and the best piri piri chicken in Algarve

Where possible. I always prefer train travel when exploring Europe. I’ve done the hire car thing a few times but find it stressful; trying to park, paying for parking and the whole ‘driving on the wrong side of the road’ business. I love a slow-travel experience, the downtime for writing and reading, and just watching the landscape speed past. Olive trees, grape vines, and Tassie blue gums swishing past in a swirl of muted greens. Hay stacks, cows and sunshine! All while sipping a cold Estrella and gnawing on some jamon and kicking back. It’s the summer daydreams are made of.

Pastel de nata always on the menu
Time for a bit of writing

On a recent trip to Spain and Portugal, I set the itinerary to the train timetable and chose stopovers according to their ease of access to train stations, connections, and points of interest. Being our first trip to Portugal, we planned to visit the major cities of Porto and Lisboa, but as I’m ever the bird nerd and nature-nut, I also wanted to hang with the birds and lose myself in wilderness.

Sunset on the first night in Faro – bloody stunning!

For the Algarve part of our trip, we chose Faro. Firstly because it was a single two-hour train journey from Lisboa. Two hours being the optimum time for train relaxation and people watching. Faro, or Cidade de Faro is the southern most city and capital of the district of Faro. It forms part of the Algarve region and from my research had some interesting historical points.

The area was known as Ossonoba in the 4th Century BC and it was the most important urban centre of southern Portugal; a commercial port for agricultural products, fish, and minerals. Later came the Romans, then the Byzantines, and then the Visigoths, before the area was conquered by the Arabic-speaking Muslims known as Moors in 713.

From the third century onwards and during the Visigothic period, it was the site of an Episcopal see, the Ancient Diocese of Ossonoba (306-688). The Byzantine built the towers of the city walls during the Byzantine period. Following 500 years of Moorish rule the Moors were defeated and expelled in 1249 by the forces of the Portuguese King Afonso III. The rest they say, is history and a very rich one it is!

It’s also right on the shores of nature-lovers Parque Natural da Ria Formosa. The Ria Formosa (Beautiful Estuary) is an estuary park of natural canals, islands, marsh lands and sandy beaches. The park extends 60 km along the coast. It’s home to a diverse range of flora and fauna, including hundreds of species of birds, marine mammals and shellfish.

My first impression of Faro the town on the short taxi trip from the train station to our accommodation? I had an instant and overwhelming urge to get back on the train and continue to the more popular tourist destination of Lagos. I had my phone out searching for train fares to Lagos before I had even given Faro half a chance.  Which is not like me at all to have such a visceral reaction to a place.

Abandoned buildings

Like many towns and cities in Portugal old buildings in Faro are in a state of decay and because Faro is a small town/city it was shocking that such a large proportion were in ruins and not just one or two buildings in a street. Entire streets of buildings had been consumed by graffiti and were turning to rubble; centuries old and now irreparable. Quite beautiful in a warzone kind of way.

When I spoke to one of the locals about this later, he said despite there being an accommodation crisis in Portugal, houses fall into disrepair when the older generations pass, and their children and grandchildren don’t have the money or the will to restore or maintain the ancient buildings. Some of them are also owned by the state who also have no intention to restore them. Portugal has some grand architecture and it’s sad to see it so bereft.

Lemon Tree Stay
Breakfast included

Once my partner and I settled into our gorgeous accommodation, Lemon Tree Stay, a cosy bed and breakfast surrounded by tumbling down structures on all sides, we went to explore. The old town is fortressed by the obligatory ancient stone fortress walls and paved with beautiful mosaics. The paved streets took us away from the decay of the abandoned buildings and I could see Faro had another side. A side where wealthy American and European tourists could dine out and shop at high-end shops. Such contrast.

What we discovered over the days we spent in Faro was a town of beauty, history and contrasts catering to a range of tourism styles from the tourist seeking Michelin star restaurants and oysters by the sea, to the tourist seeking small bars and churrascarias (local grill restaurants) and a more authentic experience where locals hang out. It was in the back streets that we eventually discovered the most amazing piri piri chicken. The old buildings and churches including the macabre Capela dos Ossos (Bones Chapel) are worth a look. Most restaurants in this part of the town cater to seafood lovers.  

António Ramos Rosa  – Faro poet
Pina Coladas
Fishing shack on the beach
Jacarandas in full bloom

For our first meal, my partner and I found a local bar where we ordered a plate of mussels, cheese and olives. The Casa da Ginja Bar in Faro is the place to try the local cherry liquor, Ginja, a sweet drop served in a small dark chocolate cup to be eaten after you have drained it. So we decided it was mandatory to have one to start with and then one to finish. It certainly put a warm glow on my initial impression of the town.

Cas da Ginja

Following our feast and warmed by the Ginja I canceled the hastily booked train tickets to Lagos, and we decided to give the town a chance and explore as far and as wide as we could.  We were not disappointed.

I knew the Ria Formosa Natural Park was right on our doorstop so I booked an eco-tour on a solar powered boat the next day to go birdwatching and get out to the beach which is not immediately accessible to Faro – there was some legwork and a boat ride required to get there. The morning of our boat trip we woke to drizzling rain, not ideal for birdwatching or beach combing, but I was excited to get into nature after spending the last eight days in the big cities of Porto and Lisbon. So, we packed some delicious tuna empanadas from the local supermarket, the obligatory tarts and some drinks for our four hour adventure.

Faro is the site of one of the largest international airports in Portugal so it was not absolutely peaceful out on the water with a constant stream of planes taking off and landing right overhead. I got the feeling our guide was not a fan of the airport traffic but he was being very diplomatic about it. Consequently we got some pretty crazy views of the big metal birds. A great spot for plane spotters! 

We were lucky to be only two of three passengers on our eco boat. Us two and a lovely German tourist in Faro for a long weekend. Our knowledgeable guide, a lovely local man who had a passion for birds and the region, kitted us out in life jackets and gave us a set of binoculars before firing up the silent motor. We noted the cloud cover hadn’t cleared, but adventure was afoot and the weather waits for no one! 

We didn’t have to glide too far before our guide pointed out our first bird, a white heron striding across the flats followed by a gull or two. We zoomed in close to the muddy islands where fiddler crabs waved their white claws at the boat almost like they expected to be rescued. Our guide informed us that locals harvest the claws from these crabs but not to worry because they regenerate! I wondered why the crabs haven’t learned to stop waving their tasty claws around. The Ria Formosa is a salt marsh affected by extreme tides. The hardy salt-tolerant Sarcocornia perennis disappears under water at high tide and emerges again into a soft island-like landscape.

Oyster buoys were scattered throughout the area, but our guide informed us that Portuguese don’t eat oysters as they can’t afford them and the ones we could see were grown by the French for French restaurants and general consumption. “And why are they grown in Portugal and not France?” He asked us. I jokingly replied “because Portuguese water is better” and he nodded his head sagely. But of course.

The birds appeared from all angles now. We saw a pair of Shell Ducks with 12 ducklings struggling against the swiftly turning tide; a black beaked gull (our guide was super excited about this one) and some swooping little terns catching fish. As we reached the quiet beach with golden sand and dunes covered in grasses and plants, our guide said he would leave us here for 50 minutes so we could explore and hopefully see nesting terns. He warned us to stay well back from nesting birds. The water was cold as we stepped off and despite my resolve to swim in the vast North Atlantic Ocean, I settled for cool toes and the soothing feel of course sand beneath my feet.

As a beach lover, this part of the trip really floated my boat. I am always happy with the wind in my hair and the sand underfoot. We found the nesting terns and viewed them from a distance as they wheeled and swooped. I stopped and took photos of the unusual dune plants before we turned to make our way back to the boat. Just before we got back to our craft, I sighted a small Kentish plover on the dunes and quickly snapped some shots. Our guide who had stayed back to have his lunch was impressed that we had found another species without his local knowledge.

The return trip was very different. By this stage, the tide had turned and all the green ‘islands’ we wove through on our way out had disappeared under water. So too the unsightly plastic oyster buoys. The current pulled us back to shore as our guide continued to point out species of birds. He informed us we wouldn’t be able to disembark in the same spot we boarded because the bridge we came under was now too low for our boat to pass. So we headed back to a jetty on the outside of the mariner.  

Before we disembarked, our guide informed us that despite the cloud cover, we had exceeded expectations and had a very good day of bird spotting with 16 species seen in all. I was happy with the morning’s bird sightings because as all birdwatchers know, sometimes you see many birds, sometimes you see none. My only regret was not seeing the flamingos that live a little further around the coast. It looks like I may just have to return.

Camino signs are everywhere

We spent the rest of the day exploring the parts of Faro we had not yet explored. We found a big park with some exhibitionist peacocks all vying for some disinterested female peahen’s attention. We were impressed though. We also visited the local library where famous Faro poet, António Ramos Rosa (1924 – 2013) is featured in a small exhibition of his works and a mural of his face. He was very much a revolutionary who was once arrested for his beliefs and the part he played in the forming of the movement Movimento de Unidade Democrática.

Later that evening we went off in search of piri piri chicken, a dish that tourism guides had informed us was a speciality in this region. We left the paved streets of the ‘old town’ and set forth into the back streets to find a grill restaurant. Turns out we didn’t have to stray far and our noses were correct in picking up the delicious smell of grilled chicken at the popular Churrasqueira O Recife. We had a meal like no other – two generous serves of spicy chicken with fresh salad and fries, all washed down with a huge mug of beer. The constant stream of people including the local cops who came to pick up takeaway and dine at the grill, along with the local cats and pigeons kept us entertained.

Piri piri chicken

When we left Faro the following morning to go Entroncamento via Lisbon, before we headed back over the border into Spain, we were sad to leave because despite first impressions this town had grown on us and I will ever remember it as Faro-dise! 

Choosing the Right Waterproof Bag: Tips and Reviews

Dry bags for wet situations! A look at ways to keep your stuff dry when on the water.

I have used all types of waterproof bags in my paddling life. As a rower, kayaker and SUPer I have worked my way through dry bags, phone cases and plastic bags. I’ve tried waist clips, shoulder clips, board clips and a string around my neck. I have more dry bags than handbags.

Of course it will always be up to personal choice and comfort so there is no perfect solution for everyone. The perfect solution is the one that works for you.

Dry Bags

The good old dry bag is a sure thing. It’s purpose built to keep your stuff dry, and provided you fold the top over correctly (at least 3 times) it will work. I use a dry bag to carry things on my board because I have straps that I can clip onto.

Who doesn’t love an Aldi bargain?

You can buy affordable dry bags anywhere. My faves are a set I got from ‘the aisle of dreams’ at Aldi. I also have bags from Sea to Summit which are more lightweight but just as effective. I have used the heavy-duty bags from Red Equipment – the 30L Waterproof Roll Top Dry Bag Backpack is great for using on your board or on your back.

Dry bags all the way when on the ocean!

Phone Cases & Bags

Since the dawn of the smart phone we have been seeking ways to protect them from getting wet, getting cracks, or getting lost!

Like everyone, I have purchased every new phone case known to woman. I had a great one that used to clip around my waist but the seal eventually gave up the ghost and I resorted to dry bags.

New Equipment

Which brings me to my latest piece of Red Equipment. I recently trialed on my SUP board and while out hiking, the Lightweight Waterproof Crossbody Bag 7L.

Disclaimer: I am an affiliate for Red Equipment but this doesn’t influence my opinions. While I believe in their products, my reviews are my opinions only.

This 7L bag is the ideal size for carrying your phone, keys and a piece of clothing. I carried my lightweight puffer jacket, phone, snack, keys and glasses on my latest hike. I used it as a crossbody bag for a while, before changing it to my waist. I found the waist placement much more comfortable and easier to access.

When I carried it on my SUP board last weekend I used it as a crossbody bag which was better than I thought. I had thought it would get in the way of the paddle but it was snug enough to keep out of the way. In future I will use it on my waist as that is my preference.

I persevered with using it in the crossbody style because that’s what it’s marketed as. It is better as a waist or shoulder bag in my opinion.

The bag does have a separate zip pocket inside for your phone and keys which would keep them dry, but I’m not convinced that your other gear would stay dry if fully immersed in water for any length of time. It has the roll down top used on dry bags which works better the more you put in the bag (if that makes sense).

I am an experienced paddler so falling in is not (usually) on the cards for me (if I chose not to) so I feel comfortable using this bag to protect my gear.

Were I to be out on the ocean or in a situation where falling in was a certainty, I would probably opt for a dry bag on my board or extra protection within the Red bag.

The bag itself is a nice looking bag and it comes in three different colours. It has an adjustable crossbody/waist/shoulder strap, and outside zip pocket, straps for bike handlebars and an external bungee system for extra items.

It is hardy and feels like it would survive almost anything I could throw at it or in it. This bag retails for $78.95 – if you use my link you get 15% discount.

So I guess it’s dry bags all the way for me on the water. They are good in most circumstances due to their reliability and cost. If ,like me, you love a good ‘fanny pack’ , ‘bum bag’ or whatever you call them, the RED Equipment Waterproof Crossbody bag is a pretty cool addition to your bag wardrobe.

Lighthouse Kid – Lisa Ikin

Living on the lighthouses was sort of like that TV show, ‘Round the Twist’ in more ways than you think!

Forty South Tasmania

When I finished my 3-day Three Capes Track hiking experience earlier this year I realised after pitching to many publications that I probably needed to tell this story in the land it was set. So the lovely people at Forty South Magazine, a magazine I have long admired and read, took me up on my offer of tourism travel blog with a side of memoir. Enjoy 🙂

I have scanned the magazine as best I could.

Forty South Tasmania – Lighthouse Kid Lisa IkinDownload

Melbourne for a Moment

I haven’t visited Melbourne since before covid. Last week I spent three nights in Melbourne town. This is just one of those three days.

I woke to daylight at 6:48 am but realised it’s 3:48 Perth time and probably the usual time I wake and can’t get back to sleep anyway! Can’t sleep anymore but know from the gritty feeling behind my lids that I have a sleep deficit.

I raise the hotel room curtain to grey skies and unruly corvids prowling window ledges eight stories up. Below is a playground, but not far below – a childcare centre, a school? Five stories up – fake lawn, a sand pit and a bitumen bike track for toddlers. Rooftop recreation in the CBD.

People stir in the building adjacent – accommodation of some sort, old school box airconditioning jammed into window frames. A building that defies logic looms above – S Shaped glass construction. People on their way to work/breakfast stroll the street below.

We sit above the tops of London Plane Trees stretching to reach the light between narrow passages in this concrete jungle. The ubiquitous pigeons swoop and land, experts in city navigation and finding scraps.

I head out for a walk, leaving my partner softly snoring. A sign shouts ‘Best Steak Sandwich in Melbourne’ and workers in high-vis sip coffee from takeaway cups and scoff toasties chatting about Netflix and the night before.

Clique nightclub is still open and it’s now 7:30 am. Punters tumble out into the bright light drunken and dazed.

The bouncer gives me a resigned look as he clips the red velvet rope back into place after searching someone who wants to enter. Concealed weapons? I love that a red velvet rope has so much power.

The streets are mostly empty but for some joggers and young families with early rising children. Rowers in an eight glide across the Yarra leaving swirls where their oars have swept through the water. Street sweepers sweep streets after last night’s Christmas crowd at the Crown. Rough sleepers still asleep on benches and the hard ground.

The 24/7 gym on the river front looks sleepy – no one working out this morning. Birds flit in and around urban parks and gardens seeking insects and croissant crumbs in equal measure. The sun catches windows and highlights street signs as the city wakes. Has it even been to sleep?

Later…

Family get together – early Christmas lunch/birthday celebrations. A Christmas spread washed down with prosecco and homemade cakes. Eat fit to bursting and relax on recliners catching up with my expanded family, while the Bengal cat darts between furnishings avoiding the sticky hands of a 4 year old.

Later still…

Plans to head into the night and find some music. Live music, beers and dancing is on the agenda. An espresso martini is agreed upon as a necessary plan of action to combat the food coma.

A long tram ride through affluent Melbourne suburbia into the city for a quick change in our Stanley Kubrick inspired hotel – red corridors and doors seemingly streaked with blood. On closer examination I think it is supposed to be theatre curtains – badly drawn in both senses of the word.

Train to Brunswick following hasty espresso martini in the hotel lobby. The Union Hotel is an old-school inner city pub that still has live music – free entry. People spill onto the street and the waft of beer and hot chips escapes from the door. Dark inside even though it’s still daylight (saving) outside. We find a large square table in the lounge.

Checkerboard Lounge is setting up on the small stage, drum kit, Hammond Organ and steel guitar. Bass is yet to arrive. We order our first round of pots of beer, cold and frothy. A bowl of chips and zucchini fritters – though god knows we don’t need food!

The band sound checks, clattering drums and guitar riffs, silencing the 80s soundtrack playing in the background. ‘Twang’ – take that Hall and Oats, ‘Thump thump crash!’ no more Abba and sickly sweet nostalgia.

The chips arrive and despite a full stomach I can’t resist a taste – just the right salty oily taste.

My sister declares them the BEST she’s ever had, but maybe it’s like that declaration I heard a long time ago about live music, that at any given time any band can be the best band in the world?

Checkerboard Lounge start their set, our toes tap under the table until one of us (my sister) breaks away. “I’m going in” she declares as she grabs her beer and disappears into the lounge. We all follow. Dancing is necessary with the drummer who doubles as the singer whips the crowd into a frenzy. The espresso martini kicks in and three beers later they are playing their last song.

It’s only 10:30. Are we up for more adventure? Yes, why not? There’s a bar up Sydney Road, Bar Oussou that plays world music. We jump in the car and our trusty skipper gets us right outside. It’s impossible to enter the bar without dancing – a nine piece band is crowded onto the narrow stage elbow to elbow.

They thump and whoop the crowd into some body shaking moves. Before we know it it’s almost midnight and the band says they have two songs left. With each song lasting 15 minutes that’s another 30 minutes of booty shaking and our feet are feeling the pinch. Sweat pools and punters spill out onto the footpath where they continue their moves under the street lights. A couple rumba cheek to cheek while others smoke cigarettes.

The music stops and starts and then stops and we stumble to the car with ears ringing and smiles from ear to ear. Back at the Stanley Kubrick Hotel we fall into bed for our last night of sleep in Melbourne town.

The Great Library Crawl – Part 2

As I continue my great library crawl I visit suburban libraries in vastly different places – from Morley to Peppermint Grove. I even find the library in Parliament House, and one named after one of WA’s fave rocker’s mothers!

Library #5 to #8 in my Great Library Crawl begins in Peppermint Grove.

Peppermint Grove Library

Peppermint Grove, where no one has to put out their bins (so I am told) is one of Perth’s well-to-do suburbs. Even well-to-do suburbs have libraries and anyone can visit them. Does this make libraries the great equalisers?

Anyway, the Peppermint Grove Library, or ‘The Grove’ was very much like any library and had everything a library visitor could wish for – spacious and welcoming with a bustling kids zone and a brilliant collection of travel mags for me to browse through and come up with another pitch.

The cafe wafted caffeine my way but I was already sated so I didn’t try their wares. A library cafe is such a great addition to a library – Book cafe on steriods!

I do have a memory of Peppermint Grove Library from my teaching years. I attended an award presentation when one of my students was presented with a literary award.

Morley Public Library

A trip to one of my least favourite places, the indoor shopping centre at Morley Galleria (fondly renamed ‘gonorrhea’ by my teens) had me fleeing for a haven of peace and quiet. In a nondescript building within walking distance of Galleria is the Morley Public Library.

A brilliant mural makes this 80s brick bunker with no windows, somewhat funky. The library delivered, with many quiet nooks and computer spaces and of course a great collection of books!

Ruth Faulkner Library & Museum – Belmont

Ok so this library is pretty specky! Ruth Faulkner is Dave Faulkner’s (of Hoodoo Guru fame) mother and the museum has some of Perth’s best rock n roll memorabilia. Of course there’s Hoodoo Gurus displays along with other well known (to Perth locals) band merch. An upright piano sits invitingly asking to be played and music snippets take you back to the good ol’ days of live music in P Town.

Ruth Falkner Library itself has this state of the art book return system that looks like it has been designed by Rube Goldberg . Talk about machines taking over the world!

And yes, it has books and mags and even a section where you can purchase items. Ticks all the boxes.

Parliament House Library – Perth

My great library crawl has taken me places I wouldn’t normally go to seek peace and quiet. The Parliament House Library, or ‘The Parliamentary Library’ was not on my list but when I chanced upon it following a work lunch in the Parliament House dining room (yes, I know!) I had to make mention.

I was not allowed to take pics but let me tell you it was very grand. All the books neatly lined up with matching covers and the most comprehensive collection of newspapers I have ever come across.

We also met and chatted with some Hansard reporters who were inbetween jobs. They were wandering around with a notepad counting swans! Yes, you heard right! The WA symbol, the black swan, is everywhere once you start looking. I am unsure of the final result, but I counted at least 30 on my way out. When you know you know!

To be continued…

I have slowed down somewhat on my library crawl because I now have my home restored – but there are still some beauties to come, a country town library and one of Perth’s jewels in the crown. Fear not, the crawl will continue albeit in a slower fashion.

The Great Library Crawl – Part 1

When family came to stay libraries were my friend. So begins my Great Library Crawl!

The beginning – Libraries No. 1 to No. 4

You don’t fully appreciate what it’s like to know peace and have a quiet place to be until you don’t (for an extended time). I only have time to document this now because I have come out the other end and my sanctuary is restored!

What was this time of disturbance you ask? Recently my family (son, daughter-in-law and two littlies) arrived home to find the Niagra Falls inside their rental. Well, it was me who discovered the horror when I dropped by to deliver groceries before driving to pick them up from the airport. And there’s nothing harder than telling a travel-weary family their home is uninhabitable at 2:00 am. Lucky for them, we had room at the inn!

Guess what? As I have now discovered and been informed burst pipes under your bathroom sink are more common then you think. TURN OFF YOUR MAINS BEFORE GOING AWAY PEOPLE!

Anyway, I digress because what does this have to do with libraries?

There’s nothing like a full house and no room to escape to start me looking out for quiet and somewhere to breathe! Don’t get me wrong I love my family very much. But libraries have been my saviour this past several months.

The State Library of Western Australia

I started with the ‘mother ship’ – The State Library of Western Australia – the font of all historic records and local history exhibits, the Disrupted Festival hub and the place to go for some peace and quiet.

The State Library is capacious and she really is the true ‘mother ship’ of Western Australian libraries. Like a mother swan she encompasses all libraries beneath her Western Australian wings!

She lets you in and shelters you under her high ceilings while impressing you with her multitude of floors. And how about that glass elevator!

City of Fremantle Library

From one major library to the next – I found myself in Fremantle with some time to kill before a lunch meeting with some freelance writers so I did the writerly thing and went to hang at the library!

The Fremantle Library is a thing of beauty and I have attended workshops here in the past – the meeting rooms are comfortable and versatile. The great thing about this library is that it is open on a Sunday. The library has a ‘maker space’ for 3D printing and making stuff – seems to be a feature of most libraries now.

I love that this library is right in the busy hub of Fremantle. While I am there football is playing in the bar next door and waves of cheering can be heard when the glass doors open and close. Local history meets local flavour.

Guildford Library

Next up, is the tiny Guildford Library – which I discovered on my way home from a stand up paddle boarding venture. Not wishing to go straight home I decided to prolongue the peace for a further hour.

Small in stature but still managed to pack in a 3D Printing space and a buzzing children’s library. I have driven past this libary many times and this is the first time I have stopped. Well worth it! The story chair was pretty cool.

Town of Vincent Library

My local library – the Town of Vincent Library is an old haunt for me. When my kids were little we lived there – not in the current location but in the same building. Spacious and welcoming at the same time. Desks for sitting and nooks for tucking yourself into a corner. Women played Mahjong in the community room their tiles click clacking away.

As I continue my library crawl I find myself in country libraries while adventuring in the southwest and libraries near shopping centres I wouldn’t normally consider. There is even a sneaky visit to a library of high importance! Stay tuned for another library crawl installment – coming soon!

All in a Day #20 – Hiking Mt Cooke Darling Scarp WA

Mt Cooke Summit Hike WA – an out and back hike in winter to enjoy the Western Australian bush at it’s finest.

A Sunday morning in June, we woke before daylight to the intrusion of an ugent alarm. Setting off as dawn showed her sleepy face. The roads were quiet and mist lay low over the highway – parting as we approached. Currowongs littered the road side foraging for early morning roadside snacks – I have never seen so many before.

We needed maps to find the entrance to the hike off the Albany Highway about 50 minutes from Perth. No sign posts, just a sandy track through plantation pines and scrubland.

Cars in a row marked the beginning of the hike. A quick check of the AllTrails app confirmed we were indeed in the right spot. The sun peeked through the trees and I knew we were in for a treat!

The hike started gently with a narrow trail, damp with last night’s dew and covered in boot prints meandering through grass trees, jarrah and rocky outcrops. The climb to the ridge was steep and sometimes slippery. Rocks glistened in the morning sun with water and sodden moss – green and lush.

The bush in this part of the scarp seems to have suffered less from the recent drought than bushland in Kalamunda. Some sapling had died back in the understory but the mature plants appear unscathed.

The trail led across the ridge where 360 degree views of the forest and surrounding lands took our breaths away. When we reached the summit a low mist was still hanging over treetops – we felt like we in the clouds.

The summit to Mt Cooke, the highest point on the Darling Scarp, is marked by a pile of rocks. A skull shaped boulder greeted us as we turned the corner. 582 metres above sea level. We continued on for another 5oo metres finding a clearing for a rest and a drink.

Some of the biggest Xanthorrhoea grass trees I have ever seen, towered over us. Their trunks blackened by a recent fire. The river beds were dry aside from some small pools of shallow water from recent rain. Enough to keep wild life sated.

The sun warmed us as the clouds and mist lifted slowly revealing the lands and trees below. We really had chosen the perfect time of day and weather for this 2 hour hike. Fellow hikers were few and far between despite several cars at the base.

A short rest and some snacks at the top before we turned back the way we had come. The way down was a bit treachourous and slippery, but we reached the car quickly while enjoying the views all over again on the way down.

An extremely beautiful and moderate hike! I will definitely be back to travel further and to complete an overnight hike in the area in the future.

What’s the skinny?

The Mt Cooke Summit hike is a 80km drive from Perth on the Albany Highway

Mt Cooke is within the Monadnocks Conservation Park https://exploreparks.dbca.wa.gov.au/park/monadnocks-conservation-park

Make sure you carry water and first aid when hiking

The hike joins the Bibbulmun Track so there are options for overnight hikes to Mt Sullivan. Camp grounds on the other side of Mt Cooke.

Xanthorrhoea Grass Trees can live for hundreds of years

Dogs are not permitted on the Bibbulmun Track

Download maps before leaving as coverage is hit and miss