Strap on the spurs and saddle up ya'll, it's time to hit the trail and ride out for the wild, wild west. Actually, that anachonism is not too far off the mark - a plank of plywood in the back of a rickety covered wagon and a threadbare blanket bartered off the last indian tribe would be more comfortable than being crammed into a decrepit Qantas 747-300 on the 5 hour red-eye leg to Perth. I Still Call Australia Home only because the thought of another flight in the pouch of the flying kanga is about as appealing as being locked in a retirement village while geriatrics
serve you Neil Perry gourmet regurgitated tomato paste whilst dragging their oxygen cylinders up the aisle... oh wait...
But hey, what could be lamer than bitching about an entirely free flight? Why starting your tour of every new city worshipping at the alter of the orange umbrell... I mean the Stylised Citi, Let's Get it Done Arc Motif (tm). Unfortunately, the locals aren't in need of a new chequing account, they couldn't care less if Today is Someday, and the only Dreams they want to turn to Reality involve running over the next annoying tourist who thinks he's got a witty pose up his sleeve.
Of course, when the furious growth of the sleeping dragon depends almost entirely on the stones being dug up in this part of the world, the denizens of the land are a little more willing to show their gentle side to this visitor from the East.
Every city worth its salt has a Millenium Project. I mean, Fielding has a shoulder high clock "tower" as its pride and joy. Nothing brings a community together like a grandiose taxpayer funded black hole to rile in unison against. Having said that, Perth's offering in the Let'sCelebrateSurvivingTheWorldEndingThreatofY2K stakes is pretty cool. It's called the Swan Bells, but not for any apparent reason. It's more a fushion of what NASA would build if they actually had some funding, and what George Lucas would create now that he has an endless CGI budget and a paper-thin storyline to distract people from.
Rock starts on his way up the corporate ladder...
...3,569 stapler refills, 2,782 coffee runs, 14,560 pages of photocopying, and 598 evenings of "Yes Sir I'd love to stay late and cover for you so you can attend that not-to-be-missed networking opportunity down at the golf club" later, Rock has nearly earned the opportunity to kiss the big boss's ass...
So much for the wild west. Instead a little slice of European sophistication. I am, of course, referring to the Tudor style buildings in the background - it's hard to eat bangers and mash with a pair of chopsticks.
From the old to the new. Appropriately for a city fueled by renembi, there are hints of the mighty Bank of China HK building in these sleek lines.
It looks impressive until you read the logo... Bank West? Bank Who? Is that another corner piggy bank merchant like that "Macquarie, We're Number 1... on Martin Place" crowd? Hur hur hur, it's an oldie but a goodie.
Kings Park, perched over the picturesque Swan River, is the perfect place to sample the local flora. These fatties (ouch, I mean the trees, Mei) are visitors from the outback.
Houston, we have lift-off. Seismographs in the park recorded a mysterious earth tremor 2 seconds after this photo was taken, consistent with a massive object crashing to earth.
Looking North back toward the city. Rock savours a view that is now worth more than the Opera House/Harbour Bridge vista, thanks to Perth's hyperinflated housing market..
That pond looks nice, but it's actually darn cold. How do we know? Because Mei fell in shortly after.
What better way to sample some of the local cuisine than atop the rotating restaurant with sweeping 360 degree views of the twinkling city. Rock had the unique excuse of being able to blame seasickness instead of the wine for once...
Yanchep National Park lies about 40min North of Perth. While the East Coast was drowning in the worse floods in memory, Perth was enjoying exquisite weather - 21 degrees and not a cloud in the sky.
Mei's heard a rumour that Dancing with the Stars is coming to CCTV9.
Mei pauses for a moment of reflection. Hur hur hur.
Rock follows the age old advertising law - it doesn't matter what you're trying to sell, just make sure you put a hottie in it. For the record, the beef jerky was pretty good too. Oh, and this is the first shots of the mighty Indian Ocean. If you squint hard enough you might see Madagascar out there on the horizon. Nope, sorry, that's a bit of grime on the lens.
Enough of the touristy thing, time to get down to business. Team UTS limbers up for the blue ribbon foil teams event.
Rock has a few issues with his lame. Whaddya mean metal doesn't shrink? What are you implying?
Team UTS looks relaxed ahead of their first round match-up, despite the presense of the epee imposter in the ranks. Who wouldn't be relaxed with an Olympian to anchor the effort.
We are the Champions... of the World! Ok, the Continent anyway. Rock claims his first AFF gold with the deadly GolubitskyPoint-In-Line.
Next stop, the historic port of Fremantle, or Freo as the locals affectionately call her. Rock rues the fact he didn't bring a Swannies jersey to parade around the football-mad town. Or he does until he sees the physique of the local dockers...
How can you ram home the anti-plagerism message to your students when you decide to call your glorifed polytechnic Notre Dame? I'm not seeing a lot of ivy draped over this sign? And somehow I don't think the Fighting Irish marching band is going to be blasting out their victory march as the Frozen Four kicks off round these parts...
It's not all sweaty dock hands and fish guts.
The sun sinks down over the Indian Ocean and the cranes go quiet at the end of another long day. Ok, it wasn't long 'cause the unions couldn't be bothered doing any work - they're too busy filming anti-Jonny ads and holding AWA bonfires.
The view from the South Bank of the Swan River. Perth does rivers right, with a scenic park stretching the length of the bank. This is a new concept for someone who grew up with the idea that best practice is to plonk a muddy sheep paddock alongside a city's water feature.
Lights out. Maybe the darkness will hide the big dent Rock put in the side of the brand new rental Corrolla...
The view from the park at the foot of the building. This avoids having to construct an elaborate di Vinci mirror system on the balcony to take advantage of what real estate agents euphemistically call "harbour glimpses".
Enjoy this while you can. Apparently Toyota is suing Jetstar for stealing what their lawyers term the "exclusive, copyrighted Toyota Oh What a Feeling jumping action" for their holiday ads. I kid you not. Given the expansive readership base of this blog, I'm already briefing my legal team for the battle ahead.
Pyrmont Point park, 2 minutes down the road. Spectacular views and a brand new park. Nice to see the tax dollar going to something other then carting big George W around in air conditioned, bulletproof comfort.
The use of diagonal elements adds a contemporary edginess to this award-winning photographer's composition, as he seeks to capture the dynamism of inner-city living. That's Rock trying out for a job writing real estate ads.
Jones Bay Wharf is just down the hill, but this is as close as Rock is going to get to the sleek cruisers moored there. Apparently some of the berths are worth more than his new digs.
Looking back towards our building. See that really nice building right in the middle of the shot... that's not it. See that quite nice one just to the left of the middle... no that's not it either. See that brick building hiding almost off frame under that aforementioned crane... that's home sweet home.
The newly renovated waterfront. Check out that cool tidal powered sculpture in the background. But don't let Johnny H see - he's not big on alternative fuels. Meanwhile the forward-thinking designers put a convenient life-saver on the railing for when the inevitable idiot decides to clamber up on the piers...
The maritime theme continues with this ode to the old whaling days. Here Rock struggles vainly to complete the Vitruvian Man pose, mercifully falling short well before he takes it to the next step and goes sans garments (and comes up even shorter perhaps?)
The next stop in the nice-buildings-Rock-can't afford tour. This is Jackson's landing, just around the corner from Point Street.
Carrying on the tour, the last stop is on the other side of Pyrmont peninsula where the mighty Anzac bridge marks the start of the real inner West. Meanwhile in the background another load of brand new Corollas arrives for Rock to dent...
