Day 40
Wednesday 15th April 2015
Gwelup, Perth
Now I’ve seen everything, I just passed a woman walking out of the amenities block wearing nothing but wet feet, a towel and clutching a bottle of shampoo. I didn’t dare say g’day for fear that she would drop the towel!
Good news, our mate Veewee who had to turn back from Nullarbor roadhouse is back on the road and headed for Perth and the family. Safe travels Veewee.
We wait in line at the chemist and have our flu shots, get Woody’s glasses repaired and question some poor stranger about the whereabouts of the nearest Dan Murphy store. I keep insisting that Google is easier but Woody reckons it is more fun scanning the crowds for a likely ‘drinker’ then having a chat. He doesn’t factor in the difficulty of deciphering the resulting instructions….”turn left at the servo (which one), then turn right at the second or is it the third street……”.
Then it’s back into the city for our National Parks passes (seniors of course). They should pay for themselves fairly quickly as the $55 fee is the equivalent of just 5 park entries. Even when adding the extra camping fee it is so much cheaper than Victoria. I’d love to know why National Parks are state administered making each state’s charges vastly different.

We meet C & C for sundowners and dinner at the East Fremantle Yacht Club. The Wednesday smorgasbord is delicious and the view of the yachts and the Swan River at sunset is magical. As you can imagine we solve a lot of the world’s problems over a few frothies and C regales us with tales of his recent brief foray into politics. It turns out that he took up a petition to stop the tiny, one square mile East Fremantle council from being swallowed up by the much larger City of Fremantle and won.
Many thanks guys for your great company and so many laughs.
As we return across the Narrows Bridge the city lights at midnight look a treat. Just ask Woody.

The WA National Parks Pass is brilliant – agree. Actually Tasmania had something similar. I also loved the WA system of campground hosts – another of the things we were interested in doing, but never gor round to…..
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Friends of ours did camp hosting at Karijini and loved it.
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I’ve always been reluctant to begin a conversation in France in case I can’t understand the other person’s accent – always tricky – especially as mine would be equally incomprehensible
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I figure that one can always wave one’s arms a lot when conversing in a country with a different language. Though I must say some Scots leave me flummoxed. Perhaps I need to watch a few more reruns of Shetland.😉
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When I commuted from London’s Kings Cross to Nottingham’s Newark the train went all the way to Scotland. The range of accents overhead was amazing. Shetland is always worth another look. 🙂
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