I’ve been to Australia four times now, and it’s already been eight years since the last time. Way too long, if you ask me, and since the world has, of course, been in lockdown for years, I booked a flight as soon as travel restrictions were lifted. My cousin and I are heading to Perth.
The flight takes 4 hours, and I’m glad I split the trip up. It’s less tiring, and it’s nice that I was able to relax in Bali. We’re met by our “aunt”—that’s what I call her for convenience’s sake, but officially she’s my second cousin. It takes at least an hour before we see her, because the security check and then the baggage claim are incredibly long. Just to be on the safe side, we checked off everything on the customs declaration form. They’re pretty strict about what you bring into the country, and if you don’t declare something—say, an apple in your bag—you’ll get a $220 fine. That’s a bit of a waste of money.
We have plenty with us—after all, it’s almost Sinterklaas, and the family really loves all those treats! Even though they have Dutch stores here, the selection is a bit more limited. We show them what we have, and the customs officer lets us through. Luckily, we’re allowed to bring everything with us. They’re going to love that!
I know we’re always welcome there and that there’s always a bedroom ready for us. It’s such a nice feeling—and the best part is that you just go with the flow. Taking the kids to and from school, going to birthday parties, attending their activities, and so on. You’re part of the family, even though you’ve only actually seen them a few times.
The next day, we’re going to visit our Aunt Sylvia to see the rest of the family, including our great-aunt. She lives—in my opinion—quite far out in the country, but she has a large piece of land where horses roam, along with big dogs, and because of all the space, she has a lovely swimming pool, a hot tub, and a sizeable fleet of vehicles. It’s wonderful to be together again; we laugh a lot and reminisce.
The next day, we take a trip to Margaret River. I remember from my previous visits that it was really beautiful, and the road there is lined with farms. They make their own chocolate, cheese, wine, and beer. However, when we approach the farms to sample their products, it turns out they’re all closed. Even in Margaret River, where there are quite a few restaurants and shops, many places are closed. Perhaps a lot has changed since the global lockdowns: closed, gone out of business, moved, taken over, etc. Still, it’s a nice drive, and we have a great time together. We listen to Elvis (Linda’s been a huge fan for years) and sing along at the top of our lungs to Andre Hazes. On the way back, we stop by our second cousin’s place and join in on pizza night!
The next day, we’re going to enjoy the beach, but first we’re heading to the cemetery. That’s where you can see the most kangaroos gathered together, because they can just lie there, completely relaxed, eating grass and the flowers people leave on the graves. I see most of them are fake flowers now, but that hasn’t stopped the kangaroos from enjoying their time there. It’s still a strange idea to go to the cemetery just for fun.
I’ve spent a long time in Perth, and there’s very little I haven’t seen yet. I’m not really going for sightseeing, but to visit family. My great-aunt is getting on in years, and I don’t know if this will be the last time I see her. I have a total of 13 days to spend here, but one thing I’d really like to do (and for which I already bought a ticket back in the Netherlands) is visit Rottnest. It’s an island off the coast of Perth, about a 45-minute boat ride away. The island has a tropical climate. It features beautiful white beaches, unique natural scenery, is quite large, and is full of quokkas—a small marsupial that’s incredibly friendly.
When the Dutch arrived at Rottnest hundreds of years ago, they thought they were giant rats. They called it a “rat’s nest.” That’s where the name Rottnest comes from. But they aren’t rats at all. They’re about 20 centimeters tall, carry their babies in their pouches, have short front legs, hop on their hind legs, and have the cutest little faces.
I’ve planned a long day on the island: I rented a bike, went for a nice swim, had a meal, and, most of all, watched quokkas. I think they’re absolutely fantastic and could spend hours watching them.
The rest of the days, we’ll be out and about a lot. I’ll visit the city of Perth, a place the family doesn’t like to go because they find it too busy, too big, and too business-like. But I’m having a great time there. We visit York, Tootyay, and Fremantle, and celebrate the birthday of my great-great-great-nephew. The plan is to enjoy a nice day at the beach—Rockingham is a lovely spot—but on the news we hear that a sperm whale has been spotted off the coast. The animal may be sick and isn’t returning to the sea. The nearby beaches are closed because the risk of sharks is now particularly high. They can already smell the animal from kilometers away, which means it’s not safe to swim. We decide to take a chance anyway, and I want to go take a look at the animal. It’s still unclear what’s going on.
The next day, we hit the road, heading for Rockingham. The beach in front of Rockingham already has a “No Swimming” sign, citing sharks as the reason. We decide to get out of the car and walk onto the beach—it would be pretty cool to see a shark. As we walk onto the beach, we spot it right away, still in the water but not far from the shore. The whale. The animal doesn’t seem to be moving, and it’s huge. A boat is sailing nearby—one from the wildlife rescue team. Two cars are now pulling up on the beach—both from the rescue team as well. An Aboriginal man gets out, and it looks like he’s carrying a barbecue. We joke that we’ll be eating whale for dinner tonight.
He sets it down halfway in the water and lights a fire. I walk over to the people and ask them how the animal is doing. Fortunately, he had already passed away at 5:00 a.m. this morning. That means he may not have had to suffer for long. They note that the animal is very thin, fully grown, and a male. They see no signs of damage from, say, a boat, and conclude that it may have died of old age. The Aboriginal people are holding a ceremony, and later today the whale will be removed and taken to a research center. There, they plan to run tests to determine what was wrong. Afterward, the whale’s skeleton will be sent to the museum.
We drive on and end up at the coast near Penguin Island. It’s a beautiful, white beach, and the water is very shallow. Fortunately, there’s no “No Swimming” sign here, and after enjoying an iced coffee and having a good laugh, we head out onto the beach.
Yesterday, my aunt Sylvia got permanent makeup done. I got some nice eyeliner, and it’ll last about 4 years. However, these are actual tattoos—which I’ve never had before—so I was really shocked by how incredibly painful it was. Looking in the mirror, my eyes are incredibly swollen, and Linda and I joke with Sylvia: “What did you do to Priscilla? She’s all swollen up.” She was totally startled, but said that’s actually part of the process. Luckily, I already knew that, so we told her, “You should see the other guy.” As if I’d just been in a major kickboxing match, hahaha.
It’s hilarious, because across from me—Linda and I are sitting across from each other at a small table—is an older man, and I don’t know why, but suddenly my eye was drawn to under the table. Yuck! I look at Linda as if I’ve just seen something horrible, and she turns around. Just at that moment, he stands up. The man was wearing swim trunks, but apparently they were too small—his whole thing was hanging out. Yuck! I can just picture it. Linda and I are laughing our heads off when I tell her about it.
Scanning the sea, looking out for sharks, but there’s nothing to be seen. The water is fairly calm, light blue, which makes it quite possible to spot a shark. I take a chance and go into the water anyway. Luckily, it’s not deep, so if I do spot one, I can still run out. We hang around for a few hours without seeing anything, but then we head out for lunch and hurry along, because we have to pick up her grandchildren from school soon. That evening, her husband Andy suggests we drive over to Kings Park. The lights are beautiful late at night, and from there you have a lovely view—high up—over the city. Wonderful! There are lots of tourists because it really is a stunning view.
My last day in Perth has arrived, and I’ve decided to wait no more than two years before coming back. There’s still one activity left on both my and Linda’s bucket list, and that’s cage diving with sharks. This is mainly done in Adelaide, and that’s what we’re going to plan together for when I get back. Hopefully, I can combine it with swimming with the whale shark—unfortunately, they’re only found there during our summer, which is their winter, so the weather isn’t exactly ideal.
I visit another big shopping mall and treat myself to a beautiful diamond necklace—since the exchange rate is incredibly favorable, there’s a 60% discount, and I’ll get a tax refund at the airport, I decide to splurge. Afterward, I grab lunch at the food court there, pick up the kids from school, say goodbye to my great-aunt, cruise around with my Uncle Andy in his “pornmobile” (a bright red Holden Ute, which he’s incredibly proud of), and then the 13 days are over. What a wonderful time.
