16 May 2010

Quokka what???

Greetings, folks. 

Sitting here reading up on Giro D'Italia reports and listening to some Jackson Browne tunes.  If you haven't listened to Jackson Browne before, I highly recommend that you do.  He's a great musician and his songwriting is something special.  He can get political sometimes, and I'm not a fan of all he has to say...but that aside, the way he orchestrates his lyrics is truly a pleasure to listen to.

Had a long weekend so far that started Friday night with Golder's 50th anniversary shin dig.  What started out as a few guys working out of an apartment in Canada has turned into a global enterprise the last 50 years.  Quite remarkable and I'm proud to say I'm part of the team.  Dinner, cocktails, and dancing.  A good way to end the work week.   

Saturday started out early with a ride to the Fremantle to catch the Rottnest Express ferry to Rottnest Island. Rottnest Island is a get-away location of sorts near Perth.  An hour bike ride to the ferry, then a 45 minute ferry ride and boom, you're there.  Well, that's how it's supposed to go. And it sort of did for me and my Golder colleague, Glenn, but not quite.  The plan was for Glenn and I to meet up at the ferry terminal at 9 am to catch the 9:30 boat.  I left a few minutes later than planned, but blasted along the rail line bike path from Subiaco to Fremantle and pedaled along the ocean front roadway until the ferry terminal signs started to pop up...the Indian Ocean on my right and shipping containers stacked several stories high to my left.  The twisting road took me through the heart of the Port of Freemantle and after nearly getting taken out by an unwieldy semi on a sharp 90-degree turn, there was a sign for the Rottnest Express.  I got off the bike exactly at 9 am.  I didn't see Glenn, so I putzed around the dock area, ate one of the PB&J sandos I whipped up and aired up my tyres (that's how they spell "tires" here in Oz)...15 minutes later, still no Glenn, and it hits me that, even though I'm at a Rottenest Express ferry dock, I may not be in the right place.  Just as I was starting to ask one of the ferry personnel, Glenn calls.  I didn't answer as I was asking the ferry guy what the deal was...sure enough, I rode to the wrong terminal!  Seems that there's another Rottnest Express terminal around the corner...but at least a 15 minute bike ride away...considering that it was already a quarter after nine, I crossed my fingers and asked if I could stow-away on the boat floating in front of me...luckily it left at 10 and had plenty of room for a gibroni like me.  After I sorted out what could have been a real debacle, I called Glenn to fill him in.  Glenn started laughing and said, "That ferry leaves at 10?  Great, I'm at the wrong ferry terminal too!  I'm heading your way.  Will be there in a bit".  I started rolling.  Both of us wound up riding to two different and incorrect terminals.  So much for Google maps.  While waiting for Glenn I struck up a conversation with an older couple who overheard my conversations with the ferry guy and Glenn...they were quite amused!  Glenn showed up, we loaded up the bikes, and joked half way to the island about screwing up on the directions. 

So Rottnest Island measures only about 6 miles long and 2 miles wide, but it's a gem of a place to visit.  As a cyclist I was happy to hear that there aren't any cars on the island...only the tour buses and other cyclists roam the roads.  Another friend and fellow North American, Alfonso, took the train (and the right ferry!) and met up with us out there.  Alfonso trotted around via bus and foot while Glenn and I spun the pedals over the rolling, chipsealed roads.  The skies were crystal clear and the temps were mild...warm enough for shorts in the sun...cool enough for a sweater in the shade with the sea breeze that was blowing.  The views were fantastic as we rode along the perimeter of the island...turquoise and light blue coves and white sand beaches, rolling surf out a-ways.  A very enjoyable ride. 

One of the primary motivators for going to the island was to see a little creature called a quokka.  As I'm sure you're aware, Australia is full of interesting animals, and the quokka fits that description.  It's a marsupial (has that pouch thingy) and is about the size of a cat.  It's furry, hops around like a kangaroo, and lives all over the island.  Glenn and I met up with a quokka at the end of our ride.  We saw a bunch more at the little village where we grabbed a bite to eat...they were hopping around under the tables and mingling among the crowds with no reservations. They must be used to the tourists! 

After eating a chicken sando from Red Rooster, Alfonso, Glenn, and I roamed around the water front as we waited to board the ferry back to the mainland.  As we were walking around, we saw a big ole sting ray skating around a pier next to the beach, so we decked over to the pier to check it out.  The ray was just moseying around the pier, putting on a show for us and the rest of the interested folks that came to take a look.  I uploaded some pictures of the island...give 'em a look when you have time.

Soon thereafter, it was time to head back to town. Bikes stowed, the three of us grabbed a seat on the top deck of the boat and got to watch the West Coast Eagles play the Melbourne Demons for the short jaunt back to port.  Glenn filled Alfonso and I in on the rules to footy...now terms like "marks" and "behinds" make a lot more sense.  Once to port, Alfonso jumped on a train and I rode with Glenn along the coast towards his place before I took a roger and worked my way through City Beach in search of Holy Spirit Church.  A friend of mine from the States knows the parish priest there, Fr. Kettle.  I got directions from a lady exercising along one of the footpaths and found the church just as she described.  I tried to find the church once before but didn't have any luck.  I walked in as quietly as I could, but the "clop clop" of my worn-out cycling shoes echoed throughout the narthex and sanctuary.  Much to my surprise, adoration was taking place, so I stuck around and said a few syllables for awhile. I had hoped to meet Fr. Kettle, but it was getting late and I needed to head back home before the sun said goodbye for the day.  Will make another visit sometime down the road.

After all that riding, I was toast.  I cooked up some sassages on the grill, whipped up a salad and scarfed down dinner soon after I got home.  An hour later, I was sawing logs.  I've been tired all day today as well.  Here on the computer to skype a few folks and then call it a night.

It's about time to start skyping.  I hope you all are having a great weekend. Enjoy the company of family and friends. 

Peace and love,

Scotty

p.s. I wanted to ask for your prayers for a few people who have passed away recently. A colleague from here in Perth passed away over the weekend in a car accident. Another colleague's mother passed away a few weeks back.  Please keep them and their families in your prayers.  Thank you.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

From those pictureS, it looks like you're in paradise buddy!
Lucky dog!
hp
p.s.: Picture of you and the other two cyclists on the dock: HOW DO YOUR SKINNY TWIG ANKLE-CLAVES NOT SNAP IN HALF?!?!

Lals said...

Hey Scotty.

I just found your blog via Facebook. Glad you're having such a fabulous time down under.

Prayers to you and your friends...

Lara

Scotty said...

Thanks for stopping by, Lara...great profile pic!

As for "Anonymous"...glad to see you're still on form even 10,000 miles away...little calves and all, nothing can stop the power of the snuggle bear!