Australia as a whole lends itself to a very outdoors lifestyle. With the amount of space and the great weather (especially in Perth where it’s pretty much consistent all year around) you are spoilt for choice when it comes to activities.

That afternoon it was all about Supa Golf. It’s a variation on the real game. Bigger club heads, bigger balls and putting holes that are twice the original size means that virtually anyone can play it. And that suited first timers Lezil and I. A well-priced $12.50 each got us kitted out with our own set of clubs, tees and balls.

The other thing about Supa Golf is the actual golf course itself which is only nine holes and the longest driving distance is just over 100 metres.

Lezil’s parents and brother were regular golf players, so already we were at a disadvantage. Nonetheless they were happy enough to share some of their insider tips to ensure that when we teed off, our ball wouldn’t go wildly off course. There was a strong crosswind that we had to contend with too. Most of the holes were either 3 par or 4 par and the first couple of holes proved difficult getting the ball in on par.

Once you got the feel of swinging the club and the flight of the ball, we all started to get into our stride. Melville Golf Centre, where we were playing, was well maintained with a simple club house overlooking the greens, a driving range and a practising putting green.

There were a number of people out playing that day and I was a bit worried that our slowish pace was holding up some of the groups behind us. But I was told that golfing etiquette was to wait.

Nearing  the end, the eighth and ninth holes were tightly contested as some of us hit or sweet spots and others lost concentration giving way to unnecessary errors. All our balls were scattered around the putting green on the last hole when Lezil’s brother Jesse received a phone call from a long-time family friend back in Cape Town. His name was Carlo who I had met back in 2010 – the year I proposed to Lezil. I remember him pulling me aside and giving me the whole “if you mess with Lezil, you mess with me speech…” (in a nice way though!). So I was delighted to report back to him that our marriage thus far was going swimmingly well!

Jesse’s mobile was handed from person to person as we all had our few minutes with Carlo. This, according to Dad Hendricks, was what made his own downfall getting 3 over on the last hole. With the entire course completed, we camped to one side as Dad H counted up the final scores. In reverse order: Lezil 15 over, me 9 over, Dad H 7 over, Mom H 5 over and the winner…Jesse with just 3 over. I presented my brother-in-law with his commemorative tee trophy. A game well played.

The following morning and we went down to the weekly Sunday Community Market which happens at Market City – a purposed built zone in south Perth for market sellers. It started back in 1990 and today it’s Perth’s largest attracting over 5,000 people each week. The stalls were housed in a huge hanger-type covering with open sides. You pay a $1 admission fee and then have free reign to hunt down that bargain. Originally more of a fruit and veg place, nowadays you can pick up anything from vintage wear and frozen meat to crystals and tents.

They had a great plants and flowers section, in particular selling a selection of herbs for your garden. I was also surprised to see the amount of chilli plants being sold considering the amount of Australians that I have come across who dislike spicy food. There were a number of second hand book sellers and as it’s difficult to get a good selection of foreign books in Shanghai, I set out to find me some good reads. I found one for a dollar which was, ironically, about China called ‘Socialism is Great!’ by Lijia Zhang. Lezil managed to pick up an excellent reference book to help her with her reflexology studies.

Midway through our wanderings we walked up to a table which was doused in South African flags. Run by a couple originally from Pietermartizburg (not far from Durban) they moved to Perth three years ago after a six year stint in New Zealand and now run their South African sauce business from home. The range was branded as ‘Aunt Kay’s’ (after its inventor) where they had small wooden sticks which you could use to dip into different sauces for sampling. Lots of fire and lots of flavour – a great combination of that South African Indian heritage to be found in cooking from KwaZulu-Natal.

At the end of one of his tables, he had written a cardboard sign saying “Free Please Take”. If it’s free, I’ll take a look! I knelt down to the low table soon realising that the coverless DVDs all had a running theme – Christianity. Titles like “Friend of God”, “The Godhead and the Holy Spirit” and “The Final Events” all teased my curiosity. Wanting to be polite, I walked back over to the stall holder to ask him if it was fine that we took a couple of his DVDs. This was the catalyst to instigate a conversation.

His first question was “Are you Christians?” Yes. “Great!” he said.

The journalist in me absolutely thrives on knowing a person’s back story and in the few seconds of hearing him speak, I was eager to know his nationality. His vowels sounded Australian but some of his consonants had a foreign-tinged accent to them. “I am from the former Yugoslavia,” he said satisfying my urge to know. He introduced himself as Peter and informed us that he moved over to Australia at young age where he has lived ever since.

Having been in various states, he now resides in Western Australia with his UGG Boots business but it was clear his passion for God was his true calling. The ten minutes or so we spent chatting with him was inspiring as his infectious upbeat view of life was unstoppable. A straight forward talking guy with a no nonsense attitude concerning his beliefs, to me, he instantly became the ‘UGG Boots Preacher’.

Having said that, we’ve been in China for more than three years now and still we have yet to visit the Great Wall (it’s on our travel list!). But back to Australia. In order for us to get into Dr. Doolittle mode we headed for Caversham Wildlife Park. It’s actually a park within a park as the actual ‘zoo’ is located inside Whitman Park in the north eastern side of Perth. What sets it apart is the fact that the whole operation is family owned and is entirely funded by revenue generated from visitors.

We arrived nice and early, 9:30am and the gates had just opened.

 $24 dollars per person gets you access to all areas and activities. I had researched a couple of other animal places that were slightly cheaper to get into but then you had outlandish fees of $15-25 per photo charged with, say, a koala.  Here, once you were in, that was it, no added costs.

The grounds weren’t huge but ample enough to make you feel you were getting your money’s worth. It was divided into different regions of Australia with its creatures and plants reflecting that specific terrain. Right in the middle was the kangaroo enclosure. We had originally been making a beeline for the opening farm show, but walking past the gate to see a load of kangaroos lazing about was too difficult to resist.

There were no wildlife professionals around. The few signs as you entered gave you some tips on how to interact with the huge marsupials.

I wasn’t sure on their temperament so I was overly cautious as we ventured in. Immediately a couple of them came hopping over for a closer look. Wow! It was the first time I was seeing kangaroos close up. Their heads were like a cross between a camel and rabbit with very sleepy eyes.

At the far end was a sealed bin which you could help yourself to pellets for feeding them. I scooped up a handful, knelt down on the grass and within moments I was inundated with kangaroos – white, red and grey colours. They were so docile. I particularly liked it when they put their tiny paws on your hands, claws slightly digging into your skin, as they contently munched away on the food you were offering them. What an unforgettable experience to be up close to so many kangaroos.

After a good 30 minutes interaction, we moved on to a makeshift covered dome which was where ‘Meet the Wombat and Friends’ activity was taking place. Set in, what looked like, a movie set for a cowboy movie, around five wildlife experts had their stations where you could, again, have a personalised animal encounter.

There were parrots, birds of prey, lizards, kangaroos and, by far the biggest (literally) star of the show was the wombat. In my ignorance, I had no idea just how bulky they were.

Weighing up to 35kg, it looked more like a potbellied pig than a member of the marsupial family. You had the opportunity to stroke it and have a photo but all the while it was held tight by its keeper. They are particularly sensitive around the head where its whiskers are and any agitation could set it off.

The other biggie, when it comes to Australian animals, has to be the koala (not ‘koala bear’ as its often mistakenly referred to). Again, you could walk into an enclosure, supervised by a wildlife official.

Their fur was soft-to-the-touch and I felt almost self-conscious that we were disturbing their nap as we spent a few minutes in with them but the animal keeper assured us it was fine.  At the opposite end of the grounds was the farm section which had your chickens, pigs, rabbits, guinea pigs, horses, goats and llamas. The goats were a cheeky lot always trying to take a nibble on our clothes. Just as Lezil was in her animal communication mode, a flock of ducks got up and waddled in a straight line around her – a perfect picture moment.

By this time it was nearing 1pm and we had pretty much covered the whole wildlife park. Just before leaving we went for a final goodbye to our kangaroo friends. The peak of the heat was just hitting 40C and they were all sprawled out in the shade trying to keep cool. It seemed like they too were joining their koala cousins in having a good afternoon sleep. And so laidback they were that you could have quite easily curled up on the grass next to one and it wouldn’t have flinched. Definitely one of those memorable experiences.

Walking to our parked car, we noticed a small recreational area in Whitman Park which had a paddling pool (or a ‘Mussel Pool’ as it was called).

Meant for kids, but everyone was taking advantage of the cool waters to try and bring down body temperatures. We sat there with our legs immersed in the water and started to reflect on what a good lifestyle Australia does offer. It’s always the case of seeing it through holiday-glasses, but so far it does seem like people living here do have a very good standard of living. And everyone we have come across has been talking the place up to high heaven as if it’s the one and true promised land. So far, I can’t fault them (except the prices…still too expensive for my liking!).

Being a bay, the water was more like a lake than an ocean with barely any movements lapping the shore. We certainly do not have scenes like this anywhere near Shanghai, so I was overly happy soaking up every moment. I went for a walk and came across a man who had spent the night before catching herring (38 in total) and he was contently de-scaling the fish to be cooked later. It was all-so relaxing as we conversed about his life and how he takes a month off every year to spend at his campervan home not far from the beach.

An 8 am tennis game followed with Lezil’s dad and brother before Lezil and I jumped in the car for an afternoon exploring the coastline together. This is what really gets my juices flowing – an open road, a map and an innumerable amount of tiny towns and villages to drop in on. Going due west along Geographe Bay we eventually drove downhill to the shore, arriving at a remote place called Eagle Bay. A handful of houses clung to the low-lying hills overlooking the spectacular shoreline.

The beach itself was made of silky smooth white sand and the clearest water I have ever seen. A number of outlaying rocks created knee-high lagoons allowing you to venture out without going in too deep.

Like so many occasions before, we had the whole place to ourselves. Back in the car and we drove up to the tip of the bay’s headland known as Cape Naturaliste. It’s limestone lighthouse, built in 1903, still stands today working as a warning for ships to keep their distance from the dangerous reefs and rocks dotted all along the coast. Paying for a guided tour ($11 AUD per person), our 35 minute walk around the lighthouse and up to the top, was a blustery affair. The wind had picked up pace, so much so, that our guide’s glasses were blown off into the nearby shrubbery.

The views from the top (123m above sea level) were literally breathtaking as you struggled to get your words out against the prevailing wind. Clinging tightly to the metallic white painted rails, we did the 360 degree walk to capture the views all around before getting down to ground level. Seeing as though it was so windy, I thought we’d go to Yallingup which is an aboriginal word meaning “place of love”. Nowadays, the main thing associated with the seaside town is surfing.

With huge rollers crashing in, this was the place to try and tame a wave. Before getting in on the beach action, we decided to park up for some lunch at the only visible outlet – Shaana Café and Restaurant. We walked in 45 minutes before the advertised lunch closing time of 3pm. A friendly lady seated us at two comfy arm chairs that looked like they had come from an English tearoom. Two LP covers were handed to us as she said, “Here are your menus,” in a decidedly European-sounding accent. How cool!

We slipped out the laminated menus from within the record covers. The menu was an Italian fanfare with authentically described dishes and ingredients.

I ordered a calzone filled with mozzarella cheese and spinach and Lezil went for a type of oven-baked pumpkin dish saturated in an intense tasting tomato sauce and cheese. Both dishes got a 5 stars rating. This was all too real Italian to be made by an Australian. Ordering our chocolate hazelnut cake to be boxed up to go, we got chatting with our friendly European lady.

The story goes like this. She, Chiara, and her husband Alfonso and three year old daughter moved to Australia and bought the place last June, spent two months doing it up and opened their restaurant in September.

They employ a staff of around eight people including two chefs in their early twenties brought over from Italy (that explains the perfection of the Italian recipes we tasted!). It was so captivating hearing her story. After a few years running their business there in Yallingup, they plan to do an incredible overland trip from Singapore back to Italy with a six-month stint in India – now that’s what I call global citizens.

Doing and email swap and promising to keep in touch (what a friendly bunch!), we could hear the commentaries of an ongoing surf competition as we stepped out of the restaurant.

There was a gazebo, rather struggling against the crazy gusts of winds, where spectators stood to watch surfers battle it out in the water below. There were different categories, each awarded for their style and the wave they managed to catch. We stayed for the stand up and paddle segment which uses a thicker board than a surfer’s one and comes with a paddle.

I really admired the determination of the competitors as each wave rose up like an angry dragon unravelling its breath of fire with venom. And seeing the odd person getting caught in the wave was pretty nail-biting to watch. I wasn’t all clued up with all the rules and points.

 So I approached one official behind the competition stand area. The split second he uttered his first few words, I had to stop him in mid-sentence, saying “Eres tú latino?” (“Are you Latino?”) He paused looking at me wondering if I actually had spoken to him in Spanish?

It transpired that we were neighbours – Geraldo was Peruvian, and me the Ecuadorian. He works as a surf teacher and competition organiser and fell in love with Australia after a simple holiday trip more than 20 years ago. Despite his long time down under, his South American accent was as thick as ever and he was equally passionate about his adopted country.

The day wrapped up with a major indulgence at one of the region’s best loved ice cream brands – Simmo’s. It actually came over from Northern Ireland and was first set up by a father and son team in 1993. Today it has several outlets in Western Australia with over 100 flavours to choose from. The scoops were generously placed on the cones as we took them to the garden out the back. My Apple Pie flavour was spot on with the chunky bits of cooked apple seasoned in cinnamon, tasting like it had just come out of the oven. Lezil had the flavour of the day, Burnt Caramel with Salty Caramel Swirl. Ice creams put away in record time, it was back to the resort for an early evening match of tennis and swim (much calorie-burning needed!). 

Margaret River – an area known for its wine production – was our destination for a long weekend’s stay. The journey south from Perth would cover over 200km using mostly free-flowing freeways to get there in around three hours (including a couple of stops). 

By 10am our party of two cars pulled into the quaint town where the Bussell Highway we had used to get into the region, formed the actual high street with shops and restaurants lined up on both sides.

We grabbed a cooked brekkie before Lezil’s entire family (Dad, Mom, brother Jesse) myself, Lezil and Brook (Jesse’s girlfriend) went just south of Margaret River town to A Maze’N. The main attraction there is its imposing hedge maze which was first planted in 1994 and has been growing ever since.

Perhaps because it was lunch time, we were practically the only ones there and so we had free reign to enjoy this real-life Alice in Wonderland adventure. To add that competitive edge, we split into three couples teams.

There was one entrance and one exit but you also had to reach the central look-out point. And, for extra points, you had to come across eight different benches – each a type of animal or object. To make sure we played by the rules, photos of each bench and one from the middle look out platform had to be taken.

Slapping on some sunblock and armed with bottles of water each, a cloud of dust kicked up as we hurriedly ran into the maze’s entrance.

The hedges were exceptionally well laid out as it was impossible to tell if you were coming to a dead end (as was the case with Lezil and I quite a few times!). Jesse and his girlfriend Brook were the first to reach the centre, noted by their taunts of “We are here…!” In the meantime we played cat and mouse with Lezil’s parents trying to lose them and lead them down wrong paths.

The earlier speed we had gleefully displayed had slowed down to a gentle walk as the sun’s heat was beginning to take its toll. We eventually stumbled across the central lookout point for a breather before launching into the mission of finding the exit. There were a few times where I was tempted to sneak through one of the emergency exits and run around the outside to fake a win, but my moral side told me otherwise. 40 minutes later and we could hear that both other pairs had completed the task.

Now, it was just the case of saving face by at least completing the maze which, thankfully, we managed to do five minutes later. The winners: Jesse and Brook.

Apart from some paths and gardens, there were other solving-type games including a brick maze (far simpler to complete) and a left-hand maze where you could only get out by taking left turns and going straight – a lot harder than it looked. Over at the hibiscus garden was an outdoor version of noughts-and-crosses. Here, I managed to redeem myself by winning my rounds to become eventual champion.

I absolutely loved our visit to the Margaret River Dairy Company where they had different cheeses to try (hands up, I am a cheese addict). The Port Club Cheddar was the winner for me and I immediately bought one to take away. It had a light but sharp taste, leaning on the mature side. I could already seem myself savouring slices of the stuff on crunchy water crackers with a stick of celery on the side.

Another 15 minutes down a couple of country lanes and we arrived at the Margaret River Chocolate Company – somewhat of an institution in the area.

This place was huge with every conceivable chocolate variety under the sun and moon. I’m not usually a white chocolate person (I prefer my darker varieties – read what you may into that!) but their white chocolate button samples were simply sublime. It was also great to see them stocking chocolate produced from other countries including my native Ecuador which I was particularly proud of. What caught my eye, or my palette to be exact, was the combination of chilli and chocolate – sweet and fiery at the same time.

Having been on the go since 5am that morning, we were more than ready to head to our accommodation. The Bayview Geographe Resort, as its name suggests, is right on Geographe Bay with direct beach access. The hotel is made up of 28 acres of parkland with mostly villa-style accommodation. Ours was a spacious three-bedroom holiday home with kitchen, dining room, living room, TVs in all rooms and ensuite. Other facilities included two swimming pools, three tennis courts and a games room.

As Lezil and I had lost the maze challenge, our forfeit was to make dinner that night.

Settling down on my big blue beach towel, with my earphones in and music pumping away I was enjoying the awesome views of Cottesloe Beach and the coastline further up. I was still dripping wet having just got out of the water after a 30 minute swim in the warm Indian Ocean.

Lezil had gone down to the nearby outdoor shower to wash off the sea water. I closed my eyes, preferring to allow the sun to dry me. Moments later, I took my iPod out to see what track I was listening to. It was the 2009 Hed Kandi compilation mix – an album I had heard, literally, hundreds of times.

I sat up to see three Australia lifeguards moving swiftly along the beach blowing whistles and calling people to urgently come out of the water. The siren was endless, a bit like the one you’d associate with air raids during a war. I grabbed by camera and headed down to the shoreline to get a closer look. Standing next to me was a young lady from Perth and I asked her to let me know what was going on. “Two sharks have been spotted close to the beach,” she said.

Suddenly a loud helicopter sound came roaring above.

I remember seeing one up beach while we were swimming earlier. She told me the coast guards use helicopters to monitor the waters and any potential threats to swimmers. And the fact that they had been flying around pretty much all afternoon, meant that the inevitable shark alarm was bound to go off. It’s no joke – being shark aware. A local website Shark Alarm has a page dedicated to sightings which practically has daily updates.

A large number of people had gathered on the rock jetty where shark movements had been spotted in the water.

As it was a clear day, water visibility was good. In the frantic rush to get out, one kite surfer lost his foot and his board was left drifting away in the water. I managed to grab a quick chat with one of the lifeguards who was very a-matter-of-fact about the whole thing.

He said that it was dangerous to allow anyone back in the water because of the high shark activity and that the beach would remain closed for at least an hour. Strangely enough, a fatal shark attack occurred on this very beach one year ago. A 64 year old man went for a morning swim whilst his family waited on shore to have breakfast with him. By 9:30am the alarm was raised and eventually his swimming suit was recovered with clear signs of shark bites. That time around, Cottesloe Beach remained shut for two days.

There are around 370 species of sharks of which over 100 can be found in Western Australian waters. According to the Surf Life WA rescue helicopter service, there have been over 246 shark sightings so far this summer.  Ironically, the fact that there is so much shark activity in the area is clear indication of water cleanliness and a healthy marine environment.

I must admit, experiencing a shark warning firsthand has made me slightly wary of swimming in too deep. There was I earlier doing breaststroke in about two metres plus of ocean water, not realising the potential danger lurking further out.

Statistically 61.1% of Australians call themselves Christians, but in reality Church attendance numbers have been in steady decline over the years. So it was a surprise to visit one example of Church that is bucking that trend.

Perth Christian Life Centre (or CLC) can be found in a residential area of Canning Vale (a suburb on the outskirts of south Perth). With its purpose built building, you’d be forgiven for mistaking it for a top concert venue with its blacked-out 1,000 seater auditorium, ample stage, well-rigged sound system and an impressive light show complete with a huge screen backdrop.

The enthusiastic band led by a rock band-styled lead singer pumped out contemporary Christian music emphatically followed by a congregation of all ages.

This was the Church my in-laws attended with Lezil’s mom, Lizz, heading up the arts and dance program there. Curiously enough, I was told that over half of all CLC attendees were not Australians per se but immigrants who had come and made Perth their home. A good proportion of people were of Asian descent along with a large contingency from Africa, especially South Africa.

A snappy messaged was delivered by senior Pastor Storer who would have got the feminist vote with his head-on sermon on the story of two sisters – Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-4). According to Storer, the very fact that Mary decided to sit and join the men during their meal, and have it approved by Jesus, was a clear sign that no longer was Jesus allowing gender discrimination but that women could have authority just as much as men. A hot topic indeed which has divided many a theologian. The service was over in little more than an hour and a half.

A quick change back at Lezil’s parent’s home and then Dad Hendricks kindly drove us into town for a celebration of a different kind – Chinese New Year! Northbridge, a central area of the city, is a trendy hotspot of bars, restaurants, cute coffee shops and a run of vintage stores. It’s also home to, what would qualify, as Perth’s China Town.

The main piazza and surrounding streets had been blocked off to traffic, creating the focal point for the festivities. A few thousand people were soaking in the afternoon’s sun, with temperatures topping 38C.

The majority of street stalls all had some kind of Chinese theme to them from teas and lanterns to candy and dumplings. There was even one which had a chopstick-picking competition. I remember when I first arrived in China, I struggled to complete a meal without looking like Edward Scissorshands attempting to eat a bowl of noodles.

Fast forward three years later and I now come close to Mr Miyagi’s feat of catching flies with one skilful swoop. I summoned that Karate Kid spirit as I stepped up to the table putting myself forward as a candidate for the next round of competition. 

The rules were simple enough. There were 30 jellybeans in a central bowl with one Chinese takeaway box on either side. Two people with a pair of chopsticks each went head-to-head to see who could pick out the most jellybeans until the bowl was empty.

Up against me was a Chinese Malaysian dude called Kenny. As expected, stereotypes kicked in and the majority of onlookers already had it as a foregone conclusion – me the loser. We were given our starting orders before our referee shouted “go!”. Those annoying little jelly beans kept slipping off the ends of my chopsticks. Kenny had got off to a good start with two in his takeaway box, me with nada. I realised for something as delicate as a slippery piece of candy, I had to lessen the pressure at which I was clamping the chopsticks with.

Then I suddenly got into my groove and those jelly beans were dropping into my box quicker than winning coins coming out of a slot machine. I sped right past my Malaysian friend which seemed to put him off and in no time, the central bowl was empty. Our referee counted our final numbers. 25 to me, 5 to Kenny. I was the chopsticks champion! There was an honorary trophy handed out. Kenny did ask me how I managed to work the two little sticks with apparent ease.

I came clean and told him that we have been living in China for a few years now. He gave me a friendly slap on the back acknowledging the fact that I have obviously had some good training. Following from all that excitement, we managed to catch some performances which included a boisterous lion dance, Beijing Opera singing, a tai chi demonstration and a graceful upbeat dragon dance.

The lingering outdoor cooking smells was making us decidedly hungry which led us to a small strip aptly named (for us) ‘Old Shanghai’. It was a recreation of the type of hawker stalls you’d find in somewhere like Singapore or Malaysia. And as it was Chinese New Year, we went for Indian food. (We’ve eaten our fair share of Chinese cuisine to last us a lifetime!)

Thankfully, the prices also reflected the nature of the street-food-concept. For around $11 your plate was piled high with rice and a choice of three meat or vegetable choices. I had the Lamb Rogan and Lezil went for the Butter Chicken – both of which were cooked to perfection with all those incredible spices (not too overpowering) coming through in the flavour.

There were additional parades with a local Chinese women’s dance group dressing up in various ethnic clothing reflecting the diversity of China as a nation.

A mock Chinese emperor was handing out Hong Bao (red packets) for the kids which had token money and some sweets in them. There was an evening concert scheduled with a live link to Nanjing for families to greet each other, but we were tired out after spending the whole afternoon in the sun enjoying the festivities.

My last Chinese New Year experience in China was in blisteringly cold temperatures of -30C way up in Inner Mongolia. Last year, we celebrated with friends in Penang (Malaysia).

Local slang lesson aside we were actually heading to Cockburn (remember, Coe-burn) for a date with water in many forms. Right by the deserted Bibra Lake was the manmade waterworld of Adventure World. Originally opened in 1982 the park has undergone a number of facelifts keeping it a popular pastime for locals to enjoy – even if the current entry fee is at a steep $50 a pop. Admittedly, I was rather apprehensive going to an attraction of this nature on a weekend.

Once inside and already you could hear the screams of exhilaration coming from the park’s various rides. The majority of the attractions were water-based but a few more standard theme park contraptions could be found including a rocking Viking ship, a 360 degrees spinning spider ride called Powersurge and a revolving platform that tips you upside down known as The Rampage.  With my track record of motion sickness, I was staying well away from those.

The whole area was well laid out with the grassy sections being used as makeshift campsites as people put up their tents close to the various palm trees providing shade from the sizzling midday sun.

Speakers every ten metres or so blasted out pop music but at regular intervals you heard these pounding bongo drums – a signal that the giant tribal bucket at the top of Kahuna Falls was about to tip over and cascade a ton of water on people below.

It was hilarious to watch. Those standing there looked like a bunch of cult worshippers eagerly gazing at this menacing-looking face, waiting to be baptised in a sudden shower of water. Needless to say, we joined in the fun and the force of the water falling down was surprisingly strong. Having had our appetite wetted (if you pardon pun), we made a beeline for the top end of the park where we tried out two water rides – Aqua Super 6 Racer and The Shotgun.

To my pleasant surprise, the cues moved quickly and we barely waited 15 minutes and we were already sitting in our respective positions, foam mats gripped with two hands, waiting for the starting lights to turn green. And we were off! You could get some good speed going down the Aqua Super 6 Racer as you rode the water current on your stomach. Lezil and I came in 5th and 4th (yes, a poor showing from the Freemans!), whilst Jesse (Lezil’s brother) topped the leader board.

Lizz, Lezil’s mom, had been sitting out on the action thus far, but with some convincing banter from Dad Hendricks, we coaxed her to line up for The Shotgun. This ride was for two people sharing a big inflatable double-seater ring. You climbed to the top of the ‘mountain’ and got into your position at the entrance of a water tunnel. With a little push from the ride operator and you slid into darkness, again moving rapidly. Unable to see anything, you were taken by surprise as to which way the tunnel would take you, adding to the disorientating-fun of the experience. We gave both Dad and Mom Hendricks a big cheer when they came out the other end – dripping wet!

Taking a break from thrill-seeking, we were back at camp by which time some friends of the family had arrived – all South African and Coloured.

It was as if I had never left Cape Town. And I loved it. There’s something about Cape Coloured humour and the accent that makes me feel right at home.

(Disclaimer: to all my friends who may be unfamiliar with South African culture, no, I am not being racist or un-PC when I use the term ‘Coloured’. It’s a community in its own right with its own Afrikaans dialect, music, food, identity, etc. As the saying goes, “I’m not Black, I’m Coloured”. It’s too long to go into here but maybe I’ll do a separate blog on it someday. You can check out this recent documentary on it by clicking here.)

Time to cool off again, this time in the huge central pool known as The Lagoon. Considering the amount of people in it, you had ample room to swim about. I said to Lezil, the only thing missing was a wave machine to add to the list of fun-items there. It was nearing the closing time of the park so we went for a scout about to see what else there was. At the north end was a small zoo with kangaroos, koalas, emus, alpacas, dingoes and peacocks. Then on the western side was a kid’s section where we gave the mini rollercoaster, The Dragon Express, a try. Meant for infants, but actually you were tossed about quite wildly in your seat.

A 35 minute drive south along the coast from Perth lies the small seaside town of Rockingham. One of its main attractions is a small spec of islands which can be found literally a few hundred metres off shore.

A designated nature reserve, the whole area comes under Shoalwater Marine Park with its two main islands – Penguin Island and the much smaller Seal Island being where most visitors head. It was all very low-key and eco-conscious as we cued to buy our tickets for both the ferry crossing and the seal tour. The main focus here was conservation and so, on the actual islands there are no shops and minimal signs of man’s involvement.

The huge expanse of striking blue from the sky almost seemed to blend with the various shades of turquoise of the ocean.

It reminded me of a type of island and water scene you’d see in somewhere like the Caribbean. The small boat was loaded up with that morning’s tourists and the journey across the bay took a mere eight minutes. To our left was a visible sand bar which meant, technically, you could wade across from the mainland to Penguin Island. But the sea being the sea, tides and currents are unpredictable and so warning signs were all over the place discouraging people from attempting it.

Disembarking at Penguin Island, we waited on the jetty for our first boat tour.

The day was a true scorcher with unbroken sunshine and temperatures in the high 30s.

We piled on to the second boat which had a glass bottom. Off we set, bound just north of Penguin Island into open sea where the waters became decidedly choppier. Our guide gave us the lowdown on the island’s ecological history which included our famed penguin and seal friends. Normally, there are regular sightings of wild dolphins in the area but unfortunately that morning they must have been busy frolicking elsewhere.

As we turned down the east side of Seal Island, a wide sandy white beach appeared with three huge chubby seals sunbathing. Behind them was a flock of pelicans, lazily pruning themselves oblivious to the camera snapping that was taking place just a few metres away. Seal Island is totally off limits to people with only the odd conservationist allowed on for observing the animals. These seals were in the true natural habitat and it was awesome to witness it.  After a few runs up and down the island, we headed back to the main jetty on Penguin Island where our 45 minute tour ended.

As its name suggests, the island is home to the Blue Penguin – the smallest of all 17 species of penguins. It gets its name from the blueish tint to its feathers. They are very shy creatures and hunt during the day and only come on land at night. So again, the chances of seeing any wild ones were pretty remote. However, the small Discovery Centre on the island is where ten captive penguins are kept. These were rescued from all sorts of problems from injuries to being orphaned and were not strong or savvy enough to be let back into the wild.

We had arrived just in time for their midday feed. Jane, one of the animal conservationists, came out with her head microphone and gave the audience a 30 minute interactive talk on theses cutest of cute creatures. She casually threw bits of fish into the pool to demonstrate the speed at which these penguins can zip about. Once on land, however, it was a very different story. This is where the infamous penguin waddle was demonstrated and despite being the youngest, Splash, at only 22 months stole the show. In fact, he was the only one tame enough for Jane to handle as the other ones apparently give some nasty bites with their beaks.

Having had our seal and penguin knowledge firmly fattened up, we headed to the main beach on east side of the island which faced the near-still waters of the bay. Here, the water was crystal clear. And after munching on a few snacks we had prepared earlier for lunch, Lezil and I put our newly purchased snorkelling equipment to the test. The ladies at the mainland ticket office were kind enough to have smeared our goggle lenses with toothpaste which, they told us, would prevent it from fogging up. It worked!

The island and sea may have been reminiscent of the Caribbean but underwater was a much simpler display. You could see an abundance of sea grass along with some fish but they were almost camouflaged with the beige coloured sand. Still, it was fun to do! I ventured in the water along the coast a bit when I got somewhat startled to come face to face with a fat male seal. Thankfully he was busy dozing in the sun but I wasn’t taking any risks after our tour guide warned us to keep a 10 metre distance should you come across one.

With about an hour left until the return boat ride, we packed up our snorkelling gear, put our flip flops on and went for a wander around the island itself. You had to stick to the boarded walk ways, again all in the name of preserving the island as much as possible. It was an excellent 2km loop which took you inland to various lookout points then to the other side – the much windier and exposed side. The sea was decidedly rougher with large rolling waves crashing into the sand and rocks.

Despite this being a big tourist pull for the area, it never felt overrun by gawking visitors.

A sure sign that my Chinese must be getting better became apparent the other day. A planned trip out to the country failed when our Tom Tom told us “…you have arrived at your destination…”. Lezil and I peered out of the car to see nothing but forest all around us with no Koala reserve in sight.

We drove on for another 15 minutes in the hope of finding an entrance but we came up empty. There was the odd road sign warning us to keep a look out for kangaroos, but that was it. It was getting late in the afternoon and technically there was only an hour left until the reserve closed, so we decided to postpone the visit for another day. (And look at a good old-fashioned map for the exact coordinates!) We headed back into Perth’s suburbs and made a pit-stop at a shopping complex. We decided to pick up some eats at Coles (a type of Australian Tesco). It was totally weird seeing shelf after shelf of Western food.

Back in Shanghai, not even 1% of what was sold there we could get our hands on and even then, it would be relegated to half an aisle of so-called ‘imported goods’. Of course, we came across some local produce including kangaroo meat. Now, that’s not so uncommon being in Australia and all. But what we saw was kangaroo meat for pets, in the frozen food section, in between the frozen pizzas and frozen dim sum. How pet food got grouped there, and of the kangaroo meat variety – beats me.

For some reason, they had run out on cucumbers. We paid for the rest of our items and near the mini shopping precinct exit was a small grocers.

I guessed by his Asian appearance and his accented Chinglish, that he must have been Chinese. I flipped into Mandarin mode. “Zhe shi yi yang de ma?” (Is this the same?) He stood back and starting flapping his hands like he had just won the state lottery. A flood of Mandarin came my way and I had to ask him to slow down. (I’m not that good yet!) He asked how I learnt to speak Mandarin and I told him that both Lezil and I are currently living in Shanghai. It was a fast-moving conversation with him firing all sorts of questions at me. My vocabulary is limited but I managed to get across what my profession is, why we were in Australia, how long the flight is between Shanghai and Perth and, strangely enough, what an average teacher’s salary in Shanghai is.

Perth and its 1.8 million population (practically a village by Chinese standards) was hardly going to overwhelm us. The city is so spread out that as we drove around through some of its suburbs, we kept asking “Where are the people?”.

Classified as one of the most isolated cities on earth, Perth is closer to Indonesia’s capital Jakarta than Australia’s capital Canberra. Perth is the main city of Western Australia and as a state, the population density works out at 0.9 people per square kilometre (Perth’s is at 300 people per sq km). Compare that to where we live in Shanghai where there are more than 3,600 people per square kilometre.

Day one and Lezil’s brother Jesse took us along the main beach drag in Perth. Call it beach hopping. First up there was City Beach. Granted it was a week day and most of the schools had started back from their summer break, but still, for a city centre hang out – the squawking sea gulls outnumbered the amount of sunbathers. Surprisingly, the waves were pretty big and the current strong. There were warning signs on the beach of ‘dumping waves’ which basically means, if you get caught in one just when its breaking – expect to be tossed about, a bit like being in a tumble dryer.

The lively movements of the ocean added to the fun as we swam in near-perfect water temperatures.  Semi-dried off, we placed our towels on our car seats as we headed up coast. Leaning towards its English heritage, a number of places around Perth have names that you’d find on a UK map.

There’s Maida Vale, High Wycombe, Bayswater, Bedford and, our next stop, Brighton Beach. Yes. England’s most famous south coast beach resort has its namesake thousands of miles away. But that’s where the similarities end.

The uncomfortable-to-walk-on UK shingle beach is now a smooth powder carpet of Australian sand grains. There was a little more action here with kite surfers taking advantage of the blustery conditions. Afterwards it was off to next door’s destination, Scarborough Beach which had a lovely long stretch which you could walk along. Going back towards the city centre, we wrapped things up at Cottesloe Beach. Here things were a lot more sheltered with its jetty shielding some of the bigger waves from coming into shore.

One thing that struck me about all of the city’s beaches thus far is how ‘underdeveloped’ things are. Each location had a tiny selection of cafés or shops but that was it. No mass tourism. It felt genuine, like it was meant more for people actually living in Perth, as opposed to just being made attractive for visitors. It was early evening and Lezil and Jesse decided to tuck into proper portion of Fish & Chips – something we don’t really get in Shanghai. I was still recovering from my bad stomach episode and so, I looked on as they wolfed down their chunky chips, Spanish Mackerel in batter, crab sticks and deep-fried calamari.

The following day and Lezil’s mum was kind enough to lend us her car (UK driving licences are valid for up to three months here). Packing in our beach gear and punching in some coordinates into the GPS, we joined the main No 2 Highway through the city centre and out the other end heading north. The scenery became decidedly more ‘bush’ with long periods where we would be the only car on a, literally, open road.

An hour’s drive went by as we turned off the highway down a minor road due for the coast. We didn’t have an exact clue where we were going but exploration was the fun of it. And our inquisitive spirits paid off. The road reduced significantly in size and curved about a few times to then reveal the glistening ocean out front and just below us, was a beautiful segment of beach with aqua green waters. This was, as the sign pointed out, Yanchep Lagoon.

The southern end of the beach had a reef a few metres off shore which acted as a handy buffer for the waves.

This made the swimming conditions ideal, evident by the pockets of young families enjoying the waters. We had a good swim followed by a picnic by the beach. I was on the last day of my ‘diet’ so I had to endure another helping of cold chicken soup with dry crackers and water. (Actually, it was pretty tasty!)

Back in the car, and we went further up to the next main town – Guilderton (population 150). This was one sleepy town whose main attractions included a lighthouse, a beach and its main pull the Moore River.

This river led right up to the Indian Ocean with just a thin sand bar separating it from becoming one. At high seas, the sand bar would break but, thankfully today this was not the case. Apart from a few people relaxing at a nearby caravan park, once we got onto the beach itself, we were literally the only ones there for miles around.

Beach towels spread out, we had a good afternoon nap. By this time it had clouded over which took the edge off the 31C heat. We had a snoop about, eventually reaching the town’s famed lighthouse which was fenced off to visitors. Slowly but surely, Shanghai’s frantic pace is easing out of our systems. Only to be replaced by Perth’s obvious laid-back approach to living. I envision many, many, many more beach days to come (I have to get my quota in for the year!).