For those about to blog

I love it when a plan comes together

Hi, does this boarding pass give me access to this lounge?

Have you just transferred from an international flight?

No, I haven’t.

Then I’m afraid not Sir.

OK, I thought so. So, I have a BA Executive Club card, now this one is blue but I’ve been travelling for the last two weeks and should by now have been updated to silver, is it possible for you to check that for me?

Sure thing. [tappity tappity tappity] Oh wow, whoa, my God. Sir, with that itinerary you can come straight in. Jeez, look at all these places!

Perth the wait

I’ve got a fantastic view from my hotel room. Sat in the Crowne Plaza in Perth right now, overlooking the Swan river, a big bit of greenery, and the hotel’s swimming pool. The weather is glorious and it’s twenty to five in the afternoon. Internet access in this room doesn’t seem to have a per-megabyte charge associated with it and therefore I’m going to kick off uploading all the photos I took in Auckland, even though an awful lot of them are average and/or very samey. Hopefully some people are big fans of lava and water and big towers.

First impressions of Perth are embarrassing, in that I feel pretty … sophisticated. Me! I’m obviously being unfair but the experiences so far have been: arrive at the domestic airport, where people were being met directly at the gate, there’s no security (or immigration, obviously) and baggage reclaim is landside in a public bit that anyone could wander off the streets and get to; and getting a cab to the hotel driven by a guy who thinks blacks are ruining every city in the world, it’s ridiculous that in London “every 10 people are 5 black faces and 5 white faces” walking down Oxford Street (insight courtesy of his London-dwelling daughter), and that they’re not content with killing each other and destroying their own countries.

I was very glad his tirade occurred immediately prior to turning into the hotel, where we encountered a guy reversing out of a bit you’re not allowed to reverse out of. I’m pretty confident this place can’t possibly be a virulently racist city but if it is, well, I’m glad I’m white and from Australia’s fatherland.

Only 7 hours in the future now. Think I’ll go out and see if I can’t find the town centre, something to eat, and some beer.

Carried on being a night prowler and eventually I was back in business, in an area with a few bars in it. But they were all heaving and I was tired. So in the end I didn’t bother going in any. It was quite a trek back to the hotel anyway. Actually en route, far closer than the town centre, I had come across a pub, but it was called Fenian’s Bar and I checked the politics of that word with Mark – couldn’t remember if it meant I’d be lauded or bombed, turns out the latter is more likely. Not that I imagine for a moment it was a genuine Irish republican hangout, but still. Don’t want to go breaking the rules and getting kicked in the teeth.

So back at the hotel I sat at the bar and had a couple of drinks. Thought about having a whiskey on the rocks but beer was a better idea. I can recommend the Matilda Bay Redback wheat beer.

Fantastic cruise it was. Perth’s skyline is really nice, the Swan river is gorgeous, and the weather was perfect. Learnt a few bits and bobs from the commentary – 1 in 3 families in the Perth area has a boat, the Swan river is about the size of Sydney harbour but only 4 metres deep for much of it so unusable for boating, Western Australia has a population of 2 million but is 3 times the size of Texas, or 100 times the size of Singapore (which has a population of 4 million!), and stuff. Best bit of the trip was when we were twice accompanied by dolphins swimming alongside us, playing in our wake, and just generally being visible. Couldn’t get any photos ‘cos I hadn’t managed to get a decent seat on the boat, having boarded late because I was busy trying to source some diet coke.

Walked for another 5 minutes or so, the heat was too much and I was still in the town centre, so I waited for a bus. The 146 local bus, not a touristy thing at all, got me up to the cemetery. I took AGES walking around the graves, not having the faintest idea how to go about finding the prize. I tried to channel Bon into telling me where he was, but to no avail, and was just about to give up (in fact I’d SMSed Kevin to tell him I was doing so) when a posse of gardeners appeared, asked if I was looking for Bon Scott’s grave, and drove me to it in their little wagon.

OK. This is hard work. I’m not littering the rest of this entry with AC/DC song titles. Last two thoughts about the cemetery though: the space next to Bon is empty, which made me wonder if there’s a money making opportunity to be made in graveyards worldwide – “be buried next/near to [celeb X]!”; and it’s bad form to take the piss out of the dead, probably, but I’ve got a message for dear departed Doris: in the next life, don’t marry someone with a surname of Norris.

Went round the corner to the bus stop and waited. And waited. And waited. Every time a bus appeared on the horizon my hopes were raised (the only bus going along that road was the one I wanted), and every time they were dashed as a bus numbered 000, going to “out of service” thundered past. I went so far as to swear out loud as the third 000 approached, only for him to stop, let me on, and take me where I wanted to go. “I’m out of service mate, you can’t pay me. Where you going?” Sweet.

The long trawl out of town (I swear it only goes along this particular road because the restaurants pay them to) gave me the chance to read some of the local rag I’d been carrying around with me, and hey presto there was a special supplement going on about the best places and things to eat and drink in the Perth area. Taking my lead from its recommendations I went to Clancy’s Fish Pub and had a Feral White beer. Very nice, both of ’em.