In a nutshell, I had a glorious time in W.A. I enjoyed everything! Michelle’s father, Doug, took me on a tour of the immediate farm area showing me equipment and also his prides and joys - several classic tractors in varying states of disrepair. A stock list I compiled with his help ran thus: International A414, New Look, Hart Parr (several), 1921 ‘20’, Lanz Bulldog ‘L’, Oliver 80 & 90, McCormick Dearing WD9, International Bulldozer BTD6, oh yes, and a Famous 4HP Petrol/Kerosene stationary engine. A couple of weeks later on my last arvo (afternoon) on the farm I spent listing the vehicles scattered around, closely accompanied by Tricksy the dog and Hughy the sheep.

All the vehicles were left where they had gone bung (ceased to function). This list ran thus: Chevy flatbed truck, Holden Belmont station wagon, Vauxhall Victor (2), Holden 186 saloon, Holden panel van, Morris Commercial 6 cylinder petrol flatbed trucks (3), ditto Austin (2) and a Honda moped. I returned to England with a souvenir; a number plate with "W.A. State of excitement" on it. Doug’s shed (barn) proved to be a journey of discovery for me as I poked around unidentifiable tractor parts, tools, and loads of paraphernalia. I mentioned to him that a friend at work could lose himself for a fortnight in there. Michelle’s mother who overheard, remarked that anyone could lose themselves amongst that junk for a fortnight! Doug lent me a book; "Blokes and Sheds" from which I learnt more about the Australian way of life. A bloke’s shed is personal, his private domain, somewhere to escape to and also a place where he can let his talents reign. I found it encouraging that ladies have rooms too, for the same reasons, where handicrafts to photography can be practised. My local library says this book is unavailable in Britain. Shame, perhaps we could have learnt something!

One of the Austin commercials had a strange bracket on the driver’s door which allowed a rod to pivot. It was not until I saw a complete one did I realise that this was an early indicator - open the window, pull the rod down and the far end came up with a cutout of a hand to indicate one’s intention to turn right! All the vehicles had suffered at the rays of the sun. Anything soft either melted or became brittle. Most car dash boards had a tailored cover to protect them. Michelle’s car, the twenty year old Mazda, had no covering on the tops of the doors, the seat covers were disintegrating as were the seats below and also the rear parcel shelf. This had been reduced to dust, as we found out when the covering rug fell off at speed allowing the incoming air to fill the car with a dry brown dust which settled on our clothes and got in our mouths and eyes.

In this car, (model and engine size no one knew) Michelle and I travelled the 500 kilometres to the south coast. She thought it had a two-point-something engine and in conjunction with the auto box made it a thirsty car; 22-25 mpg was the norm. In addition Michelle had forgotten how many times the speedo had gone round the clock. Before my arrival it was hinted that we might have the use of her father’s Troopy, (4wd Toyota Landcruiser, a two door version with seating for around ten, i.e. a troop carrier). With a roof mounted tent that folded out and down one side it was an ideal touring vehicle. Unfortunately it had gone bung a couple of weeks earlier when the gearbox mainshaft broke, a weakness that becomes apparent around 150,000 kilometres. I found the journey south as exciting as any I have been on. The roads were long, straight and empty. Through the Stirling Ranges we took a Tourist Route of 41 kilometres of unsealed road, the mud and dust soon turning the white car red with the soft rear springs bottoming out due to the uneven road. The beautiful scenery, the blue sky and the solitude of W.A. grabbed me in such a way that England now seems claustrophobic in comparison. I loved the small towns we drove through where parking is literally free and easy in the wide high streets; streets wide and empty enough to chuck Ueys in. (Do U turns). What is not allowed is parking on the right, i.e. facing oncoming traffic.

W.A.’s natural beauty is truly outstanding. I saw rainbows galore around Albany, (the Rainbow Coast,) tall Karri, Jarrah and Tingle trees in the Valley of the Giants near Walpole and also around Pemberton. I even received a certificate for climbing the Gloucester Tree, a 61m (200ft) fire lookout tree. Access to the top is gained by climbing up metal spikes driven into the side of the tree. Each upward spike is slightly forward of the previous one, so in climbing the tree one also circumnavigates it as well. Meeting someone coming down was no fun as we squeezed by! Three quarters of the way up I stopped and looked down through the rungs - a BIG mistake! Once at the top five minutes passed before I could release my hold of the rail to take a photo. As I am not keen on height with little security it was with a sense of a relief and accomplishment that I returned to the ground.

Several forest walks were undertaken during which I felt I was in a tropical rainforest with thick damp vegetation and colourful birds flying about. W.A. is renowned for its natural beauty and CALM, (the department of Conservation and Land Management works hard to keep it that way.

Returning to Perth 1600 kilometres after leaving the farm, we stayed with another of Michelle’s sisters. Her husband Ian took great delight in showing me his car, a 1972 Holden 210 with the number plate IAN 210. The 210 refers to the engine size of 210 cu ins, around 3.3 litres I was told. This was in near perfect condition, ran on LPG as well as petrol and I want one! It was big, (think Yank style) with lowered suspension and wide wheels, was good to look at and ride in! The next day was spent in another interesting vehicle, an OKA, pronounced ocker as in locker.

This is a locally produced 4WD vehicle, larger and higher than Land Rovers and Land Cruisers and seated thirteen in relative comfort. The Perkins turbo diesel was mounted under floor at the front giving the front of the OKA a very slab appearance. The Australian Navy use them which is a recommendation. Whilst the other passengers climbed the steps into the main passenger compartment, I had the front door opened for me by Richard, the owner driver and I enjoyed the views from the front seat. He knew Michelle’s aunt and uncle which may have explained the preferential treatment. Richard was a quiet man, quite the opposite to the two Land Cruiser drivers who accompanied us on this trip north from Perth to the Pinnacles Desert.

These vehicles took a hammering on the rocky tracks and it was a relief to travel along the smooth beach where we stopped for lunch. I got talking to a young lady from South Africa who surprised me by not only having heard of Braintree, where I live, but also having lived there herself for eighteen months!

En route we, or more precisely the drivers, had fun on the sand dunes, climbing seemingly impossible dunes and plunging down the other side. The sand was white and even with a cloudy sky was very tiring on the eyes. We also stopped at a Blackboy forest. Blackboys are extremely slow growing grass trees, impervious to bush fires and can best be described as short stocky trees with a head of coarse grass. Some on Michelle’s farm are estimated to be around 2000 years old! The Pinnacles Desert consisted of thousands of limestone rock projections up to two metres tall. In the low winter sun they looked quite dramatic against the bright yellow sand. The return journey was mostly by sealed road where the OKA showed that it had a good turn of speed.Whilst in Perth I called into the spacious RAC offices with the aim of buying a stylish W.A. RAC badge for the Vulgar Velo. No worries! My LE now sports an attractive RAC badge totally unlike the British one, and with W.A. stamped on it. Unfortunately the caretaker at work asked if it stood for Worn and Ancient.

One day I visited York, in the Shire of York - I kid you not. It was the first town to be settled in the area and it had an interesting (but by British comparisons, short) history. I spent a couple of hours in the car museum, billed as Australia’s finest. I could not dispute that. Its three halls housed around seventy cars and ten motorcycles. Here are a few names to test your knowledge: 1952 Tatra Tatraplan T600, 1906 Holsman Motor Buggy, 1910 Bedelia Cycle Car, 1958 Cadillac El Dorado Biaritz convertible (park it with the hood down and should it rain the hood will close automatically!)

Everyday was outstanding in one way or another. One of my favourites was spent on Rottnest Island, a quick boat ride from Perth. The sea was the most beautiful and tranquil I have ever seen. No cars are permitted on the island so we, (me, Michelle and her sister Heather) hired cycles. The sun was glorious, the scenery captivating and the wildlife ......... different. Rottnest is the home to Quokkas, small marsupials which from a distance look like giant rats, so the early settlers thought. They are a rare and carefully protected animal only found in W.A. who would come out of the bush probably hoping for a feed (not allowed).

The last couple of days I spent on or around the farm which I found immensely enjoyable and relaxing. Some of my fondest memories were made then, such as a walk by starlight. There was no moon and the stars were bigger, brighter and more numerous than I have ever seen before. One day it was suggested that I helped Michelle’s father with the crutching of around six hundred sheep. My job would have been to sort any clean wool from the dags (It was suggested that I helped Michelle’s father as he sheared the rear of the sheep. My job would have been to sort any clean wool from the soiled.) Michelle had other plans for which I was grateful!

On my last day Michelle drove me to the airport where we had a last hug and I disappeared through into Departures, feeling more than a little sad. The flight home was tiresome, despite three good films being screened.

Back home Vulgar is sporting its Western Australia RAC badge, my photographs have been developed and life is returning to normal, i.e. work at the uni, church activities, coach and ambulance driving and all the other tasks that we fill our lives with. I knew I would experience post holiday blues, it is just that I did not expect them to be as long or as deep as this! A letter arrived from W.A. in which Michelle said that the man at the Perth airport car park asked how she was. She replied that airports are horrible places and the comment came back that they are either very happy or very sad places. I’ll second that.

What impressions did Oz and Aussies leave on me? Warmth, friendliness, openness, down to earth, kind, generous, perhaps not tolerating fools gladly, a land of functionality – nothing superfluous, where family and friendships come before material possessions – the list could be endless. Will I return? I don’t know. I saw Oz as a tourist and as a guest and no doubt it would be different to work and live there. As I write, (September ’98) Michelle is back in England until early ‘99 when she returns to Oz for good. Now that will be a sad day.

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