skulking ground

Follow our family of Cunning(ham) Foxes on our turbulent travels around Oz

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Lady Banana Loves You

We made it to Perth. It’s been so long since I’ve written, I think I already wrote that. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten how to write. Feels a little forced on the page. Like a stockbroker on speed I’m talking shit. Good movie. The half I downloaded was anyway, for some reason whenever I download a movie I always seem to miss the ending out, which is annoying for everyone, except me because I already know the ending, it’s not there. The half I saw was good, reminded me of my early days as an 18 year old at the ASX, not quite as many hookers, but almost.

We’ve been in Perth maybe 3 weeks, saw through Christmas and New Year with gritted teeth. I’m a cynic when it comes to obligatory holidays, but it was actually really nice, like everyone else too much food and booze and belly ache till next year. We’ve been house sitting a cute little brick hut in suburban hell called Coolbellup with the ducks and the vege’s and the incontinent dog. It’s a nice change living someone else’s life. But dogs are hard work, they’re so needy we’ve decided against one. One of Jacob’s best mates lives around the corner, he’s a bit like a Great Dane puppy, all legs, endless energy, always chasing after some kind of ball. When he’s on his swing, back from the mines we cram the weeks into days, squeazing every milisecond into life, beach, parks, food and ball games. When he goes back to work our lazy bones sigh for a minute or two and catch their breath. Another crazy character that Jake knows is a deep sea diver and a mad spear fisherman, he was on the cover of SpearFishing Australia (or something like that) with a Spanish Mackerel he caught that was the same size as his alter ego… HUGE! I’ve always thought it would be better if the fish had guns too, much fairer fight. Anyway the guy caught the biggest Crays I’ve ever seen and we feasted like CEO’s on a million dollar yacht.

So far Fremantle has lived up to the hype, happy hippies cloaking the city in colour. Cool kids, sipping cold pressed coffees in shifting chintz and chambray on the Cappuccino Strip. An air of im-port-ance that sweats grease and smog, heaving shipping containers from yard to sea to somewhere. The city feels alive, not as much pomp as the Eastern states but it’s still a tween. There are so many places to take Bodhi, parks and playgrounds, markets, calm beaches and riverbanks with city views. I am getting attached, for the first time since we started, I wouldn’t mind if we stopped. I’ve got a job in a busy little cafe that’s funding the trip over the Nullabor and Jake’s doing the stay at home Dad thing. It’s only been 2 days and he’s bitten off all his nails and is starting to get a bald patch on top.

If you want to get to know a place, catch the bus.
Preferably with Nina Simone, everyone looks better in the reverb of soul.
Half-smoked cigarettes stink stale in yesterdays clothes.
The elderly straddle walking sticks and seats, guarding them with oversized bi-focals.
Loud lads screech to themselves about drink and benders and tits and fenders.
Young girls squeeze tight in dolls clothes, remind me of teenage summers when music and loud lads were on my mind. It’s getting harder to relate.