Rottnest Island
You know how in tourism advertisements for warm places like Australia, they always show white sandy beaches, clear blue water, and girls in bikinis? And sure, you think, those things exist -- but surely that's an optimistic or idealistic view of the destination. Those places must be remote, or few and far between, or cost a pretty penny to get to. Well as it turns out, they are here in Australia, and not just here and there, but everywhere! It's hard to believe it when you see it -- that water can be that clear, sand that soft, girls that skinny.
Oh, and they have yachts too.
Rottnest Island is 18km from Perth, closest to the port city of Fremantle. There's even a swim across the channel for crazy people (hello, sharks?).
"The island was given the name "Rattenest" (meaning "rat's nest" in the Dutch language) by the Dutch fleet captain Willem de Vlamingh on 29 December 1696. De Vlamingh described the indigenous marsupial, called a quokka, as a large rat." (source)
I took the train into Perth, changed trains to get to Fremantle, and biked the short distance to the ferry terminal. There are no private vehicles allowed on the island, so everyone gets around by foot or bike (which you can hire on the island if you don't have your own). This sounds lovely and environmentally friendly, and it is, but stop and think for a moment about the potential for up to 5000 daily visitors and no vehicles... yes, you get bike traffic jams! And of greater concern, people thinking they are exempt from road rules and driving on the wrong side, not yielding, stopping suddenly, etc., as well as the unpredictable nature of children on bikes. I nearly got into about ten accidents. However, I had to laugh when James pointed out that this is nothing compared to the Bangkok traffic scene (he just spent 6+ weeks there).
Upon arrival, I biked up to a little viewpoint to have some lunch.
Within seconds, a bold lizard scurried out and looked expectantly at me, obviously hoping for scraps.
Then her chubby boyfriend came out.
Maggie had once described a lizard that looked the same from the front as the back -- a "Stumpy-Tail Lizard" -- and I thought this might one... but upon researching it when I got home, it seems to be a King Skink. During my research, though, I found this amazing Thorny Devil Lizard. How cool is he?
They must be a pair to get along so well, but they look quite different!
The viewpoint was looking at the salty lakes, believed to have been part of the sea before the sea level rose.
See the pink tinge? That's caused by algae, apparently.
The chain came off my bike repeatedly as I tried to come back down to the townsite, and at one point it got jammed in the back gears and the bike came to a screeching halt. Good thing I wasn't going very fast, or I would have been "tail over tea kettle" for sure. I was going to join a walking tour to find some Quokkas, but thanks to having to stop three times to fix the chain (I eventually worked out that it couldn't be in a high gear), I missed the walk. But my disappointment was quickly rectified as I set out on my own and whizzed by a family gathered by the roadside, only to take a second look and realize that they were interacting with some Quokkas. The people were being naughty and feeding them crackers and petting them, both of which are illegal. I waited til they left and then snapped some pictures. They are marsupials, like kangaroos, but are far less widespread; in fact, they are only found on four predator-free islands now, including Rottnest.
You can see why the Dutch thought "Ahh, GIANT RATS" when they first saw them.
But... lookit how cute!
Mr. Quokka is thinking about going snorkelling with me later.
They are usually found in groups for maximum cuteness.
On the road again, along with the dozens of other cyclists and pedestrians.
I rode north up to Longreach Bay first, and there were lots of cabins there and subsequently lots of people on the beach.
That's where the first picture in this post was taken, along with this:
A nice archway of trees leading up to a lighthouse.
Bathurst Lighthouse.
I then biked back to the townsite and way beyond (south),
and other people soon became few and far between.
Porpoise Bay.
Just after this, I met up with a couple from Sydney who were also biking.
We ended up at Little Salmon Bay and they decided to water was too "cold" to go snorkelling,
but they watched my stuff while I bravely went in for a swim (but first I let my legs recover from biking about 10km).
The current was fairly strong, and since I was swimming by myself, I stayed fairly close to shore (as nice as that couple was, I don't think they felt accountable enough to me that they would jump in and save me should I start drifting away). There was a really neat feature in this bay -- underground plaques with info on the nearby coral and likely species of fish. Unfortunately, those were farther out and I didn't get to see them, but still, what a great idea! I did see a few neat fish in the coral near the shore, and the perfectly clear water made the visibility incredible.
The couple had to head back to return their rented bikes, but I continued on along a loop and the view just got better.
Salmon Bay.
I went down onto the beach and found it deserted, save for two others.
It was so incredibly beautiful -- and calmer here, despite it being a larger bay.
My footprints were the only ones.
Self-timer fun!
I then reluctantly started back to the townsite to catch the last ferry.
The last picture of the day is one of the cute cabins.
I can definitely see why "Rotto" is a favourite holiday destination for Perth-ites. Perth is lovely in itself, with lots of great beaches and snorkelling too, but the island has a certain charm about it and its beauty is simply exponential.
When the ferry got back to Fremantle, I contemplated exploring a bit more now that I had the bike, but decided I had really already seen what I wanted to see the other day on foot, and so just went straight to the train station. Just as I finished buying my ticket, a grumpy half-toothless man with pop bottle glasses came up behind me and growled, "Move that hunk of shit!", referring to the bike. Hmph! I didn't say anything to him, and good thing I didn't, because even though I went to the farthest down car, he just had to come and sit right across from me. He then proceeded to talk to himself for the next 20 minutes. He grumbled about everything from the squealing brakes ("Needs some oil!") to disliking the names of the stations we stopped at. I had to smile when he got off in Subiaco... maybe he was my "55 but looks much younger" email stalker (I didn't post about that publicly -- if you weren't in on that, email me for a laugh!).
Oh, and they have yachts too.
Rottnest Island is 18km from Perth, closest to the port city of Fremantle. There's even a swim across the channel for crazy people (hello, sharks?).
"The island was given the name "Rattenest" (meaning "rat's nest" in the Dutch language) by the Dutch fleet captain Willem de Vlamingh on 29 December 1696. De Vlamingh described the indigenous marsupial, called a quokka, as a large rat." (source)
I took the train into Perth, changed trains to get to Fremantle, and biked the short distance to the ferry terminal. There are no private vehicles allowed on the island, so everyone gets around by foot or bike (which you can hire on the island if you don't have your own). This sounds lovely and environmentally friendly, and it is, but stop and think for a moment about the potential for up to 5000 daily visitors and no vehicles... yes, you get bike traffic jams! And of greater concern, people thinking they are exempt from road rules and driving on the wrong side, not yielding, stopping suddenly, etc., as well as the unpredictable nature of children on bikes. I nearly got into about ten accidents. However, I had to laugh when James pointed out that this is nothing compared to the Bangkok traffic scene (he just spent 6+ weeks there).
Upon arrival, I biked up to a little viewpoint to have some lunch.
Within seconds, a bold lizard scurried out and looked expectantly at me, obviously hoping for scraps.
Then her chubby boyfriend came out.
Maggie had once described a lizard that looked the same from the front as the back -- a "Stumpy-Tail Lizard" -- and I thought this might one... but upon researching it when I got home, it seems to be a King Skink. During my research, though, I found this amazing Thorny Devil Lizard. How cool is he?
They must be a pair to get along so well, but they look quite different!
The viewpoint was looking at the salty lakes, believed to have been part of the sea before the sea level rose.
See the pink tinge? That's caused by algae, apparently.
The chain came off my bike repeatedly as I tried to come back down to the townsite, and at one point it got jammed in the back gears and the bike came to a screeching halt. Good thing I wasn't going very fast, or I would have been "tail over tea kettle" for sure. I was going to join a walking tour to find some Quokkas, but thanks to having to stop three times to fix the chain (I eventually worked out that it couldn't be in a high gear), I missed the walk. But my disappointment was quickly rectified as I set out on my own and whizzed by a family gathered by the roadside, only to take a second look and realize that they were interacting with some Quokkas. The people were being naughty and feeding them crackers and petting them, both of which are illegal. I waited til they left and then snapped some pictures. They are marsupials, like kangaroos, but are far less widespread; in fact, they are only found on four predator-free islands now, including Rottnest.
You can see why the Dutch thought "Ahh, GIANT RATS" when they first saw them.
But... lookit how cute!
Mr. Quokka is thinking about going snorkelling with me later.
They are usually found in groups for maximum cuteness.
On the road again, along with the dozens of other cyclists and pedestrians.
I rode north up to Longreach Bay first, and there were lots of cabins there and subsequently lots of people on the beach.
That's where the first picture in this post was taken, along with this:
A nice archway of trees leading up to a lighthouse.
Bathurst Lighthouse.
I then biked back to the townsite and way beyond (south),
and other people soon became few and far between.
Porpoise Bay.
Just after this, I met up with a couple from Sydney who were also biking.
We ended up at Little Salmon Bay and they decided to water was too "cold" to go snorkelling,
but they watched my stuff while I bravely went in for a swim (but first I let my legs recover from biking about 10km).
The current was fairly strong, and since I was swimming by myself, I stayed fairly close to shore (as nice as that couple was, I don't think they felt accountable enough to me that they would jump in and save me should I start drifting away). There was a really neat feature in this bay -- underground plaques with info on the nearby coral and likely species of fish. Unfortunately, those were farther out and I didn't get to see them, but still, what a great idea! I did see a few neat fish in the coral near the shore, and the perfectly clear water made the visibility incredible.
The couple had to head back to return their rented bikes, but I continued on along a loop and the view just got better.
Salmon Bay.
I went down onto the beach and found it deserted, save for two others.
It was so incredibly beautiful -- and calmer here, despite it being a larger bay.
My footprints were the only ones.
Self-timer fun!
I then reluctantly started back to the townsite to catch the last ferry.
The last picture of the day is one of the cute cabins.
I can definitely see why "Rotto" is a favourite holiday destination for Perth-ites. Perth is lovely in itself, with lots of great beaches and snorkelling too, but the island has a certain charm about it and its beauty is simply exponential.
When the ferry got back to Fremantle, I contemplated exploring a bit more now that I had the bike, but decided I had really already seen what I wanted to see the other day on foot, and so just went straight to the train station. Just as I finished buying my ticket, a grumpy half-toothless man with pop bottle glasses came up behind me and growled, "Move that hunk of shit!", referring to the bike. Hmph! I didn't say anything to him, and good thing I didn't, because even though I went to the farthest down car, he just had to come and sit right across from me. He then proceeded to talk to himself for the next 20 minutes. He grumbled about everything from the squealing brakes ("Needs some oil!") to disliking the names of the stations we stopped at. I had to smile when he got off in Subiaco... maybe he was my "55 but looks much younger" email stalker (I didn't post about that publicly -- if you weren't in on that, email me for a laugh!).