I woke late on 19th April, and felt a little groggy, but was none the worse for wear… I decided the best way to spend my last day in Australia would be to rent a bike and pedal round Rottnest Island. Leaving my backpack at the bike rental office I headed off to the lighthouse on the northeast corner (which evidently failed to warn the wrecked Denton Holme…) then on round along the rocky northern coast, eventually running out of island at the south west corner where a long promontory stuck out into the Indian Ocean.
I stopped for lunch in a deserted cove – deserted by humans that is. I was soon visited by the inquisitive little marsupials which give Rottnest Island its name. Rottnest (from “rat’s nest”) was how the original seafarers described the island’s large population of quokkas, which look like a cross between a kangaroo and a rat.
I listened in to the BBC news coming to me from a shortwave relay transmitter in goodness knows which part of the world, and then headed inland to where there was a little salt lake coloured slightly pink (it was called Pink Lake). A World War 2 gun emplacement (installed to defend the port of Freemantle) indicated that this wasn’t always such a peacefully laid back location.
Finally I was back at Thomson bay on the east coast, and after fish and chips (maybe the last for a while!) I caught the ferry over to Freemantle and back up the Swan River towards Perth, reading about Indonesia in my new guide book as I went. I checked into the Youth Hostel and after a productive bout of letter writing I settled down for my last night in Australia.
An early start on 20th April, and an efficient airport shuttle, got me to Perth’s international terminal with plenty of time. It was very quiet – I managed a leisurely breakfast and had time to get another letter written and posted, before the Garuda Airbus A300 taxied in. Then it was time to say goodbye to the comfortable, English speaking, somewhat expensive travelling style that I’d become used to over the last 6 weeks.
Just over 3 hours later, at 2 pm, I touched down in a very different world. The green tropical island of Bali had once seemed impossibly exotic and far away, yet now it is literally on my way home. I felt the humidity immediately – the like of which I haven’t really felt since the Ecuadorian coast, and even that was only for a few days before escaping back to the mountains. This time I will need to get used to it…
There was a message board in the airport, where Will Tappe (who I’d met in Guatemala, and was traveling to Bali at this time) had said he would try to leave a note. I checked but there was nothing. I left a note for him just in case, and then got a taxi motorbike towards the centre of Denpasar. There was a lot of English spoken – clearly this is a popular destination for Australian holidaymakers – most go to nearby Kuta Beach near the airport. I peered at Kuta as I was driving past…
However, my interest is the Balinese culture – Bali is a Hindu island in a Muslim country… and I’m looking forward to exploring it.