Went on a tour of a rock lobster factory today, where lobsters are brought to for live export to (predominantly) Asian markets. The tour was absolutely free, despite the fact that the tourism guide said there would be a donation fee. They used to ask for a donation, and would then give it to charity, but they eventually decided that it was easiest to give the tours for free because they were running a $100 million per year money-spinner anyway. It was quite interesting to see all the different colours and sizes of the lobsters caught, and the strict rules they have on which are to be returned to the sea, which to discard, and which make it through the inspection process.

We were most surprised to note that they had no claws, as we had expected. We were envisioning these creatures as the large seafood animals with claws, but rock lobsters do not have the large pincers. At one point, the tour guide asked if anyone would like to hold one, and the only taker was Trav. I figured it would be the closest I come to a food source that expensive in the near-future…*grin* The tour lasted for an hour and we learned a great deal about something we’d never really thought about before.

One other important thing to note is that the start of the rock lobster season in Western Australia is the 16th March - Trav’s birthday. For the past two years, this one factory has brough in 64 tonnes of rock lobsters on the 16th March, and the entire holding capacity of the factory is only 90 tonnes, so they are flat-out for a few days at the start of the season.

Just south of Geraldton is a small town called Greenough. We passed through it on the way north, and noted all the horizontal trees. The only other thing in Greenough is the hamlet - a collection of 11 buildings constructed between about 1850-1860, when the area was first settled. The hamlet includes a school, church, police station, cells, courtroom, hall and a convent. It was very interesting to wander around inside the buildings which have been restored by the National Trust, and get an idea of the sort of machinery they worked the land with during that era. The only downside was the need for a serious spelling checker to go through the place with a fine-toothed comb. Trav’s biggest peeve is when words are spelled incorrectly, especially simple words like “scythe” (sith) and “convent” (comvet).

Having left the Greenough Hamlet, we rejoined our southward-bound route to Bunbury, but encountered a traffic hazard only a few kilometres down the road. An extremely large tractor was being transported down the road on the back of a semi-trailer, and the size of it was such that it was extending into the oncoming lane, despite being as far over as it could get. With three wheels on each axle, the vehicles coming the other way had to pull into the gravel to get past it, and given we had to pass this truck and tractor, it was not a task we were looking forward to. However, someone upstairs must have liked us, because the truck pulled off the road and we were able to get past it.

Nothing else interesting was found along the road back to Perth, seeing as it was the same road we’d previously travelled only a couple of days before. We discovered the people responsible for the roads of Western Australia had found a unique way to solve their problems. In a section of road between Gingin and Perth, there is a section of the highway that has become quite bumpy for some reason. Travelling at the 110 kph speed limit, vehicles could be thrown around a bit as they hit the lumps and potholes, so they needed a solution. One alternative to this situation would be to rip up the road and reseal the bitumen, creating a better road. The other alternative - and this is the one they chose - is to simply lower the speed limit for a couple of kilometres, from 110kph to 90kph. Although the cost of two speed-reduction signs would be less than resealing the section of road, we’re still not sure it’s a professional approach to road safety…

Further on down the road, as we entered the outskirts of Perth on the Great Northern Highway, we found that roadworks to solve the bumpy road might not be a good idea after all. We ended up behind a long line of traffic following a bus which was travelling at 55kph, in a 110kph zone. The reason for not being able to get past was that there were roadworks areas along the road, spaced at exactly the wrong places, so that every time there was a chance to pass due to no oncoming traffic, a water truck would wander down the road at a snail’s pace. After driving under these conditions for 30 kms, it was concluded that we needed large weaponry to remove the bus from the road and let us all past.

It is always interesting to go to another part of the country and see how different things are. People in Perth are much more relaxed and laid-back than those in Melbourne, and the driving style is exactly the same. We saw things in Perth we’d never see in Melbourne, such as everyone happily driving along in the fast lane at 20kph below the limit. Nobody was tooting or flashing their lights, although Trav was muttering a few curses under his breath. Traffic lights would change to green and neither of the front two cars would move off from the lights for maybe four or five seconds, and yet, nobody would get upset. It seemed so odd to drive in Perth, after the far more aggressive style of Melbourne had trained Trav to a different level.

A town between Perth and Bunbury called Brunswick Junction found itself our next destination. Because the surrounding area is predominantly dairying country, the local service clubs erected a statue of a cow in the main street. We had to get out and pose with it, simply because it was there. A few local kids were over the other side of the road, and Trav was tempted to get them to come over and kneel in front of the cow, as though worshipping an idol. Unfortunately, we decided they would want to be paid, and today’s kids would not think much of $2 between five kids. Sigh. I remember, in my day…*blah blah blah*

Found the caravan park in Bunbury without too much trouble, although it was bordering on getting dark, so there was a bit of a rush to get the tent up. With no other campers in the park, we decided to go and watch the X-Files in the recreation room, to let Trav get his weekly fix. We were sitting in the room quietly watching the TV at 10:00pm, when a woman came charging in the door in a very aggressive manner, semi-yelling, semi-asking “what did the Boss say when he let you in here?”. We both looked at one another and thought hard because all he had said at the time was to lock up the doors and turn off the lights when we left. We pointed this out, and she told us that we were not supposed to be in there after 9pm. We offered to leave, but she backed off from the whole argument as she realised that we had not been told about the curfew. We figure that “the Boss” would have copped an earful when she found him, and maybe made him feel like he was not the Boss after all…*chuckle*

Interestingly, we ran into the Swiss travellers from Monkey Mia again in the Bunbury Caravan Park, although their numbers were now depleted, with one of the girls leaving. Apparently she was not originally travelling with them, and they’d found her just standing crying in the Perth airport upon their arrival. She had been on the same flight as them but did not know anyone in Australia or on the flight. They recognised her as having been on the same flight and had offered her a chance to travel with them, because she expressed a desire to get straight back on the plane home.

After the drive to Monkey Mia though, she got them to drop her off at the Perth airport again and she flew home because she did not like the countryside. The main problem for her was that it looked nothing like Switzerland, which we thought was actually the point of travelling, as did the remaining Swiss travellers. Ah well, it cost her roughly $(AUD)3000 to see the dolphins in Monkey Mia, so we hope the dolphins were impressed by her visit, even if she wasn’t. Given she was in the country for only 3 days, we doubt she got her $1000 per day value…

Onward to Margaret River tomorrow…

Categories: Travel, WA 1999