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Published: September 1st 2009
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Mon 31st of August 2009 Perth
This was a day for old and dear friends. First it was saying goodbye to the motorcycle at Boyz with Toyz. Not a name that instills confidence when ones life is on the line in the outback, but as you have learnt one must not judge by name alone. Brian (not Bruce as I had earlier suggested) looked at the back tire and said 5,000k. Apparently he could tell how far I had ridden based on tread wear relative to the new tire I had set of with. Smart guy, but the important thing is I got my $2000 deposit back.
Steve had followed me to the bike place, which was not a fancy store, but a bloke’s house where he kept the bike out the back. Perhaps Boyz are more sensible that they used to be, or at least have less money to throw around. Steve and I then spent the next 9 hours locked in conversation catching up on a large number of years and subjects. We started in a café in Fremantle, a suburb that I suppose is sort of what Oakland is to San Francisco, Fremantle is to Perth.
Originally the port, but now much more thanks, in this case, to a refurbishing when Australia won the America’s Cup and a place now considered trendy, with good bands in the pubs etc. If you do not recall, Australia won the America’s cup yacht race that only the very rich could enter and hence had been in the hands of the US for over 100 years. Looking like another washout the US was 3 nil up in a best of 7 contest against Australia, who had won the right to compete through elimination of other teams. I actually had a 100:1 bet at this point made at a party as suicidal fun. I collected $100. It was brilliant and the whole of Australia, who are a big supporter of the underdog, even when it is someone else, had a party (any excuse for a sports mad populace). That was followed by a refurbishment of Freemantle where the defense of (still to be called) America’s cup was to take place for the next 100 years. Problem is Australia lost the very next year and it came back to the US and my hometown of San Diego. But a precedent had been set and soon after New Zealand won it. I recall seeing a busload of totally trashed New Zealanders in Old Town San Diego the night the US lost it for a second time. Anyway the Cup seems to have left Freemantle a better place. This was followed by a café in Kings Park, a beautiful preserve overlooking the city with botanical displays from various parts of WA. It was nice to have seen many of them in their natural environment. This was followed by dinner in a fish restaurant in an inner suburb and lastly a nightcap in a trendy bar on Kings Street near my hotel (a good deal from hotels.com) in the center of Perth. By this time I was over fed and over talked, but content in the knowledge my good friend and I had at least caught up a bit.
Steve and I, both as immigrants to Australia from England (Birmingham and London, respectively) went through high school together, where we all specialized in taunting each other with nicknames. Stick (Steve) and Tub (me) and have stayed good friends ever since. We watched the landing on the moon together in 1969 while playing Risk. I think I was taking Irkutsk just as “one small step…” was uttered. Even after a five-month backpacking stint in Europe together in 1977 we remained close friends. Now we see each other every few years and when we meet it is like we saw each other just the previous day. A few more wrinkles, a few more grey and lesser hairs, but a zest for life and the ability to laugh heartily at the same things that amused us 44 years ago. Life does not get any better than that.
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fletch
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Well done that man
Always an achievement to complete a long motorbike ride and not A: develop haemorrhoids B; fall off it (usually whilst parking and then be trapped under it like John Wayne and dead horse) C: have mould growing in your clothes and D: not take up rolling your own fags. Mind you, I think you should re-title the blog “Bakery tour of Oz”. Still, who am I to talk? Nonetheless an excellent blog, a great trip I am sure, and mercifully free of Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance in its latter stages. See you soon. BTW Any idea who won the ashes this year?