40 minutes by boat from Perth is Rottnest Island.  This is a very beautiful place.  A largely sand island, it is protected as a nature reserve.  The only vehicles allowed are service vehicles and buses.  Most people walk or cycle here, if not using the bus.  There is a small settlement (or village) as you arrive and some resort accommodation dotted around, but once away from the settlement, you are away from it all.

We’d chosen the New Year public holiday to visit.  Queuing outside the historic wharf buildings in Freemantle, a 7am ferry felt early, but there are literally thousands of us.  Each boat is full and like a smaller Isle of Wight ferry.  We approach the turquoise waters of the ‘harbour’ where hundreds of boats are moored on buoys, closer than seems sensible.  But a fine way to get here.  The beaches are as white as the two lighthouses.  I know what my second destination is.  After breakfast, of course.

Hire bikes, helmets, snorkel kit, wristbands (no, we didn’t work that one out either) collected, we fuel up.  Then we’re off for a leisurely pedal past the lagoons full of rare birds to the high lighthouse.  And it’s open.  Happy !  Not so happy about the endless flies buzzing round my head, though.  I’m not the world’s most confident cyclist, so I’m waving and wobbling a lot.  Swearing comes into it too.  The lighthouse guide hails from Abbots Langley, Watford.  He takes his duties very seriously indeed.  ‘No thongs (flip-flops) when climbing the stairs’.  In this heat ?  Whatever.  But the view from the top is super and the sea very tempting indeed.

Back on the road down we spot a few folks under a tree.  They wave us over.  Quokkas !  A family of them, including a couple of babies.  These are a small, rare marsupial found mostly on this island and are very cute looking.  Unbeknown to us there is a current craze for ‘Quokka selfies’.  They are quite unflustered by humans, so it’s sad when we later see small children chasing them endlessly, trying to feed them chips and ice-cream.  For now, these chaps are just inquisitive; one climbs on the leg of the man next to me as he kneels to take a photo !  No selfies here, then.

At the far western end of the island, we pose for pictures and go in search of a good beach.  Not hard, it’s a case of which one?  John picks a beauty and we jump into gin clear, warm water to cool off.   Hard to get out and back on a scorchingly hot bike.  (Top tip: put the helmet over the seat & when you return later you will not burn your cheeks..!)  Another cove provides good snorkelling and a huge shoal of mackerel, the big, Australian kind.  Cycling along the smell of a lemony/sagey/minty plant was overwhelming.  Like being in a jar of posh face cream.  I’m still jealous of the folks in boats.

This is a great family playground and reminds me of Ile de Re, although there are no donkeys in pyjamas on ‘Rotto’.  It’s also less ‘chic’, however a big hotel and a small but busy airfield are evidence some folks don’t slum a ferry ride to stay here.   Having earnt a beer, the hotel garden is tempting but is heaving and our chances of being served zero to nil.  We make the ice-cream shop with minutes to spare, but only 6 flavours remain.  I plump for Christmas Pudding, which seems vaguely appropriate.  A quokka with a baby in it’s pouch watches us devour our treats, but isn’t impressed with our shop bought beers.  Needs must.

Back in ‘Freo’ we satisfy our hunger with a visit to a local institution: ‘Cicerello’s’ fish & chips on the quay.  Opened by Italians in 1903, this is a huge place, adorned with tanks of fish and crustaceans all round the walls.  The service counters are reminiscent of motorway cafes of old, with a quick throughput.  We secure a place on the deck by the quay, buzzer on table.  We don’t have to wait long for it to go off and it’s worth it.  A great end to a great day. 

Thank you WA !