The weather in Perth is a dry heat, one I could get used to. Like the land around it the buildings are dust coloured and sit next to each other in muted reds and creams. Our hotel is right on the road, resting next to an intersection at which people seem to enjoy starting honking wars. I had thought I was fairly immune to the sounds of traffic but perhaps it is the combination of the heat, the time zone and the cars which wake me up in the night.
For all that I am not overly tired - not yet. That will come as the pace of work begins to pick up. I am on day shift this week which looks to entail very early morning starts and early-to-mid evening finishes. Here is where my mettle will be truly tested. Yes... I am here with work. And that is all I can tell you about it.
Yesterday Nodnol and I went out to a place just a little south of Perth, called Fremantle. I hope to find the time to right about that too - perhaps in the very next post. But there is a lot of pressure to spend most free hours socialising with the rest of the detachment. I think on the whole this is a good thing - it facilitates the development of a strong bond between us all. But it is something I will have to manage. I need to balance the social aspects with my need to be quiet and by myself at times in order to recharge. Last night, for example, was a quiet time for Sez - a movie, some music, and some eggs on toast. The night before however was a different story.
We went out to sample the Perth nightlife (because Thursday was only a sampling of the Irish bars on St Paddy's day, and it seemed to be the same as an Irish bar anywhere in the world on St Paddy's day.) Two of us left the hotel bitterly unprepared for the formality required at most bars and we really should have known better. I, myself, had only in mind dinner at a restaurant in mind when I put on shorts and jandals, (sorry, flip-flops/things) and had not considered that we would be going out on the town afterwards. More fool me. Both Barry and I were the usual cause for our inability to get into most bars on account of our lack of trousers and on one account my footwear. Black Betty's denied everyone entry on account of our New Zealand driver's licences being "too easy to forge."
We left that place in a hurry after one argumentative gal told the black bouncer he was being racist.
Shortly after however we found the place of my dreams. I cannot even remember what it was called (I'm not sure I even looked at the sign when I walked in the door) but even from 20m up the street I knew I was going to like it. That's because I could hear the beautiful sounds of the live jazz orchestra enlivening the sidewalk. It was a beautiful thing, and I was even allowed in wearing my jandals. Once inside it became clear the band was really playing swing music. And they were accompanied by dancers.
Tall dancers, dark dancers, dancers with curly hair and dancers wearing the most beautiful period skirts and hair styles. The bar was definitely split into those dancing and those watching, but the atmosphere was fun and friendly and I didn't want to leave. The men would ask a different woman to dance for each new song, and although the dancing area seemed a bit crowded they managed to miss each other quiet well. I have resolved to find a place in Auckland and learn to swing dance. It may well be the answer to my fitness. Seemed a lot more fun than running and possibly a hell of a lot more exhausting.
Well let me end with a couple of photos, they were the only good ones I took on the night and they are the beer coasters at this swing-dancing-live-music bar of Perth.