Time is our friend in Perth

My family and I just came back from a short trip to Perth, the capital and largest city of the state of Western Australia. 

It was a very pleasant trip mainly because life ambles along in Perth, which contrasts greatly with how it seems to be in danger of getting choked in the road and pedestrian traffic that gurgles and rushes to fill any gap in Metro Manila, where I live.

We're the only ones waiting for a free ride
on a blue CAT bus that will take us
to the Fremantle Markets.

First, there is no heavy traffic, even in the commercial business district of Perth. We ride bus after bus for free, and we don’t even line up to get on one. Perth provides zero-fare bus and train trips around the city center (the "Free Transit Zone"), including four high-frequency CAT (Central Area Transit) bus routes. 

Compare this with the line of people stretching along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA) to get a bus ride, with some even ignoring the danger posed by Manila’s major thoroughfare to break into a run and meet oncoming buses in an effort to get on first.  Add those waiting to get tickets to the Metro Rail Transit (MRT), whose line also snakes all the way down EDSA. 

In Perth, one can actually breathe. Look around. Walk. 

It isn’t just because we are on vacation mode.  The energy is different. People get to where they need to go; there’s just no tension about it.

The view from our room at the hotel, located
near the Elizabeth Quay of the City of Perth.

Maybe it’s because Perth is considered one of the most isolated major cities in the world, with the Indian Ocean on one side and the Australian outback on the other. The nearest city is Adelaide, which is over 2,092 kilometers away. There are some 2 million inhabitants, with about the same number of visitors in a year.

Everything closes at 5 p.m. OK, maybe not everything. Some at 5:30 p.m. and the few beyond that at 8 p.m.  I look forward to coffee after dinner and am aghast to find coffee joints closed. We get off a bus stop past 5 p.m. along St. Georges Terrace, Perth’s main street, and find stores and offices shuttered, even the main grocery chain Woolworths, where we had hoped to get some items we’d forgotten to pack. 

So we walk on, because in Perth, there are a lot of public, open spaces which we want to explore. Except that the cold, cold wind is against us. We are in Perth in September, on days when the temperature is recorded at a maximum 21 and a minimum 2 degrees Celsius. We are quickly disabused of the notion that it is better to walk late in the afternoon when the sun is low, and decide it is best to do so at noon when the sun is highest.

We see the Perth City skyline from Kings Park.

We quickly adjust to walking around, barely perspiring in the cool weather, even during hours of walking at Kings Park and Botanic Garden, which covers 400.6 hectares and is one of the largest inner city parks in the world. We are wowed by the views since Kings Park overlooks Perth City and the Swan River. But what holds our attention is the beauty, size and variety of the West Australian flora painstakingly planted and documented in the park’s cultivated gardens.

Hubby poses in front
of a 750-year-old (estimated)
Boab tree.

My daughter quickly gets lost taking picture after picture of the flowers and plants which catch her eye. Even my husband, whose only motivation for walking seems to be a game of golf, doesn’t complain. He points out the magpies and parrots that ignore us, chirping away as they arrange themselves on tree boughs and flutter to the ground every now and then. 

I look around and note the absence of ambulant vendors and food stalls, which pepper public open spaces like Luneta Park in Manila.  We agree that this is one of the reasons King’s Park retains the feel of a natural habitat, and remains pristine and clean even as my daughter remarks, “I could use a hotdog just about now.”

We visit the rest of the sites the same way, unhurried and in hand with Time: Elizabeth Quay; the Esplanade; the streets of Hay and Murray, where the malls are located; the markets and streets of Fremantle and Perth’s cultural center.

I am startled to see some men and children walking barefoot along city streets, in groceries and at the Fremantle markets. I understand that some people in Australia prefer to walk barefoot because they believe in a way of life that makes them feel more “free” yet connected to the land. I cringe inwardly at how unhygienic and unsafe it is, but that’s just me.

But I applaud at the way they take pride in things made and grown in Australia, as illustrated by the many signs put up in market stalls, cafes and other commercial establishments.  They have every reason to be proud of their produce.

At a market in Fremantle, I can only sigh at the sight of the

There are so many fruits and vegetables
we cannot bring home.

gigantic-sized bell peppers and the even larger sugar apple (atis), which I know I cannot bring home per a 2015 joint circular of the Department of Health, Food and Drug Administration, and the Bureau of Customs which prohibits bringing in fresh or frozen unprocessed foods - even in quantities for personal use - into the Philippines without prior clearance from the Department of Agriculture of the Philippines.

There’s a burst of energy on Friday nights, it seems.  The streets come alive as professionals break out of their offices to fill watering holes and end the week relaxing and drinking. We are not drinkers so we avoid the bars, even if we cannot escape the din from joints like Public House Perth along Adelaide Terrace which stretches all the way across the street.

With the St. Mary's Cathedral in the background.

The rest of the days, it goes back to slow, even crawling to a near stop on Sundays. A last-minute decision to visit Rottnest Island falls through so we decide to explore the heritage buildings on Perth’s east end after attending Mass at the nearby St. Mary’s Cathedral. 

Aside from the beauty of the church and the solemnity of the Mass, two things stand out to me: Majority of the boys who were installed as new choristers after the Mass bear Filipino surnames, and there are customized envelopes for tourists, allowing them to make contributions via credit card.

We take the time to buy souvenirs, confirming what we already know: In Perth, things are expensive. Because of Perth’s relative geographical isolation, you have to pay a bit more to cover the costs of freight and logistics in getting goods delivered. 

Too soon, it seems, the trip ends. We end the time warp we find ourselves in Perth and go back to busying, hurrying and running around in the humid, wonderful familiar that is our home country. 

But if given the chance to visit Perth again, we certainly will to explore the places we missed and catch up with friends we did not get to see. And yes, to renew the friendship we made with Time in Perth.