CHAPTER 36
The double act had dropped me off at the North Terminal, ready for the Emirates flight. I had dumped my hold bag the previous evening, so it was just a matter of working my way step by step through security, and then switching my brain off while waiting for the call to a gate, then repeating the process at said gate, lined up in banks of chairs with backs that sloped too much for comfort.

Onto the plane, thankfully to one of a pair of seats rather than a row of three, and settle my odds and sods for the long slog. Daylight over Europe became night over the Persian Gulf, followed by a too-long stay in the shithole that is Dubai airport.

I still bought a new digital SLR camera, though. And its friends the compact Olympus and that simple underwater camera. Bugger my UK Customs allowances; I wasn’t going back for at least three months, so sod it.

Oh yeah: I got a watch as well, and a bottle of single malt for Kul. It was only one of Glenmorangie’s offerings, but I felt sure he wouldn’t say no. Easily pleased, that man.

I suppose it was my way of clearing my mind of images of Australian lizards waiting on the roadside by the corpse of their mate. New things to see, new things to snap, familiar things to sup..

Onto the plane for the last and longer leg, off into the darkness and away from the avarice, the cabin display cycling from ‘Where we are’ through ‘Where Mecca is’ and back again. I pulled my sleep mask over my eyes, set my ear buds in place and did my best to drift away with some Sigur Ros.

Shit! Where was I? On a plane, with the blinds going up as the breakfast trolleys came round. The scrolling map said we were somewhere over the Indian Ocean, so once my tray was cleared, I settled down to stare out of my window at, well, sweet FA. In the end, I gave up looking at an unchanging ocean and pulled my sleep mask over my eyes once more. No way I would be able to sleep, but…

“Please ensure your seat belts are fastened” along with a load more stuff about approaches and final destinations, we hope you have enjoyed, and so on, and finally, finally there was a coastline, and houses not that far beneath us, and my table was stowed, my seat upright, as we hit the runway at long bloody last. I felt like shit, and let almost everyone else get off before I finally dragged myself out of my seat, gathered my possessions, and staggered off after the others.

Bugger joining the Jet Set.

The light through the windows on the airbridge was too bright, the baggage trolleys were shite, the questions on the Customs/Immigration card were bloody stupid, but I concentrated on Steph’s advice Not to Be An Arse as I was processed. Finally, I was able to hit the exit, having abandoned the baggage trolley on the basis of it being absolutely shite, and there, to my intense relief, were Kul and Dil. They were both grinning like absolute idiots. Kul was almost insufferable.

“G’day cobber! Ripper, she’ll be right, bonzer, et bloody cetera. Feel enough like shit, Mike?”

I gave him my very best thousand year grimace, as Dil tried to chuckle rather than giggle, but I was too tired to maintain my snark. A flock of some very noisy birds shouted past, and Kul stepped in for a hug.

“Get you home, mate, and let you recover. No fun taking the piss out of the walking dead”

They had a car. There were roads, that carried a lot of traffic. There was a house with very wide eaves. There was a bed…

“No, mate. You feel like shit now, but it will be far worse if you sleep”

There was a kitchen, with tea, and sandwiches that teamed bacon with fried eggs. In my delirium, I realised how hard Kul was working to ease my arrival. The bacon still tasted odd, though. They took me out for a meal a couple of hours later, before leaving me, finally, to sleep. I still have no idea what sort of meal it actually was.

Breakfast was a much simpler affair, for I was almost rational, and my sleep deprivation was easing. Sangeeta was already at work, and Dil off to college, so it was just the two of us for the meal, eaten in an airy kitchen made more so by wide open door and windows, all covered by mesh screens. Cereal, scrambled eggs on toast and lashings of tea did the job, Kul grinning as he gave me my first bit of local information.

“That breeze, mate? It’ll change direction this afternoon. Until then, it’s just going to get warmer. Bit of a heatwave on right now, so a hat is a good idea. Afternoon, breeze will turn and get cooler. Locals call it The Doctor. Got a few things planned for today, first one being a look round our office, or what there is of it, and I have a site visit at three I want to take you on. New customer, this one, so I’ll be as fresh to it as you will”

“What sort of business is it?”

“New car hire business, mate. Big thing out here in the middle of nowhere”

He caught something in my face, and waved at the window.

“Biggest state in Oz, this one, and covers around a third of the country, and we are right out at the bottom left-hand corner. Sandgropers call it the most isolated capital city in the world. Er, term for the locals, that. Most of the population, and therefore business, hugs the coast, but there re places inland we’re sounding out. The car hire stuff is mostly for the real middle of the state. Three things they do… Ah, leave that for now. Going to drive you round a bit of the city, then into the CBD for a book in with the office, then a bite to eat before the customer”

“CBD?”

“Town or city centre, mate. Central Business District. Only real high rises in the place. Now, I am reasonably certain that you don’t have a scoobies about where you are, state you were in when you arrived. This is Joondalup, in the North of the city. Lots of places end up with up, my little joke. I sometimes say ‘Come down to up’, but that’s too contrived. Means something like ‘meeting place’ in a local language. So, the layout: Swan river comes in from the East, opens out into a massive sort of lake, then narrows again and runs to the sea at Freo, Fremantle. CBD is to the North of the river, near King’s Park, which is where I took the pic of the brewery from”

He grinned at that.

“Still all bloody lager, though! Oh, and yes, we have beaches nearby, though some of them give onto some nasty rocks under the water. Shops, the big ones, are all around the CBD. I mean, there’s lots of them there, not that they’re all there. Office is on William Street. All low rise round there, and loads of eateries rather than posh shops. It’s a bit of a Chinatown, to be honest. Pair of slacks and a buttoned shirt I would suggest; going to be hot”

I took the hint, and did my best to sort out a version of ‘local business attire’, and then we were off in Kul’s Toyota, first for a look at the nearest beach, before looping back round into an urban motorway. Everything looked low-rise, but I could see some high-rise buildings ahead, a very small number of them.

“Original homes here, or the older ones, tended to sit on big plots. Newer ones get squeezed onto smaller ones. As a mate put it, not only can you see and hear your neighbours, but smell them too.. Very much a two-tier thing. He’s got an extension on his own place that’s three times the size of the original house, and he’s still got a huge garden. Right… hang on…”

We left the motorway and entered a maze of absolutely straight roads in an obvious grid pattern. There were indeed signs everywhere in Chinese characters, none of the buildings rising above the first floor. After a series of right-angled turns in both directions, I spotted a ‘Williams St’ sign, and Kul grunted.

“Long bloody street, mate. At least we can park out the front; business has a permit deal with the City. Buses are free around most of the centre, but they recognise we need the cars. Hang on again…Oh, handy! Two are out@ easier to park”

The bay was recessed into a very wide footpath, more evidence of how much space had been allowed in the older parts of Perth, and after Kul had locked up, he took me to a small building that declared itself to be ‘Talbot and Swan Business Services’. I recognised the ‘Talbot’ bit from home, but ‘Swan’?

Kul laughed out loud before he explained.

“Two names sound more pro than one, Mike, and Swan is just the river. They turned down my suggestion”

“I’m going to regret asking, aren’t I?”

His trademark cheeky grin flashed through his beard.

“Might do… There was a famous explorer, did the first circumnavigation of Oz, or something. His name’s everywhere. Wanted to use that, and Swan, of course, for Perth”

“What was his name?”

“Er… Flinders”

“Flinders. And Swan. You get bloody worse every day”

“Yeah, but you love me, really. Come on in’ see the office, but looks like the crew’s out”

Into a wonderfully cool reception area, aid con obviously working, and Kul signed me in for the benefit of the woman on the desk.

“Ronnie, this is Mike. New chum, raw prawn, pommie bastard, et cetera. Mike, this is Veronica, the Keeper of the Keys. She should have the---thanks, Ronnie!”

She passed him a cardboard filing box, wincing as she did so.

“Mike, is it? Was this one as bad back in his own miserable country?”

I gave Kul as hard a stare as I could manage before replying.

“Worse. At least I hope it was worse, cause that would mean he won’t be as bad here”

“Well, everyone’s out today, so you’ll be free for a look-see. What are you up to this arvo, Kul? That ute place out by Kalamunda? Nothing else in your diary for today”

Kul nodded.

“Exactly that, love. Quick tour od this place, show him where the dunny is, grab a bite up there”

She snorted out a laugh.

“Kul. It really doesn’t matter how many words and phrases you pick up, you will ALWAYS sound like a pom. Just stay away from the whingeing, okay? And welcome, Mike. I’m sure you know how to handle this one, probably better than me, ay?”

She was grinning happily as she spoke, so I simply gave her a Paddington stare, with the words, “You think anyone can handle this one?”

Another snorting laugh.

“Well, we are sort of management consultants! Welcome to the madhouse, Mike”

I followed Kul into the private offices, whispering “What on Earth is a dunny?”

“Loo, bog, crapper, netty, place of easement, you get the idea. Out that door; ours is second on the left. What do you fancy for lunch?”

“What can you offer?”

“Bit of a twisty drive up there, but there’s a decent sandwich and pie shop off Canning Road, and a great place to sit and eat it. Ready to rock?”

I nodded, and he led me back to the car. We followed more of the grid out of the ‘CBD’, and past the airport, before ending up on a seriously long climb. I could see myself topping 50 mph on a bicycle, but definitely only in one direction.

“Welshpool Road, mate. Takes us right up to the top of the hill, where the customer is. Oh! Three, things, yeah? The business?”

“Okay”

“No Spanish Inquisition, Mike. Only three. First is the road trip up north, usually Broome and/or the Kimberley. Second is the crossing, from here to Sydney, usually. Both of those tend to need various types of camper van”

“The third?”

“Poncing about in the middle of the state. That’s a game for four wheel drive stuff, and yes, they do four-by-four camper vans”

He filled me in on some of the more esoteric tourist games, before we arrived at a shopping area with a cluster of small shops.

“Here we are—Mrs Miggins!”

The sign actually read ‘Mrs Mac’s’, but I got the joke. I put on my best Tom Baker voice.

“Does she bake a woman’s pie, Darling?”

His snort was louder, and far more uncouth, than Ronnie’s had been. We picked up a couple of sandwiches, as well as a brace of meat pies; the standard pie everywhere, according to Kul. He drove us back through another maze of confusing roads to a car park on the edge of a steep drop.

“See the towers, mate? Perth CBD. And after we’ve eaten this…”

There was a path through long grass, past some odd corky stubs Kul told me were the stumps of burned grass trees, and as we walked he was issuing all sorts of half-joking remarks about snakes. I realised all too quickly that he wasn’t really joking, despite his tone. The long grass gave way to a small building, a poor excuse for a waterfall, and a decent path winding down the gully that held the watercourse.

“Lesmurdie falls, mate. Grab a seat on the bank there, and dig in. Oh—there’s something new for you”

A large lizard with a short, bulbous tail was edging out onto the path, just downhill from us. It opened its jaws, and a bright blue tongue emerged.

“Blue tongued skink, mate. Locals call it a stumpy, cause of its tail”

And they mate for life, Kul.