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Decks and the city
Entry 53 of 68 | show all | print this entry |
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One of the joys in having this 'wing & a prayer' lifestyle is that anything can happen. Just as we had planned to surrender our Parklife tickets, grow old in Exmouth & live in a van 'sans gearbox' for the rest of our lives, the gods smiled down in sympathy. A girl from work, Em, offered us a lift as she was heading home to Perth, along with 2 French travellers... 'bonjour, merci, bonjour, merci' in perfect time for the weekend. 2 days being concertinered in a small car with human sized rucksacks wedged in any available space was not the most comfortable way to travel 1200 kms but hey, you pays your money you takes your chances. The brucey bonus was upon arrival in Kalbarri, Em called a mate who ran an outdoor ed. centre who offered us accommodation, as his scout group were out camping that night. I cannot begin to explain the elation at free accommodation that provided solid walls and a proper bed albeit with plastic covers. Yes I might have done a little wee with the excitement of it all but I suspect the plastic cover was primarily there to catch the tears of joy. Having spent the previous night in our new tent, whilst priscilla was whisked off to campervan rehab, we had nothing to protect us from the elements but a sheet of nylon and a rollmat as useful as a piece of paper when in need of comfort, this outdoor ed. hostel thing was like a night at the Sheraton. Hurrah.
We finally arrived in Perth, uncrumpled ourselves and staggered fully loaded with rucksacks, sleeping bags, rubbish rollmats and random items hanging off by string into the citigate hotel reception. Yes that's right a hotel. No plastic bed covers here or shared showers (no not like that Doug). Real carpet underfoot, tea making facilities, tv oh my god tv, heaps of pillows & I mean 'proper' pillows not inflatable ones or tiny bits of fluff stolen from airlines...hold on... you all know what you get in hotels its just such a rare treat for us.
The next few days were spent being city slickers, well ok, delusional backpackers who think they can pass for anything else but upon seeing bright lights, large shops & endless ways to spend money they just don't have. Baaaam theres the swan tower baaam! Kings park, heaps of pavement pounding and admiring the random architecture of the city. We ate proper food, had a proper shower and a proper sleep in a proper bed. A few days later we downgraded to the yha where we had the noisiest room in the world. Nothing to do with smelly 19 year old brits abroad running amock but the train station that seemed to be just behind the wardrobe. It was like sleeping on Clapham junction. It was a little nostalgic for me, having lived in halls of residence in Newcastle that had been built over the metro line that ran a regular service all the wi like from sernt jemses pork orl tha wi to Bykah Grorve....way eye man.
And so to our reason for being in Perth, the Parklife festival. I have never won anything before (apart from Die Hard on vhs about 100 years ago because I answered the following question correctly, which tv series did Bruce Willis star in? Was it a)moonbeaming b)moonlighting or c)mooning, hmm tricky one I know. So we were very excited to have free festival tickets. As with any major event the festival favourites were there, the gangs of slutty girls dressed (or not very dressed) in far too little clothing flashing far too much fleshy cellulite, the group of herberts in their dressing gowns & top hats, a small bunch of nervous looking Japanese girls, big sweaty fellas gurning their way into a ulcer hell and the day glow gang. Now being a little out of touch with yoof culture can anyone confirm that florescent clothing is now 'la mode'? The last time I saw this much fluro yellow, pink and orange was before frankie said relax. Jeepus it was wrong then and is even more wrong in its reprise. Half these kids don't know who Frankie is or even the next line to 'pump up the jam'.
"Who is Frankie, and why is everyone always so tense around him?" And no Jen, I don't know the next line to 'pump up the Jam', I'm not even sure why anyone would want to inflate conserve. Aside from the dodgy fashions there was plenty of dodgy dancing to go round, a ripe picking ground for new moves?. No, the sprinkler is safe, the dancing was so bad even I looked co-ordinated, a feat not previously deemed possible. Top of the bill was Derrick Carter all the way from the US of A, who rocked, joining him was Kid Kenobe, the Stereo MC's, Adam Freeland and the only 3 time DMC champion DJ Kraze. All in all it was a top day, the music was sweet, the weather perfect, the beer queues not too long and the toilets even had cleaners. Jen even got star struck when Rob the emaciated crack whore from the Stereo mc's walked passed, so much she was completely unable to run up and ask him for a photo. Nevermind Jen maybe Pete Dougherty will be at the next festival if you really do want your picture taken with an ugly bugly junkie.
Our final accommodation was at Castle Dracula, not its real name I hasten to add but with bathrooms in a state even Moaning Mertyl would admonish its fair to say it was rather ropey. It did actually look like a castle from the façade and had a medieval standard of comfort inside. We are talking broken windows, cracked toilets, mouldy bedrooms & ripped carpets. It was the kind of place where you wish you hadn't bothered with a shower because you felt more grimey than before you went in. Just a bit skanky all round really, get well soon Priscilla. More thumbnails ...
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