5 Things Perth-ites Take for Granted

I used to think Perth was the best place in the world. Sandy beaches, blue skies and the kind of sleepy pace I thrive on. I mean, where else would you want to settle down and raise a family?

But last week, when I touched down on the soulless streets after six months in Europe, I was struck by the stark realisation that maybe I’d been a little biased. The haphazard eddies of Perth drivers rekindled my hyper-vigilance, my coffee bill gave me heart palpitations and the “never-ending winter” was bemoaned everywhere, as if it were the dawn of the next ice age.

So maybe Perth isn’t the best place in the world. And although six months abroad is the best way to emphasise it’s flaws, it’s also the best way to gain a renewed appreciation of the things that are uniquely Perth, the things I’ve missed . . . the exact things we all take for granted.

The Weather

OK Perth, so you’ve had the longest, coldest, wettest winter on record, no doubt fostering numerous mini-tornadoes worthy of Channel 7 headlines? And it’s pretty inconvenient rescheduling a morning run or ride to the afternoon because of the rain, right? But seriously? Even the wettest winter on record only sees rain on three days out of seven . . . and even then it’s usually at night. It’s cold, but the sun shines. It’s wet, but it dries up fast. There’s the occasional storm, but it’s over within an hour.

I don’t do winter so I sympathise with you Perth, but after four weeks of solid rain in the English Lakes District earlier this year, and in anticipation of the dark days and icy conditions ahead: please, please, please, give me Perth’s ‘coldest, wettest winter’!

Breakfast Culture

There’s no arguing Perth has grown a trendy breakfast culture over the last couple of years. From Mount Lawley to Freo, an artisan breakfast and a decent coffee isn’t hard to find. Sure, a small bank loan may be required once the bill arrives, but when a smashed avo craving hits, it’s easily satisfied without venturing far from home.

Save for the rare exception, the closest to ‘breakfast’ we’ve managed to find on our travels is a dirty-dishwater coffee in a seedy-looking bar, accompanied by BYO croissant from the bakery across the road. Bank loans aside, next time you indulge in a pulled pork bruschetta . . . grab an extra egg for me.

The Price of Fuel

We all swore we’d dust off the old pushbike when fuel prices tipped over a dollar. (Not a particularly good idea in Perth but that’s another story.) The fuel price tipped over a dollar, climbed as high as $1.40 and we were all still driving, the media giving plenty of air time to the outrage of it all. Yet as we cried over the crisis at the pump, our cousins in New Zealand were already paying a dollar per litre more. During our wallet piercing journeys across Europe, I’ve come to the conclusion Australia must have some of the lowest fuel prices in the world.

Given the cost of a cup of coffee, Petrol in Perth is something to be celebrated. While fuel prices at home dipped to an all time low of 95c, we were still paying €1.02. Those kind of savings could be put towards breakfast!

Shopping Hours

The great retail debate plagued Perth for years. Extended opening hours would take trade from small businesses. Retail workers deserved time off too, and ‘Sunday trading would never take off’. But arguments aside, I love the fact that in Perth, I can duck down to the local store any time of the day (and most of the night) on any day of the week. I can buy fuel on Sundays. And if I happen to run out of milk at midnight, there’s always the ‘servo’.

It’s not until we turned up at an abandoned petrol station, with 100km to go and a fuel gauge challenging empty, that we truly began to appreciate Perth’s trading hours. And like a couple of slow-learners, we still manage to turn up at the store during the afternoon ‘nap’ time and schedule grocery shopping for Sunday, only to find the carpark empty and the supermarket deserted.

Nail Salons

Asian nail salons have been the source of much amusement amongst my friends and I over the years. Sitting in the kind of massage chair which could claim weight loss benefits, four Vietnamese women each tending a limb and waving products around while stuttering “You want?”, is a unique experience. But the convenience of being able to turn up, on a whim, and step out half an hour later after a foot massage and with a sparkling new pedi is unparalleled.

I’ve discovered the rare beauty salon offering nail treatments on our travels so far. But it’s not the same, waiting a week to be ushered onto a dreaded doctor-surgery-type examination table to have my nails painted by some woman who may as well be holding the brush with a pair of tweezers. No foot spa. No massage chair, and certainly no foot massage.

Perth might be the most remote capital city in the world, and sport an attitude to match. It might be full of Perth drivers and over-inflated prices. It might even rain sometimes. But personally, I’m grateful that the six o’clock news in my home town has nothing better to report than the occasional mini-tornado.