Long Haul

Whilst back to creativity and the latest poetry zoom with Sara-Jane Arbury, I still hadn't shaken off my trip when we were asked to write a poem about the passing of time.

(c) Eva Darron  (Unsplash)

Long Haul

The seatbelt sign

flickers as all around

settle into their seats. 

The clunking sound of

metal into metal.

Searching the inflight

entertainment for something

to while away the hours. 

Various announcements. 

No smoking, no vaping, no

lying on the floor.

No children’s blow up beds.

The meal is served.  Saving the planet

with bamboo knives and forks. 

But drinks in single use plastic cups.

Darkness falls.  The lights turned low

apart from the flickering

of numerous seatback screens. 

The lady across the aisle

seems to be watching the screen

of the person sitting in front of me.

Why?

After three films I try to sleep,

jealous of those who snore, softly,

open-mouthed for hours.  I manage

twenty minutes.

I walk up one aisle and down

the other, past the sleeping beauties

and the shining screens,

shadow actors playing out

their silent scenes.

Lights, action, breakfast.

Of course it could be lunchtime.

It must be somewhere in the world.

But after seven time zones

who knows what time it is.

The cabin crew decree it’s breakfast time,

although spinach and fetta slice

doesn’t sound like breakfast to me.

Slowly the chattering of passengers rises

almost drowning out the loud

thud

that signals

wheels down.

The crew sit down, no longer moving

through the cabin.  Strapped in,

leaning back, as

the ground rushes up to meet us.

The engines howl

as they are thrust into reverse.

The plane lands awkwardly veering

slightly left and right.

Will there be enough runway?

Sighs of relief as the plane comes

to a standstill.  Seatbelt sign off.

A rush to reach bags stowed

in overhead lockers.  Why do we do that? 

It takes so long for steps

and collecting cases in baggage reclaim.

But after seventeen hours trapped

in a metal tube, we want to escape

and finally reach our destination.

Thanks for joining me today
Bernice

Last days

Only three days left!

Thursday saw us visit the Cascades.  I was expecting a waterfall but there you are!  We had a lovely loop walk.

Driving on along the south coast we reached Walpole.  We had been told about a really good boat trip here but the it turned out the guy only did one trip a day and we were too late for it.

We drove up through the forest to Hilltop View.  This was the first time we had taken a gravel road on this trip.

Further along the track there was the Giant Tingle Tree.

And just for once we took photos of each other!

Further along this same track was Circular Pool - so named becausee at certain times of the year the water flows in circles.  It  didn't.

After a late lunch we reached the Tree Top Walk.  These amazing walkways swayed even if with only two of us on them - although it was quite windy.

We drove on to Albany to our next overnight stop.

We began Friday with a walk on Middleton Beach which was about half a mile from where we stayed.

We drove into Albany visiting the Desert Mounted Corps Memorial at the top of a steep hill.  The troops had left from Albany to go to England but their ship was diverted to Egypt from where they were sent to Gallipoli.

The view from the top was amazing.

We started driving north.  I particularly wanted to see the Pink Pool at Cranbrook.

We stopped for a hot drink at Katanning.  The coffee shop was in an old flour mill and the owners had retained much of the metalwork in the premises and this flour bag printing press.

We continued north to York for our final night in Western Australia.

On Saturday morning we visited a small market and then the Motor Museum.  I feel much the same about Motor Museums as I do about Maritime Museums.  Although to be fair we don't often visit Motor Museums.

 

A couple of buildings in York:

York is famous for its Swinging Bridge.

We visited a Patchwork Exhibtion and walked around a Wildflower Reserve, where unfortunately there were no wildflowers.  Apparently the Spring weather this year (August/September) had meant the flowers didn't grow.

We set off for Northam and the  only opportunity there was to see any Silo Art for which Western Australia is famous.

And onto our final visit of the day.  This was Toodyay - pronounced 2jay.  Of course!  We went round this flour mill which gave a really good insight into the social history of the town.

After lunch we walked round a Christmas shop purely to be able to make a video of it for two of my Christmas-obsessed friends.

Then it was time to drive to the airport.  We actually arrived about an hour earlier than planned but it did make for a leisurely check-in with no queues.

17 hours on a plane and 7 time zones saw us reach London Heathrow.  It had been 32 degrees C when we left Perth and 4 degrees when we arrived in the UK.  Shiver, shiver!

Thanks for joining me on my trip to Western Australia.

I'll be back to posting twice a week now and normal service will resume with textile bits and pieces.

Bernice

Please obey all traffic regulations

On Tuesday we picked up a hire car (rental) and got an upgrade.  Oh Yeah.

Roger drove us south, mostly along the coast of Western Australia until we reached Mandurah.  We had a walkabout the quayside.

Part of the walk was called Venetian Canals Walk.  This was part of it.  Mmmm!  I somehow feel no-one from the town had ever visited Venice!

We drove on south and stopped for lunch in Bunbury.  This was the view from the restaurant.

We continued south to Busselton where we checked in to our accommodation.  The Airbnb in Fremantle was booked well in advance but on the road trip we decide where we will get to the next night and then find somewhere on Hotels.com

We took an early evening drive to Cape Naturaliste.  This was the nearest I got to photographing a sunset the whole 3 week trip!

The lighthouse was on the headland and we walked a loop around it hoping to see whales out in the bay.  We didn't.

Wednesday morning we went to see Bussleton Jetty.  A train runs along it and we did consider walking the length of the pier (1.7km) and possibly getting the train back but in the end we got in the car and continued our journey south.

We stopped at Yallingup where we saw amazing waves and people being taught to surf.

Then a short drive away we came to Canal Rocks.

Personally I think I'd call them fissures in the rock not canals  But there again if the signpost had said Fissure Rocks we might not have bothered to drive to them.

We continued on through Margaret River, Prevelly and Augusta, getting to another lighthouse which was shut.

Further along the south coast but a little way inland we came to Pemberton where we had booked a room at  Forest Lodge.  The room turned out to be a cabin in beautiful grounds.

And with these guys as neighbours.

We had dinner at the hotel in Pemberton sharing a table with an Australian couple from Queensland. They were Avocado farmers so we had a really interesting evening asking them about that.

 

Thanks for joining me today.
Bernice 

Oh and why the title? 
Because if we dared go even 1 kph over the speed limit the satnav would say 'Please obey all traffic regulations'.  She also warned us when we came to railway crossings - even those where the rails had been removed.  Of course we could have turned the voice off if only we had known how.