I love Perth, and I particularly love living in the somewhat pretentious, yet oh so pretty corner of it snuggled between the ocean and the river. It's known as the golden triangle, in all seriousness by many of its residents, ironically by the rest of the community.
I have recently rejoined the world of the daily commute, as I'm going to film school this year. The last few years I've been working walking distance from my home, and living five minutes from uni, so it's been a bit of a culture shock.
Some of my local friends often joke that people should need a passport to get into the triangle, but it's starting to feel like this has become the case, as I run the gauntlet of checkpoints and obstacles in and out of the area.
My drive to school each day looks a little something like this:
I've obviously taken a little artistic license here, although one road really does have a tortoise crossing.
I'm all for improving Perth roads, but it seems like they've studied a map of Perth, picked out all the major arteries of the city, and decided to rip them all up. I wonder what visitors to our fair city must think as they drive down Great Eastern Highway, with its concrete bunkers surrounded deadened wasteland... it makes Perth look more like the post-apocalyptic wastelands of Tank Girl or Mad Max than Baz Luhrmann's rose-tinted vision of Australia, and it's a far cry from the way people used to see it...
My drive home looks like this in reverse, except that three times in the past week it has also included being stopped to be breathalysed and having my I.D. and vehicle registration checked.
You really do need a passport to get down here.









No comments:
Post a Comment