The road to Albany stretches 400 kilometres. I think I have explored about five. At the other end of the highway, which runs through the Wheatbelt and the Great Southern is the fishing port of Albany. I’ll get there one day. Were you looking for a description of the route? Then this post is not for you, dear reader, move on.
My end of Albany Highway has car lots and cafes with quirky names. A is for Antz HQ, my haunt for this morning. The coffee for the day is the Golden Dragon. I’m not a coffee drinker, but I do like the idea of sitting on a barstool with a view of the sky. Or on a milk crate with a view of the playground. Take your pick. The coffee does fulfil its claim of putting ants in your pants.
There are other quirky café names along the highway – The Imp, Brewed, Harvest Espresso. I wonder what witchcraft inspired these first, and I can’t imagine how the words “harvest” and “espresso” conspired to come together. Across the road is a rather exotic Indian restaurant called Jewel in the Park, this is not going to be a rant about things that do not start with “A”.
There is a fine art to crossing the Highway. For the pedestrian, this involves standing at the edge of the pavement, squinting down the road at the approaching driver. This usually elicits one of several responses – said driver will a. slightly incline his head or, b. lift two fingers off the steering wheel or, c. blink his headlights. Some drivers will also make shooing motions with their hand or shake their heads vigorously. I expect this is done under the assumption that I may be a tourist unable to correctly interpret signs a, b, and c.
The correct etiquette when all of this happens is to is to scarper across the road, remembering all the while to half-raise one’s hand in salute to the driver. It’s been a decade since I moved to Perth, but I’m still working on the royal road-crossing wave.
There is a red kangaroo on Albany Highway, and a black swan. There is a war memorial at one end of the cafe strip and a pub with sculpted mosaic coffee beans in front. Somewhere further down Albany Highway sprawling malls and warehouse style stores give way to forest and farmland. I imagine there will be hills as the highway carves its way past the Darling scarp. I expect there will be a smooth glide down to the Southern Ocean and the port where ANZACs sailing off to the First World War had their last glimpse of home. I imagine it is quiet and calm.
But my end of Albany Highway is busy with cars. A construction site looms large just half a block away, cutting off all views of the sunrise. A pensioner trundles past on his scooter. A friend texts to say she is enjoying a weekend in Albany. It’s just another day in Victoria Park.
After a long hiatus I have resumed my blogging with what is intended to be the first of a series of posts that are an A-Z of Perth. What is your A for Perth? Or the place you live in?