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The Perth Visit: East Perth Reminiscing
Jun. 14th, 2022 11:20 amI'll be playing catch-up on journal entries over the next few days, as the short trip to Perth was certainly a rather extraordinary series of events and developments. The first couple of days was settling into my temporary accommodation at Bailey's Motel which has large rooms, a great location (just outside the CDB proper), and is inexpensive. It also just so happened to be in the same block as the restaurant for Sunday dinner. In any case, the initial days of the visit were spent with some relaxation. I was collected at the airport by Bruce T., and we proceeded to the Maylands Dome for a late lunch which remains a rather lovely historic local building. That evening I caught up with Angela D., whom I haven't seen in person for over twenty-five years although we've had plenty of discussions in the last two! After a strange and disastrous visit to Winston C's, we ventured two doors down to Bar Lafayette, which is one of my favourite places in Perth and not just on account of the name - the décor is very much to my taste.
The following day was mostly free, so I spent it walking around my old stomping grounds of East Perth. This is where I spent my final year of Year 12, aged 17, almost living of "no fixed address" and with virtually no income to speak of for much of the period. East Perth was a very different suburb back then, much inhabited by the lotsam, jetsam, lagan, and derelict of society, of which I was certainly one. Due to an extensive urban renewal program starting in the 1990s almost all of the very dilapidated apartment blocks where I would find a temporary address among young people with substance abuse issues and extensive criminal records, are almost all gone, replaced by modern apartment blocks. The exceptions are the rooming house, now refurbished into individual apartments, and a rather giant brutalist block where I was fortunate enough to move in with a Chinese family with gambling issues; five of us lived in a one-bedroom apartment and that was a step up in my life for that year!
Somehow I did finish year 12 and went to University. In my first year, it was fair to say that my income was raised from "desperate" to "very poor" and likewise the standard of accommodation was raised accordingly. Those old clinker-brick apartments on Adelaide Terrace and opposite Langely Park are all gone now as well, replaced in the latter case by towers overlooking the Swan River. Gone is the rambling friendly household of Dutch communists and their wonderful and wild-spirited daughter, gone is the 24-7 party house where everyone was handed a blunt upon entrance. Yet I remember a visit by the gas authority to my old bedsit who turned it off on account of how badly the pipes were leaking. "Why are you still alive?", was the gas fitter's first words after conducting the check. All these places are history now, but it is from history that we must forget where we are now. Never forget where you came from.
The following day was mostly free, so I spent it walking around my old stomping grounds of East Perth. This is where I spent my final year of Year 12, aged 17, almost living of "no fixed address" and with virtually no income to speak of for much of the period. East Perth was a very different suburb back then, much inhabited by the lotsam, jetsam, lagan, and derelict of society, of which I was certainly one. Due to an extensive urban renewal program starting in the 1990s almost all of the very dilapidated apartment blocks where I would find a temporary address among young people with substance abuse issues and extensive criminal records, are almost all gone, replaced by modern apartment blocks. The exceptions are the rooming house, now refurbished into individual apartments, and a rather giant brutalist block where I was fortunate enough to move in with a Chinese family with gambling issues; five of us lived in a one-bedroom apartment and that was a step up in my life for that year!
Somehow I did finish year 12 and went to University. In my first year, it was fair to say that my income was raised from "desperate" to "very poor" and likewise the standard of accommodation was raised accordingly. Those old clinker-brick apartments on Adelaide Terrace and opposite Langely Park are all gone now as well, replaced in the latter case by towers overlooking the Swan River. Gone is the rambling friendly household of Dutch communists and their wonderful and wild-spirited daughter, gone is the 24-7 party house where everyone was handed a blunt upon entrance. Yet I remember a visit by the gas authority to my old bedsit who turned it off on account of how badly the pipes were leaking. "Why are you still alive?", was the gas fitter's first words after conducting the check. All these places are history now, but it is from history that we must forget where we are now. Never forget where you came from.
