Well it’s been a while since the last post.
A bit of writer’s block I suppose, or perhaps just writer’s fatigue. Life has
definitely become “normalized”. Same ole’ same ole’ as they say. Just goes to
show you, you can get used to anything, regardless of how many bowls of rice
you have for breakfast and how many times a wailing Imam wakes you up at 4:30
am.
But hey, all of that came to a screeching
halt last week. Amy had a week off (teacher’s eh….do they ever actually work? J), so the quintessential first-world problem of “where to go, what
to do” was upon us yet again. Seeking a break from this wineless land of nasi
goreng (remember: fried rice), we decided on busting a move to the nearest straight-line
point of contact with western culture: Southwest Australia (Jakarta – Perth:
4-hr direct flight). We had completely run out of wine at the time, so that
made the decision that much easier. Life without wine….it’s an inexplicable
world of darkness and despair (OK, it was only 2 weeks, but it seemed like a
post-nuclear apocalypse).
 |
| losing count of how many planes this box has been on |
The loyal followers among you will know
that SW Australia was not a random choice. In fact, it was only 10 short months
ago that we were on a 2-week cycling mission from Perth to Augusta, Western
Australia (see past post). On that trip, we passed through, and spent 3 days
(Christmas day, in fact) in Margaret River. So taken by it, we vowed to come
back and spend more time there.
Margaret River, AKA Margs (pronounced “mawgs”
in that ever-so-interesting Aussie accent), is a very cool place. We’re a tad
bias given the uncanny parallels to our home base of Nelson, British Columbia. The
parallels are striking. Both are small towns (MR population = 5K, Nelson = 10K),
in relatively out-of-way places, that one must really want to get to, to get
to. Once there, both offer disproportionate levels of culture, great food, good
coffee, and most importantly, blue sky, fresh air, and outdoor recreation. It
was like coming home.
Margaret River’s claims to fame are
diverse, making it the cool place that it is. Top of the list for most Aussies
is probably the surfing. Mawgs is a renowned, world-class surf break. Not for
the faint-of-heart though, it’s a serious, cold-water, reef-bottom, big surf
situation. If you want to be in a surf movie, good place to come. If you are
two Canadians who have spent a total accumulated time on top of a surfboard of
under 5 minutes….not so good. We didn’t come for the surfing, and never went in
the water. J
So why did
we go? Two words (well, actually three): mountain biking, and wine. Mawgs is
ground-zero for the burgeoning southwest Australia wine area, known as, wait
for it: The Margaret River wine region. Reminiscent of all wine areas in the
world, the area boasts a Mediterranean climate of hot dry summers, and cool
winters, complimented by that iconic rolling landscape of sun-drenched
hillsides covered in vineyards. Where wine meets the ocean…what’s not to like?
What really drew us back was the prospect
of doing some real mountain biking. While our default go-to on the weekends in
Bogor, is biking, with our mountain bikes….no self-respecting mountain biker
would actually call it true mountain biking. Of course, coming from British
Columbia – god’s gift to mountain biking – pretty much everything everywhere
falls short. However, Mawgs is giving it her all, and a respectable mountain
biking scene is emerging. Nice!
The riding is dominated by well-organized
and maintained, x-country, single-track areas, that can be done in sets of
one-off trails, or in a series of consecutive trails strung together for a
longer ride. Everything we rode (and we pretty much hit it all) is beginner
friendly (i.e., nice smooth single-track) but interspersed with enough
non-mandatory stunts and downhill sections that anyone could have tons of fun.
Our fav was a place called “Middle Earth” – a fantastically flowy 28-km
single-track about 30 mins outside town littered with log rolls, skinnies, and
ramps. In the words of one guy who whizzed by us while we were taking a break:
“heaps of fun mates!” If yer going to Margaret River, and have yer bike,
download this app: www.margaretriverfindthefun.com.au.
This indispensable app tells you everything you need to know about Mawgs (click
on “mountain biking”).
So ya, a week in Mawgs. We landed at the
Perth airport, grabbed a rental car, threw (i.e., squeezed) our bike boxes into
the boot, and headed south (3-hr drive) to our Airbnb just outside town. Amy’s
internet skills found us, yet again, a kick-ass house, walking distance to the
ocean, and complete with hot tub on the front deck. Sweet!
The daily routine evolved into waking up,
first wake-up coffee, second coffee in the hot tub, nice breakfast, pack up the
bikes, shred the trails for a few hours, hit a winery or two on the way back,
back to the hot tub for winery wine number 1, walk down to the beach for
sunset, back for winery wine number 2 and a gourmet dinner. We rode every day,
drank as much delicious Australian wine as we could, and ate nothing but
Australian beef, cheese, prosciutto, and gourmet appies. Could get used to that
sched! I had to kidnap Amy to get her back into the car to head back to the
airport J
There was one hiccup though. Both of us had
colds! Amy brought hers along and suffered through the first few days. She then
passed me the baton and I was sick for most of the rest of the week. Sinuses be
damned though, we forged ahead with our heads full of snot! Pretty hilarious at
one point. At one of our favourite wineries (been there twice, therefore it's our fav), Cape Mentelle (www.capementelle.com.au), after the
first couple tastings of 80-dollar Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay, I realized I
had lost my ability to taste, along with my ability to smell (or breath through
my nose). Hmmm, I was thinking….the Chardonnay tastes exactly like the Sav
Blanc….and really, they both taste like nothing. I’m not paying 80 bucks for
this crap! Amy assured me they were both delicious, and we settled on the
20-dollar rosé. Apparently, it too was delicious J
