Catching a wave in Australia
A "mermaid" and "merman" at the Fringe World Festival. |
In January, I checked into the Terrace, a new boutique hotel in a house that dates to the late 19th century and is decked out in oak paneling, four-poster beds and sexy Art Deco-style paintings. The hotel, in the ultra-hip Central Business District, embodies the Perth paradox: Hot new openings, mostly in historic sites, go to great lengths to evoke "old." In Australia, of course, "old" is fairly young-Perth became a colony in 1829-but the result makes for rich juxtapositions: Step from a concrete office complex into a restaurant pretending to be a 1920s speakeasy.
I ate a divine organic breakfast at the hotel-eggs and smoked salmon on homemade rye, accompanied by portobello mushrooms and what tasted like the freshest coffee ever ground. Australian coffee culture is a serious, doctrinal business, complete with lexicon: Know thy "long black" from thy "flat white".
Every day of my 13-day stay was sunny, and I mean nota-cloud-in-the-sky sunny, almost synthetically sunny.
Days were spent exploring the city's urban villages, some within Perth and others right outside it. Northbridge, just north of the city center, is lovely by day. The neighborhood's onetime seedy streets are a center of art, both outside-a Banksy-esque mural depicting a little girl and a duck, and a dazzling light-and-water installation-and inside, at the Perth Cultural Center complex. The center houses the Western Australia Museum, the Art Gallery of Western Australia and the Perth Institute of Contemporary Art, along with two theaters and a library. The center's main square is a fanciful urban delight, complete with fake minibeach, free outdoor cinema and an "urban orchard," a minigarden adorned with crayon-colored lanterns.
Jamming flier after flier into my purse-comedy series? film festival? eco-market?-I strolled to the Central Business District. Northbridge and the district will soon be more attractively connected; the Perth City Link project is currently sinking the railway that divides them, just as the Elizabeth Quay project-set to include pedestrian areas, a luxury hotel and perhaps an Aboriginal art center-is extending the central business district down to the Swan River. I marveled at the district's contrasts: In a four-block radius, you'll find tony King Street, home to Louis Vuitton and Chanel, generic strip malls and office complexes. You'll also find Uncle Joe's Mess Hall, a retro-hipster wonderland where you can get an old-school trim at the barber shop and then eat vegan spirulina balls.