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But first, coffee

We woke to a strange feeling. A real dichotomy of emotions. Elation, knowing that we were in Puglia, waking to the gorgeous sunshine of Monopoli. We had days and days stretched ahead of us to explore this beautiful part of the world. Yet, deflated remembering the football result from last night’s Euro Final.

I prepared fresh coffee, putting thoughts of football firmly behind me, and we sat out in the early morning sunshine, under a cloudless sky, making a plan for the day. For many weeks, possibly months, these small towns in Puglia were simply something from the pages of Instagram. Places we discovered through social media and immediately added to our “must visit” list. However, this resulted in a list that was long enough to support a whole year in the region. We had three weeks. Life is a compromise, and travel is no different.

Breakfast in Monopoli

The first day of these three weeks started well. With a fresh, and still warm, slice of Puglia’s famous focaccia for breakfast. Served with “un cafe”, a delicious shot of espresso. Our AirBnB was situated right in the old town of Monopoli, amongst so many bars and cafes, and mere steps from the very inviting blue waters of the Adriatic Sea. A sea that we would find ourselves swimming in before too long. Monopoli is a beautiful town. Situated some 500 kilometres  from the nation’s capital, Rome, and just across the Adriatic sea from Croatia and Albania it had a distinctly different feel to the places we have visited in the Italian north. 

The Greek influence

We both remarked how much we were reminded of places like Dubrovnik and Korçula in the south of Croatia. A lot of this is down to the history of the region. The buildings are very white, much like you would see further south, and across Greece. Not very surprising when you consider that in around 8BC, Puglia became a Greek colony. The name Monopoli itself is Greek. Mono and polis, meaning unique and singular.

In the time since then it seems as though Puglia has been invaded by everyone, leaving a distinct character and cuisine behind. If it wasn’t for the ubiquitous Aperol Spritz you could be forgiven for forgetting that you were even in Italy.

The Aperol Spritz ritual

But in Italy we most definitely were. And drinking Aperol Spritz became one of our daily rituals. At home in Australia, it feels a little like a fad, seeing Aperol Spritz bars pop up through summer. Being in Italy it felt the most normal thing in the world. Having travelled top to bottom through this beautiful country I can confirm that Aperol Spritz is the number one aperitivo drink for all Italians.

In summer, when they are not drinking Aperol, the Italians are at the beach. Being coastal, Monopoli is home to a number of delightful small beaches. I use the term, “beach” lightly, as it seems that any small patch of land, however many rocks there are, between the land and sea is called a spiaggia (beach) and is taken over with parasols and sun loungers. And this being Italy they were all packed, people vying for a spot of sand/rock edging the crystal clear blue waters. Very inviting waters. With the mercury hitting the mid 30s it wasn’t long before we were in our bathers and having a dip. 

Dolce far niente

It may have only been day one but we were taking to Italy like a duck to water. Swim in the sea. Lunch with a cold glass of local wine. An afternoon siesta. Then out for early evening aperitivo. Yes, an Aperol Spritz. One thing that we noticed immediately is how seriously the southern Italians take their afternoon siesta. Shops and restaurants all (yes, all) close between the hours of 2pm to around 7pm. We struggled to find anywhere open in these sleepy afternoon hours. A full embrace of the famous Italian saying, “dolce far niente”, loosely translated as the sweet doing of nothing.

We adapted. Stocking up on cold beer before the shops closed, we had chilled afternoons, napping, reading and catching up on my travel journal. This left us fresh and ready for our evening passeggiata, an Italian tradition. Strolling through any street in Italy in the early evening gives you a real insight into how the locals live. Sat on stools outside their door watching the world go by. Sat with friends around a small table playing cards. Elderly couples walking hand in hand, probably as they have done for the last 40 years or so. The younger generation meeting up with friends in bars and drinking, you guessed it, Aperol Spritz. The dolce vita.

One thing we did notice, being this far south, was that many places were cash only. Coming from a country that is almost exclusively card (and phone) only, this has caught us out in the past. Memories of stomping up and down the (very) steep hills of Porto looking for an ATM still bring me out in sweats. Thankfully, Monopoli is a lot flatter, and smaller, and each day we were easily able to ensure we had some Euros in currency. And that we were able to afford that perfect pizza for dinner. I could write a whole blog on pizza. I once did. Suffice to say, in Puglia we found pizza just as good as the best from Naples, the spiritual home of pizza.

Bring out your skeletons

Enjoying the good life, we also got to reflect on life in general. And that we are not here forever. As is fairly common in Italy, Monopoli has a crypt. A place that skeletons get to call home. In the cathedral we saw the skeletons of monks from the 1700s. An eerie sight and one that you become accustomed to whilst visiting churches in Italy.  Momento mori.

From visiting the dead, to the sleep of the dead. All the travelling, swimming, and possibly all the wine, meant that as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out for the night. Waking early, and before we were ready to leave this gorgeous little town, it was time to pack up and see if our Fiat 500 was where we left it. It was. Two days in Monopoli left us yearning for more, and thankfully, we had more. Today our destination was Ostuni, 40 minutes south, with a detour. And what a detour.

Alberobello 

Alberobello is as hard to pronounce as it is to spell. Thankfully, it is easy to find. A short 30 minutes drive from Monopoli. If you don’t know why we were visiting, and why we were very excited, let me explain. Trulli. Lots of them. If you are not familiar with the name, I am sure you have at least seen a picture of them.

Alberobello is home to hundreds of trulli. A World Unesco Heritage Site, Alberobello has been home to trulli since at least the 14th century. A very unique dry stone construction that is unique to this part of the world. Naively, I imagined that we would see a couple, here and there, as we made the 30 minute drive into Alberobello. Victoria knew otherwise. For this road trip she had done some meticulous planning and once we had parked the car she knew where we were headed. I’m glad one of us did.

The main street in the historic centre of Alberobello is lined with trulli. There are hundreds of them. They are quite the sight. Very impressive. And if this was anywhere else in the world we would have been surrounded by influencers. You know, those annoying people who tell you that you “are spoiling their perfect picture of the white churches of Santorini”. The last person that said that to me is now influencing nothing more than the bottom of the Santorini cliffs.

Here, it was relatively busy but nothing like we have experienced in other places in the world that are slowly being destroyed by Instagram tourism. Maybe this part of Italy is yet to be truly “discovered”. Maybe we are ahead of the hordes. This, I am happy with. 

A taste of Puglia

With a satisfied smile, we found a little osteria in a quiet square, and I had my first taste of orrichiette con cime di rapa, perhaps Puglia’s most famous dish. Little ear shaped pasta (orrichiette meaning ear in Italian), with turnip tops and a sprinkling of cheese. A dish of startling simplicity, of which the region is famous for. It wasn’t the last time I would have this delighful dish, and as we strolled back to the car, with our thoughts turning to Ostuni, I was already thinking about dinner, the all important Aperol Spritz.

Ciao!

Leaving Taormina, we took a taxi down the steep and winding streets to the train station. Actually called Taormina-Giardini Naxos, the station is one of the world’s most elegant. Spotted in films such as Francis Ford Coppolla’s “Godfather III”, the Art Nouveau station has been serving this part of Sicily since 1866. Today, we were headed up the coast, to Messina, where we would change trains for our final destination of the day.

That destination was to be a further 185 kms west of Messina, to the resort town of Cefalu. With a town centre dominated by the very impressive Duomo, construction for which started in 1131, Cefalu is one of Italy’s most popular destinations, attracting both Italian and overseas tourists in their millions. We had two nights to explore. 

Upon arrival at our bed and breakfast we again had no elevator. Once more we were carrying our bags up multiple flights of very steep stairs. I am burning off my gelato calories faster than I am eating it. Hot, sweaty, and trying to smile whilst checking in. Have I ever told you how hot Sicily is in the height of summer? It is not the weather for climbing stairs.

Thankfully, we had good air conditioning, and cold water. Before too long we were ready to head out and explore. And perhaps find some gelato.

A Sicilian Slush Puppy

What we did find was another Sicilian staple. Granita. If you are from the UK, think of a Slush Puppy. A granita is a smaller, more refined version. The most popular flavour being a very sharp lemon. Served in a small cup and eaten with a spoon, a granita is THE way to cool down in this part of the world. Earlier that day we also had something else that you may be familiar with. Arancini originate from Sicily. What I didn’t realise was that the name, arancini, is derived from the word for orange. Which makes sense when I think of the shape and the colour. Golden globes of heaven.

Sicilians are very proud of their arancini, and there are specialist shops dedicated to their production. I can confirm, they do make the best street lunch. You can get every filling imaginable in these little globes of rice, and for us the simplest fillings are always the best. This is why travelling is so culturally rewarding. Getting to experience a culture through its food. Hundreds, and sometimes thousands of years of history, of people passing through a place, leaving their distinct cultural fingerprint in the cuisine. It is one of the joys of my life.

Beach to Beef in Cefalu

Cefalu is more than just its food. There is also a great swathe of beach that we planned to spend some time on. As we saw in other parts of Italy, Italians do love a day at the beach. They arrive early, with the whole family in tow, and set up for the day. We are a little less hard core, and we spent a few hours frolicking in the sea, with me taking intermittent trips to the nearby shop for cold beers.

When we planned our trip to Cefalu, besides the beach, we also planned to have beef. We discovered that there was a restaurant called “BIF Braceria” that specialised in steaks. Knowing that by the time we hit Cefalu, we would enjoy a break from pizza and pasta, we had booked a table for dinner.

What a night we had. Steak tartare. Followed by a t-bone steak. Complemented by a 2015 bottle of Sicilian red wine. A highlight of the trip, and quite possibly one of the most expensive meals we have ever enjoyed. Worth every Euro. Life is for living, and we will forget what we paid long before we forget the memories made that evening. Memento mori.

Palermo

More memories were to be made, and following a great visit to Cefalu we were headed to the capital to finish the Sicilian part of our trip. A short train ride from Cefalu and we were soon wheeling our bags through the streets of Palermo. We found our accommodation superbly located in the bustling heart of Palermo. And yes, you guessed it. No elevator. More stairs. But, what a view from the breakfast terrace.

We were now down to the last four days of  the holiday. Three of which we would spend in Palermo, a city that has much to offer. But first, Aperol Spritz. Tradition is tradition.

The Food Markets of Palermo

Palermo is famous for its outdoor food markets. Sharing many characteristics with the souks of Arabia, the markets are an assault on the senses. Vibrant, noisy, and smells that compel you to grab lunch on the go. Palermo has four historic quarters, each with its own market. The most popular being Vucciria and Ballaro. Just strolling through is an experience in itself. A must do whilst in Palermo.

No Mafia

Another place I would recommend is “No Mafia”, a museum (free entry) dedicated to the history of the mafia. Highlighting the tragic cost the people of Sicily have paid as a result of the mafia, No Mafia is an educational museum, showcasing the work done by the justice system in Sicily in trying to eradicate the insidious tentacles of the mafia. Tentacles that seemed to be entwined in many parts of Sicilian life for hundreds of years, from their humble beginnings in the Sicilian countryside to a worldwide organisation.

With thoughts turning back to food, it was time to find a recommendation we had received from the bed and breakfast host. Apparently, hidden away in the back of a monastery there was a bakery serving up the best cannoli in the whole of Sicily. This is what I am here for. Following the directions we got we headed through a quiet doorway, down labyrinthine corridors, eventually coming across a large room that housed the bakery. 

And the cannoli were…huge! Of course we were getting one each. Sat in the quiet courtyard, slowly working our way through the cannoli, all we could do was smile. This was indeed the best cannoli in the whole of Sicily, if not Italy. Palermo is a great city to explore by foot. Which is a relief as it may take me a week to burn off that cannoli. 

Palermo on Foot

We explored all corners of the city. And for a city that is over 2,700 years old, there is a lot to explore.  From the newer parts of the city, at the marina, to the very oldest with the combination of Baroque, Art Nouveau, Gothic and Romanesque architecture. Quattro Canti is one of the most impressive examples. A crossing of two main roads, the buildings on all four sides have diagonal Baroque facades creating an almost octagonal form. Quite the sight.

Our time in Sicily was drawing to a close. We had experienced the best of it. Food. Beaches. Architecture. History. And people. Such a rich place to visit. Rich in culture. World class wines. In another world we would stay here and explore the south coast, but that will have to wait. We had a date with the city to end all cities. A plane was due to transport us to the Eternal City.

Craving Carbonara

The last night of our European Odyssey would be spent in Rome. And boy, was I looking forward to getting my hands on a bowl of perfect carbonara. As soon as we knew we would be flying home from Rome I knew where we would spend the evening. The suburb of Trastevere is not the secret it once was. It has been truly discovered by the people of the world, but you can still find hidden pockets of tranquility, as we did that evening, sitting down to Rigatoni Carbonara in a quiet square.

Flying into Rome in the afternoon, and waiting almost two hours for our baggage to appear, we just had time for a whistle stop tour of all our favourite Roman spots. Staying within sight of the Coliseum made this an easy visit. Strolling along from there to the “typewriter building”, (the Victor Emmanuel II monument) and around to the Trevi Fountain. By the time we had explored Piazza Navona and the Pantheon we needed a cold beer, which gave us the energy we needed to visit the Spanish Steps before, tiredly, walking back to the bed and breakfast to change for dinner.

Reflections

Over a delicious bowl of carbonara we reflected on the last five weeks. Starting in England, visiting family and friends, before we headed to Puglia and Basilicata. Sicily followed, and now we were closing out the trip here in Rome. We had seen, and eaten so much. And again, I was reminded how much I love Italy. I wondered when we would be back.

The Journey is the Destination

Whilst the destination part of the holiday was over, we still had the “journey” part to enjoy. Our Emirates chauffeur collected us from our bed and breakfast in Rome and quite possibly broke all land speed records as he drove us to the airport. Checked in seamlessly, I was soon trying to set a personal best of how many lamb cutlets I could eat.

The Emirates Business Class lounge at Rome is a sight to behold. A quiet caccoon of paradise where we spent our last couple of hours on Italian soil. Restaurant quality food. Self pour of champagne. And boarding direct from the lounge. Settling into my business class seat, glass of Veuve Cliquot in hand, and I was mentally calculating how many years I would need to save for us to do it all over again.

Arriving in Galle, dry

Did I mention how wet it was in Kandy? Our umbrellas had just about dried and my trainers weren’t too far behind. My hope is that we have now seen the back of the bad weather. The signs were good. Since arriving in Galle last night we have had blue skies and no rain. Galle was always on our list to visit and due to the inclement weather, and once in a 100 years cyclone, we were out of step with our trusty spreadsheet. We were now travelling in the opposite direction to which we had planned.

Life is what happens whilst you are making plans, said John Lennon. Life saw us rocking up to a small family run guesthouse some two kilometers out of Galle old town. After the usual barrage of friendly questions, such as “where have you been?’, “what are your plans?”, “where are you going next?”, “how will you get there?”, yes, it is very exhausting, we had a stroll to Galle old town.

Quick quiz. How many times do you think you can be asked, “tuk tuk, sir?”, on a two kilometer walk? Double that guess and you could be close. Like most of asia, where tuk tuks are ubiquitous, locals find it very strange that you would choose to walk anywhere, even such short distances.

As we would be coming back to Galle later on the trip we had a whistle stop visit of this very historic city. After the six and half hour taxi ride from Kandy, never has that first cold beer tasted so good. We had our first of the holiday sat outside in the sunshine. Tick. Delicious roti from a street vendor. Tick. Photo of the lighthouse. Tick.

Our first hoppers in Sri Lanka

Waking the next day we were very happy to see “hoppers” on the included breakfast at the guesthouse. Our first of the trip. A Sri Lankan favourite of thin pancakes with a fried egg in the middle. And, they were hot, which seems to be something of a novelty at breakfast in Sri Lanka. A great start to the day which involved a 49 minute Uber ride, in air conditioned bliss, to our next destination, Weligama.

Weligama was not on our spreadsheet and we were looking for a place to stay for the night ahead of moving onto Mirissa, which was, and would see us back on track. Met with a very tasty iced lemon tea at the reception of M-Zion hotel, we were very pleased to note that our room was available. The hotel looked newly built, was very welcoming, and we had a room with a sea view. I even had a kettle to brew my fresh coffee in the morning. The holiday vibes were kicking in.

Weligama is a destination very typical of the south west coast of Sri Lanka. Built around surfing tourism. If ever you wanted to learn I’m not sure there is a better place in the world. A long stretch of beach, some great local food, and cold Lion beer. Talking of the food, we did have an experience in the evening. Sat at a small local place a chap came out rather apologetically and handed us a menu. He then told us that the chef had gone to help out with the flood relief and now, all that could be offered on the menu were the two items that he himself, the brother could cook.

What do you do in a situation like this? You stay right where you are and ask him to bring out his best dish, of the two, in the knowledge that you are putting a little bit back in towards the community rebuild following the floods. Well, he definitely wasn’t a chef. I stoically finished my flavourless curry, enjoyed my mango smoothie and bid the family a good night and good luck.

Even if all the chefs left, Weligama is still a place I could easily lose weeks in. Laid back, friendly, and at times, decent food. But we were back on the road the next day. Our trusty spreadsheet was back in action and we were back on track.

Playing the taxi lottery in Sri Lanka

Ordering cars via either the Pick Me or Uber app is a bit of a lottery. Some of the cars that turn up look like they wouldn’t pass an MOT. And for some reason, the cars that turned up seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. I did wonder at what point would a car turn up that had no room for our luggage? Spoiler alert, this was to happen in Colombo, later in the trip.

The car that turned up in Weligama had no place being on the road. Then we discovered that the driver had no place behind the wheel of a car. I should have clocked this sooner, as he tried to reverse to us in single lane traffic, with cars heading straight for him. Then he couldn’t open the rear doors for us to get in. When we finally did get in we noticed the fuel gauge was on empty. Thankfully our journey into Mirissa was only a short trip. My hypothesis that our driver had not passed any kind of driving test was confirmed when we arrived at Peacock Villas in Mirissa and he tried to reverse into their driveway, reversing straight into a large plantpot.

Exploring Mirissa

You just have to laugh. And laugh we did. We were quickly becoming accustomed to putting our lives on the line everytime we moved on. An iced coffee was our welcome drink at Peacock Villas, another charming hotel / guesthouse, all family run. A small collection of very tidy rooms around a swimming pool. Situated down a quiet lane, we were far enough away to not be bothered by the relentless traffic hurtling through Mirissa on the main road. Traffic that included the locals buses as they thunder up and down the west coast overtaking anything that deigns to be in their way. A blast of the horn is your only warning.

With our hand washed laundry out to dry in the garden, watched over by our new friend Mrs Lizard, we strolled into Mirissa. Being on the south west coast we again had a very large stretch of beach to enjoy. A perfect spot it turned out for ice cold beers, sat on the sand, savouring the daily sunsets. Life really does slow down as you feel your toes in the sand, listening to the lap of the waves upon the shore, as the earth slowly spins on its axis providing you the illusion that the sun is moving.

Visiting not so secret, Secret Beach

On day two we visited Secret Beach and it quickly became evident that the secret had got out a long time ago. It should possibly be renamed now to just “beach”. Still, it was a gorgeous spot for a cold beer, taking in the beautiful views. Once we had actually got there. A walk that started out as flat windy lanes ended up being more taxing than a walk in the hilly Yorkshire Dales. The path felt vertical at times. Little wonder we were amongst the few that were walking, with many tuk tuks whizzing past us.

Walking back was a lot easier and the reward was food. It was in Mirissa that we had the best roti of the whole trip. Fittingly, from a restaurant called “The No.1 Roti Shop”. The air was replete with aromas that made my belly rumble and the unmistakable sounds of clattering machetes preparing the day’s kottu. The food at No.1 Roti house was so good we went both days we were in Mirissa. Food is always a highlight in Sri Lanka and so it proved to be in Mirissa. Sri Lankan pancakes (warm). Kottu, which we told you about in an earlier blog on Sigiriya. And lots of mango smoothies.

Why is Beethoven in Sri Lanka?

If it was a snack through the day you were after we got used to listening out for the strains of Beethoven’s Fur Elise. If you are wondering why, let me explain. During the pandemic of 2020, which you may remember, people couldn’t go out to the bakery to collect their daily bread. So enterprising bakers took the bread on the road, in tuk tuks and visited villages. But how to get people’s attention? 

How does the ice cream man do it? Yup, the mobile bakers also knew that a catchy tune was the way to alert people they were in the area. And at the time, it was common to use their mobile ring tone and blast it through a speaker. And, what was the most common mobile phone ring tone in Sri Lanka in 2020? You guessed it, Beethoven’s Fur Elise. The pandemic passed and the appeal of the mobile baker stayed, which is why you can hear Beethoven all across Sri Lanka.

On our walk up to Coconut Tree hill in Mirissa we passed through many leafy green lanes that were so reminiscent of Bali over a couple of decades ago. And already, down these lanes we could see lots of hotel construction starting. It doesn’t take too much imagination to consider what these lanes will be like 10 years from now. I remember strolling down Poppies Lane in Kuta, Bali, in 1999. Peaceful. Little coffee shops and a few bars. The chimes of Balinese music wafting through the humid air. Unrecognisable from what Kuta now looks like. Sri Lankans are adamant that they are not going to be the next Bali. I am not convinced they will have much choice.

After a final dip in the pool at Peacock Villas, I picked up a book from the guesthouse book exchange, Transcription by Kate Atkinson, and went to pack my bags. Our final breakfast brought on the approaching festive season. A christmas tree had joined us overnight. Singing xmas carols to each other we were headed to our next destination.

When we returned from our round the world adventures in 2023, back to Perth, we didn’t know what the next chapter had in store for us. We had enjoyed our three years exploring the big old state of Western Australia, even running off to Margaret River in 2021 to get married.

Having enjoyed almost every restaurant, brewery, and over 70 cellar doors across Swan Valley and Margaret River we knew it was time. Time to travel again. When you are living a values aligned life, and when you know two of your strongest values are adventure and travel, making big decisions seems so much simpler.

Where else to start our travels?

Knowing we would be travelling again, and that we were leaving Western Australia, we knew there was only one place to start. In our spiritual home.  So when we decided to hit the road again it was only natural that we planned to start in the Margaret River region. 

With the lease of our most recent apartment expiring at the end of March we had a natural break. Sell what we can. Put the rest into storage. And hand the keys in. A couple of nights in a hotel in superb Subiaco, one of our favourite suburbs, whilst we dealt with the necessary life admin and we were off to pick up the hire car.

Our destination was just over two hours south of Perth. Busselton to catch up with our good friends Ali and Fran and talk all things Camino. They spent part of last year doing the Camino Nortes. Across Northern Spain. Whilst we will be doing the shorter Camino Portugués we got some valuable advice and tips over great food and even better beer at Rocky Ridge Taphouse, a place we will certainly miss.

Bliss in a tiny cabin

A twenty minute drive out of Busselton is Whicher Ridge winery, a place we highly recommend you visit for a wine tasting and a walk through their sensory garden. We were staying at one of the tiny cabins they have on the large working vineyard. One of three cabins, each out of sight of the other in such a way that you start to believe you are the last human inhabitants of earth. With just our sister, nature for company.

Waking up on that first morning, just as the sun was rising, Victoria had lain silently watching the many kangaroos that were feeding right outside our oversize bedroom window. She was transfixed for a couple of hours. That is until I woke and starting plodding around the cabin. The ever alert kangaroos. with their ears twitching a full 180 degrees were soon bounding off. 

Back to civilisation

After two nights of isolation we were heading back to civilisation. Our next stop was three nights in an AirBnB in Margaret River town. A location that allowed us to walk to two very different eating establishments and not worry about who was the skipper (what Australians call the designated driver). Settlers Tavern is a must visit when we are in town, simply for their chicken parmi. We have enjoyed a lot of parmis over the years and this is one of the best. When we had family stay with us a couple of years ago this was one of the first places we took them to.

Our second walkable restaurant is the excellent Miki’s Open Kitchen. Quite possibly the best Japanese restaurants in Australia. We have been fortunate to have eaten here a number of times, always the “Complete” degustation. We have never been disappointed, and with matching wines on the evening we left very happy.

Not walkable but only a 30 minute drive from another favourite meant we were booked in for the excellent “Farm Feast” at Glenarty Road in Karridale. We have been here a number of times now for both wine tasting and the paddock to plate restaurant and it always leaves us wanting to visit again. And we will, I am sure. 

It would be remiss of me not to mention Vasse Felix winery and vineyard. One of the originals in the region it is a place we keep returning to over and over. We had our first meal as a married couple here back in April 2021. As then, the leaves on the trees were turning autumnal and we called in for a couple of glasses of their rather quaffable wines.

Farewell beers at some favourite breweries

Our third, and final stop whilst down South was at Littlewood Chalet. We were finishing with an off grid stay. No phone signal. No wifi. Just our Uno cards and bottles of wine. Perfect. As we were just down the road we called into CBCo Brewery for a cold beer. A very impressive brewery that we hadn’t been to in a number of years. We even had some fun with the “selfie pole” out the front.

To close out the brewery side of things we also had a farewell beer at Margaret River Brew House. Always seemingly at capacity we did manage to get one our usual small tables out in the garden to toast a wonderful couple of weeks.

Our final morning down south started with eggs benedict at Sea Garden cafe. Somewhere we visit every time we are down here. Is there a more quintessential Margaret River cafe? This also allowed us to do our walk along Gnarabup Beach for the final time. Oh, the memories.

The three hour drive back to Perth was mostly done in contemplative silence. We love the South West of WA and dont know when we will next be back. We are taking away so many memories and leaving behind a piece of our heart.

It was time to drop the hire car off, squeeze in ANOTHER farewell beer, or two at Found brewery in Subiaco, then jump on the train to the airport. An airport that has been going through quite a transformation. It looks as though Perth airport is being dragged into the 21st century. We said cheers to this as we prepared for our exit from Australia.

For part two of the 2026 travels, Bali beckons.