Tasmanian bound for India – Transit lounge = Fremantle (PUNKS AND VETERANS).


Well Fremantle, affectionately known as ‘Freo’,  is my transit lounge for 9 days before I leap into my Indian chaotic adventure. My old pal Brooke is house-sitting in Freo at the moment, so I thought why the fuck not come and spend some time here before I leave. Brooke and I worked together back in the late 90’s, at a Pharmacy in Tasmania. We have kept in touch over the years, and she, like myself loves to travel. Brooke served in Afghanistan with the army and on April 25th, which is ANZAC day we attended the dawn service, which remembers those who fought for Australia and New Zealand in the multiple wars since World War 1. During the morning chill and darkness of a North Perth RSL memorial I realised that I hadn’t been to a dawn service since I was a kid, and to be honest I never really wanted to. I am not a fan of any war, but the women and men who look after our country are to be respected and never to be forgotten. They are the bomb, no pun intended, and yesterday really showed me how bloody amazing these guys are. War is, and will always be here as long as humans reign supreme in the world. Corrupt ruling governments, fanatical religious dicks and crooked businessmen keep this unnecessary fucked up event happening, time after time. The courageous and selfless women and men who fight on our behalf are an integral part of keeping us safe. Their stories are real, not fictitious or propaganda, and if you want to argue or debate war, no matter what side you are on, speak to them. They have seen in it, fought it, and been there. If you haven’t don’t blast your ill-educated opinions all over the place. Servicemen and women are the true story-tellers, and that is a fact. So next ANZAC Day go and support these selfless people, without them we may not be here.

Post service we ventured into Perth for the parade. Upon arriving after an uneventful train ride we realised we has in fact missed the parade. Nice one Brooke, I blame you. The streets were full of smartly dressed uniformed men and women, with their families and friends. Each and every bloke kept glancing at Brooke to see what medals were sitting upon her chest. Or were they? Last year Brooke has a dick of a journalist assume she was wearing her father’s medals. Assume not wanker. In true Brooke style she confronted the dude to explain in fact they were her’s, and to get fucked. I love people who assume, without finding the facts. Complete fools.

So beer time, and plenty of them. Being in Western Australia we had to wait till midday to buy a beer, very un-Australian Perth, very. Two-up started in the street, where gambling on the street is allowed for this day only I was informed by a police cop I meet. Beers started flowing, and so begun an 7 hour beers consuming with my new found Perth buddies for the day. We did an Uber pub crawl all over Perth, which ended up at the Army Barracks, where servicemen and women belted out Australiana songs like: ‘Your the voice’, ‘Better’ and ‘ These days’. I manage to keep a lid on my antics for the day and observed the servicemen and women letting their hair down. I thought though who the fuck is looking after the country today and our old mate Kim decided to let loose? That’s right it is all bullshit anyway. But if I was an evil invader I would choose this day, April 25th to have a go at Australia.

Pictured above: Myself and Brooke having a few beers after the service.
To tie in my love of music, and boy do I love music. Prior to ANZAC day I spent 2 solid nights at Mojo’s, located in North Fremantle. Punk rock and rock ‘n’ roll are my life line. They make me get through bad times, and enjoy good times. A young punk from Hobart, Gus Romer (who plays in Hobart’s band Bu$Money), had just joined the Melbourne outfit Amyl and the Sniffers, and they were in town. I was not going to miss this 2 day smorgasbord of fuckin great music. Mojo’s is a true live music venue. No bouncers, no dicks (except 1 Freo supporter), no pretentious beers or bar staff, a smokie beer garden, and a loud quality PA.

Amyl and the sniffers are a punk sharpie rock band, who fuckin rock. Vocalist Amy Taylor treats punters to her wild stage antics, nothing I have seen from a femal vocalist for some time. These guys are raw and real, and love a beer before, during and after their show. Dec and Bryce make up the rest of the band, and playing some pool with these guys in the worker’s pub down the road, I realised how down to earth they were. Also how shit they were at pool, sorry guys. They supported Hideous Sun Demon who tore Mojo’s up 2 nights in a row, and were so damn good. One of the best live bands you will see in Australia at the moment. There was 15 other bands who played, and all were notably fucking awesome.

Picture below: Gus Romer and Amy Taylor of Amyl and the Sniffers.


Check out some of the music via the following links below:



Fremantle, in which the traditional owners of the land call Walyalup is a port city, located approximately 25 km south of Perth. I could definitely see myself living here, but I do say that a lot about numerous places I visit. It is a with a mix of people from backpackers, weekenders, students, eccentric street riff-raff, dock workers, fishermen, artists and very attractive women. So Freo is my departure lounge. I am ready to board. Mumbai (India) is in the post. I can feel it’s chaos upon me. What will happen? What will I see? Who knows? Only time will tell for me now.

See ya Freo – who hairy punk, veteran of a town.

Pictured below: Amyl and The Sniffers @ Mojo’s, and 2 ANZAC veteran’s.