Nov 16

Swinging Guinea Pigs

Our final house-sit of the year brings us to the beach town of Rockingham, an hour south of Perth. Affectionately(?) known as swinging pig, it has the homely feel of the country, but  the suburban twang of an engulfed satellite town. It also brings us to the end of our Australian odyssey and while super excited to return home to missed family and friends I am very very sad to be leaving.

Tinky on top of a cupboard

Fluffy and the swinging guinea pigs Helping me come to terms with these mixed feelings the animals here have been as welcoming as everybody else on this sun scorched continent. Buster, the most docile staffie I’ve ever known greets us every day by rolling onto his back for a belly rub. Snowdrop and Tinky the cats, while a tad more reticent will do anything for food and I’ve enjoyed our conversations greatly. The team is completed by Fluffy the deaf rabbit, two guinea pigs, who make the most adorable squeaking noises when you go out to feed them, and two fish, who don’t.

Snowdrop wants out, Buster wants in

The house is literally a stone’s throw from the beach and our evening walks have been accompanied by the most glorious sunsets. We’ve discovered a great deli/restaurant in Rustico, where the chickpea battered prawns and wild mushrooms were a particular highlight. There’s even one of the ever popular micro breweries at Mash, whose gorilla fixation I don’t really understand, but they do a good tart apple cider.

Nick and Buster on the beach



We hope to revisit these and many of the other fantastic eateries and bars that we’ve sampled, as well as the fantastic amount of mental flora, fauna and scenery we’ve seen, in future posts. Rest assured, we may be leaving these beautiful shores in just over a week, but there is so much more to tell. We’ve been too busy experiencing it all to write about it yet, but we’ll get there. Promise.


Rockingham sunset

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