From the desk of Roland Rocchiccioli – 5 February

I left Western Australia in 1968. I have returned many times since then; however, the most recent visit proved a re-awakening of much I had forgotten about the ‘City of Lights’.

I LIVED the whole of my youth in the north-eastern goldfields, 828 kilometres north-east of Perth. Up until the time I went away to school in Perth I had been to the capital city only four, maybe five times.

I left school in 1964 and I lived, for the most part, in a boarding-house on the corner of Bayview Terrace and Stirling Highway, Claremont. It was owned and operated by Mrs McNicol and her husband, Pop. A traditional English establishment, it was a form of economical accommodation which no longer exists in Australia. It provided full board-and-keep. It offered single, serviced bedrooms, shared bathrooms and loos, a communal television/sitting room, and a full cooked breakfast and dinner – three courses, every day and a roast Sunday lunch – Mrs McNicol was a superb cook.

The building has been converted into rather swish offices, but the facade remains intact. On this last visit I stood on the opposite side of Bayview Terrace and stared-up for a time at my first-floor, bedroom window. Myriad memories flowed – some happy – some not so happy. Names of people whom I thought I had long-since forgotten came to mind. One wonders what became of them…

This trip required me to move back-and-forth across the city, venturing into areas I have not seen for years. There were street names I had forgotten; buildings which were instantly recognisable; parks and gardens I had not seen since I was a child; and vacant blocks, or new buildings, where once I had visited friends and relatives. Progress has given Perth a superb skyline which was foreign to me.

The Playhouse Theatre in Pier Street, which was the start of my career, is gone, while the ABC building in Adelaide Terrace is now apartments. The distinctive pink, art deco, ‘Berkeley’ flats directly opposite, and where my aunt Sylvia lived for many years, have been demolished. The important triumvirate seemed indestructible at the time, now they live only as a memory, the accuracy of which is clouded by the mists of time.

The Indian Ocean is the colour of lapis lazuli, reflecting the endless, azure skies which bathes Perth and Cottesloe beach, with its blinding white sand, in crystal, clear light.

Everything grows in such profusion. The magenta, white, and orange bougainvillea, and the umbrella, jacaranda, frangipani and flame trees, are all over, perfuming the air and invigorating the city with splashes of vibrant colour.

Nigel Satterley, a former boarding school friend – for three-years we slept side-by-side in the same dormitory, and now one of Australia’s most successful developers, took me for dinner to Kailis Bros Fish Market & Cafe in Leederville. The dhufish, fresh daily from Geraldton, was superb. I had forgotten the excellence of the state’s produce.

I pondered on the flight back to Melbourne. It is said ‘home is where the heart is’, which may be true, but I have never wanted to ‘live’ anywhere. I prefer to reside – ready to move-on in pursuit of new adventures.

It occurred to me, while I have no yearning to return permanently, I am still, at heart, a Western Australian. The sights, and sounds, and smells from those formative years are seared into my memory – they are part of psyche.

The desert reds and ochres are, forever, in my blood!

Roland can be  contacted via [email protected].