day 10

Both bars on and Vim under the sink this morning: rain has kept us housebound.

The plan was to go fishing at 0630, but the rain put someone off. Rotto Bloggo's associate said it was too wet, and he only bought two pairs of pants.

I ask you. Did Diggers at Gallipoli refuse to go ashore because their trousers might get wet?

So we were here for the savoury muffins whicked up by Mrs Rotto Bloggo. She used a packet mix but enlivened it with feta, spinach and some other goodies.

Local Blog Man That Cooks has an amusing riff about Rotto: the culinary chap was recently on the beautiful island and made baked beans. He used tinned tomatoes.

Rotto is "a rocky outcrop 12 miles off the coast of Perth that's covered with scrub and salt lakes and tiny rat-like kangaroos that shit everywhere. Accommodation is ex-prison, turn of the century worker's cottage, post-WWII migrant camp, or 1970's unit complex for upper level Soviet bureaucrats. The only vehicles are service vehicles, two police cars and buses. One of them is an aboriginal tour bus and I wonder if they're too polite to mention that under the ground is the bones of their incarcerated ancestors."

But then he lists some of the benefits, and concludes: "It's like the idealised caravan park of my youth without the caravan and without the roller rink."

Then: "There's a lot of guff about Rottnest being the holiday spot for the average West Australian. It's not. It's actually filled with AB demographic Western Suburbanites slumming it. But it does retain some magic and it's this – holiday spots are now places for resorts or holiday homes. Resorts always feel like someone else's place and holiday homes are now more like the home you have in the suburbs. Get in the car, go to the supermarket, get back in the car. I'm just wondering why they can't create communities like at Rottnest, on the mainland."

Is trueness? An associate did spot Reg 'The Toecutter' Withers on Rotto this week. With him were other crusty old buffers resembling Liberal Party dinosaurs.

However: a letter in The West today is from a Bunbury woman who makes an annual pilgrimage to Rottnest every year, and challenges the paper to locate somewhere by the beach that's just as good for $250 a night.

Check out Man That Cook's baked beans here - sounds good.