Quokkas are inquisitive little fellahs, for that read… cheeky little buggers, who are really rather endearing despite their naughty little habit of sneaking up on unsuspecting tourists and popping their nose in your pocket while you’re supping a pint of enjoying a scalding cup of coffee. Well ho, ho ho, it’s really funny. At least to the Quokkas. Who have, I’m sure, worked out that their actions cause the human victim to leap from their chair, shriek with surprise and empty the content of their drink down their front. Yep, it happened to me and very much to the mirth of Heide and all around I should add.

Rotto is a small place. The island is only 11km by 4km so it’s cycle friendly, especially as the only motorized vehicles are the odd rangers car and a very, very, slow moving bus for those who elect not to ride. Consequently  pretty much everyone is on two wheels and can be found puffing and panting as they power themselves up any of the numerous hills that dot the island.

Heide and I got ourselves a pair of bikes (err, sorry Heide there is no chance were getting a tandem!) I rode like a demented cross between Bart Simpson and Lance Armstrong. That is to say as quickly as possible while “showing off” (according to Heide) or just “being a little boy” is my description. This meant riding with no hands, steering with the feet, doing really great skids and generally clowning around. I imagine that you get the picture all too easily. Heide meanwhile was riding as if she was sitting for a cycling proficiency test, all the road rules applied (except a rather important one… in all civilized countries we drive on the left hand side, not the right. Whoops!) Her poise and approach could have spawned a new sport, bicycle dressage, but guess who it was that fell off their bike and skinned their knee? (a really bloody, scabby war wound as it goes. I took a great photo of said wound, so deep you could almost paint the patella!) but the owner of this gaping hole may not allow the snap shot to be posted for your viewing pleasure (I imagine that by now you’ve figured out that it was Heide’s knee and as she is the one who knows how to work this website properly she gets the final editors call on the pickies selected. I wish it were my knee, loads of little boy points for that much blood!) On the plus side we were able to open our first aid kit for the first time on the holiday. So it’s true, there is a silver lining to every dark cloud! And the moral of the story… be a clown; it’s safe. Be steady and you’ll be deady-ish! (Ok so that doesn’t make a particularly good grammatical moral for the story but you get the drift)

The coast line of Rotto is a gem. It has many small coves, a few sweeping bays and some rocky outcrops all lapped, or lashed, depending on the location by the glorious waters of the Indian Ocean. It is a wonderful idylic island that could be a million miles from anywhere; not as it is, only 19km off the coast from Fremantle.

From Rottsnest we’ll be heading south to Rockingham, where hopefully we’ll spot Dolphin and Penguins.