This is the final note I wrote to remember my travels by ... this was written while I sat on a strip of grass overlooking Cottesloe Beach, just outside of Perth in Western Australia.

Something about the way the sun casts against the skin here -- and the sand and the grass and the cement -- makes everything smell like a barbecue party.

Perth is a disappointment, but Cottesloe is a quiet reward. From yards away, the ocean is a distinct crystal green. A dark green lizard darts through the bush, creating conversation for two strangers. White parrot-like birds congregate on grass and in trees, like the funniest, creepiest freak show you've seen but chosen not to believe.

[Here are my other notes, on New Zealand's South Island, the snow in New Zealand, and autumn in Sydney.]