Funny thing about weekends in OZ; their dynamic patterns seems reversed from North America. Back home Sunday mornings are for church or sleeping in, followed by a leisurely perusal of the biggest newspaper of the week, with a chance of a fine Sunday roast thrown in. Saturdays are for scurrying around to garage & produce sales, athletic participation-formal or casual, picnics, entertainment and general merrymaking.
Rather opposite here in Perth. There are more garage sales and plenty of farmers' markets on Sunday than Saturday, people make their way out of their homes first thing and there is Sunday shopping starting early in the downtown area. On my way home from church this morning, I took the few blocks worth of detour to visit the kangaroo on Heirisson Island. The foreshore was a busy beehive: a 10K footrace was underway, jillions of independent joggers and enough cyclists in regulation wear to think that the Tour de France had changed location. Even the mob of 'roo was out in full force.
It's Saturday mornings where naught but birds bother to get excited about the day. The biggest newspaper of the week is the Saturday edition. Even the lawn bowls clubs don't bother to unlock their doors before noon, which is odd considering the high temperatures during the long summers.
I haven't figured out why this is. Perhaps it is the contrariness, er, I mean, independent spirit of the place that moves to a nonconforming beat.
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