Catching a wave in Australia

At Uncle Joe's Mess Hall, you can get a trim and vegan food.

A fast ferry carried me to South Perth to wander along the Swan River, where black swans glide. I went north to the Subiaco neighborhood, known for its funky Sunday market. Several short subway stops away was Mount Lawley, where I found a community radio station, vintage shops and a popular comedy night at the Brisbane Hotel, exuding East Los Angeles-style cool. The nearby town of Fremantle, meanwhile, felt like an Australian version of New York City's South Street Seaport. It is packed with 19th century buildings, organic restaurants and coffee shops. At the Fremantle Prison, built in the 1850s and now a fascinating museum, I was stunned by the Aboriginal art gallery, with its vibrant paintings and murals, many depicting the racist legacy of Australia's criminal justice system. Later I watched the sun set while listening to a jazz trio at Little Creatures, a warehouse of a microbrewery where, amid the nooks and crannies, there's a sandy beer garden and magnificent outdoor terrace.

To go to Western Australia and not experience its beach scene－a 25-minute subway ride from the city－is akin to visiting Los Angeles and shunning Malibu. The water in both places, actually, is equally frosty, but the visuals in Perth make up for it. Scarborough Beach beckons with mammoth waves and a sea of people showing off perfect abs and deep tans. At Cottesloe Beach I settled in with a glass of rosé at the newly renovated Cottesloe Beach Hotel, a former beer garden turned trendy hotel: white, airy and Palm Springs-retro with its 1950s-style decor. The water was calmer here, and the coast fringed by Norfolk pine trees.

Before leaving, I took two short day trips to Perth's neighboring miniworlds. Historic Swan Valley－not, in fact, a valley but a charming 32-kilometer loop－is the closest wine district to any Australian capital. There are century-old heritage buildings, along with worthy Aboriginal sites, but the primary attraction is worth signing onto a bus tour for: 41 boutique wineries, five microbreweries, two distilleries, and even two chocolate factories, good for staving off a hangover.

The newly refurbished Crown Perth complex is in the city itself but might as well be its own sumptuous planet: casino, high-end retail, two luxury hotels and a third－soon to be the city's largest and what's being called its only "six-star" property－on the way. There's a 2,300-seat theater staging shows like "Jersey Boys" and 32 restaurants and bars, including La Vie Champagne lounge and one of two Nobus in Australia.

Settling into a cobalt-blue cabana alongside the serpentine pool crowded with gleefully tipsy vacationers, I spied the roped-off "enclave" section reserved for high-rollers and watched hungry masses line up for the lavish buffet. I could have been in Vegas or Dubai, really, but I didn't mind. In the context of the progressive, user-friendly, oh-so-funky city that Perth has become, this little pocket of what it might have been beckoned with just the right dose of urban excess.