Punk and Gatt Present the Amazing Race Around Perth

So I stumbled across this in my documents and never actually showed anyone. For those of you that were lucky enough to partake in this incredible event organised by one Michael Gatt (and whose blog you should also check out http://punkluckdesign.blogspot.com/) and Mr Andrew "Punk" Brookes, this will hopefully be a race down memory lane. For anyone else foolish enough to read this thing, hopefully you get the idea of what this fantastic day was about! Oh, also you should definitely check out the amazing (no pun intended) trailer at the end brought to you by PGav!

Sorry!One more thing, as usual, this thing isn't finished :)


Punk and Gatt Present The Amazing Race around Perth

Part One – Start to Stage Three

A bucket full of keys thrown into a typical warm Perth breeze followed by a manic scramble of fairy wings, a married couple, martial artists, punk rockers and criminal escapees shot gunned the beginning of the first Amazing Race around Perth. Following the directions of one of the organisers (Punk) of “almost anything goes” contestants threw their competitors keys in every direction, as people frantically searched for their belongings and made a mad dash to their cars to be the first off the block to secure pole position to the first stop. Straight off the bat a contestant's work vehicle (of which the company shall not be named) careered left of round-about to be speeding their way to the first stop as described by the not-so cryptic clue left on the windscreen while the contestants were being prepped for the race. Teams were quickly separated as they took to their own routes, either in search of bonus points or to gain the upper hand and complete the tasks with haste.

The first task indicated that the wicket-keeping skills of Gilchrist were required at the DNA Tower in Kings Park. Since Gilly was presumably unavailable at the time, our own catching prowess would have to suffice. Upon landing at the destination amid illegally parked cars and potential saboteurs, Punk informed the teams as they dribbled in that one member would be required to sprint up the tower holding five water balloons and drop them to their partner below where he or she simply had to catch only one of the falling bombs. This was obviously easier said than done as evident by those with drenched t-shirts and wet hair (although I'm pretty sure Punk didn't help their cause) but even they were soon on their way to stop number two.

The next challenge given was to find the next John Butler in Fremantle and have a photo with the “talented” busker. Of course in between these challenges bonus points were awarded for various feats which were not always easy to accomplish but those who went out of the way were duly rewarded come the end of the race. Luckily for teams who were not so adept at these bonus point challenges, easy points were on the cards (unless you were hooning down on a motorcycle) if you were quick enough with the camera on Stirling Highway to take a snapshot of the iconic big red dingo on the flour mill. The biggest problem with this type of race involving Fremantle is the limited legal parking space. Fortunately, if you were resourceful enough (e.g., willing to stretch the definition of “legal parking”) this problem was easily solved and all that remained was to find a willing busker. My partner and I were lucky enough to find an accordionist fellow, wise in his years, who was more than willing to accommodate us and another team with a smile which just goes to show that Freo folk aren't as kooky as you may expect.

The third challenge required contestants to traverse the oft-rumoured “Highway to Hell” east down Canning Highway in search of Gatt apparently playing rugby in a park somewhere. A serious, high-stakes event such as this would not be complete without some sort of culinary confrontation. Like a frat-boy social, one member was to be blindfolded while the team mate fed an unknown “food” to the other. Personally, the canned food was not the gastronomical abhorrence I had psyched myself up for, but I wouldn't go out of my way to buy two dollar canned chicken again.