Welcome to Cottesloe, where the sea sparkles as brightly as the tennis bracelets holding martinis at Tigerfish, billionaires and blow-ins fill Il Lido’s courtyard in identical uniforms of thongs and holey T-shirts, every price includes an ocean tax, and progress moves at the pace of the SUVs crawling along Marine Parade on a sunny day.
In our first 48 Hours In travel feature, we’re looking past the world-famous beach, the grand homes and the line for Sunday sessions at The Cott to live like a local, trying the brand new and the stalwart and, with any luck, finding a few gems along the way.
Friday 3pm
We start at Cottesloe House, our base for the weekend and so new we’re among the first guests. Naturally, I’ve packed for a fortnight, my suitcase and tote bag appearing more like I’m moving in than a weekend guest.
On being handed a welcome drink in the relaxed lobby, which feels more a stylish bar than reception, my partner and I mark the first of roughly 100 times we look at each other and declare “this is living”.
The second comes minutes later, as one of the many vibrant staff members leads us past a pool area of plump sunbeds lined up under white and chocolate-striped umbrellas to our two-level residence suite.
Interior designer Jo Carmichael has nailed a tricky brief: the suite feels luxurious, but not so precious that we worry about the sand we’ll inevitably traipse through after a swim. Downstairs there’s an open living space, a balcony with barbecue and even a small laundry tucked into the powder room. Upstairs lies the bedroom with pitched ceiling and an enormous bed, and a bathroom with tub and sky-lit rainfall shower.
Friday 5pm
This is when Cottesloe comes to life, as the working week is ticked off, office workers are flocking in and holidaymakers are sauntering across the road from the beach to the bar.
Indigo Oscar is a natural first stop. Right on the ocean, with a light-filled dining room plus outdoor area, it shakes some of the best spicy margaritas in Perth, and with an oyster or six it’s the perfect perch before sunset.
Tigerfish became the It girl for dinner with friends the moment it opened. I once wondered why the dining room was positioned at the back of the building, sans ocean views, but a heaving Friday night reveals my concerns were unnecessary. For locals though, it has simply become another spot for dinner, rather than a destination. Must be nice.
Though you don’t have to have a trendy colour palette or photographic interior to pull a crowd, as the front bar of The Cottesloe Hotel (which opened in 1905) proves. It’s packed, amber beers lining the front tables, nobody fussed by the harsh sun because they achieved the impossible of nabbing a table, and know what colours are coming.
Friday 7pm
Back at Cottesloe House, we’re asked to put the staff through their paces ahead of what is shaping up to be a busy summer. My partner works his way through the cocktail menu (the frozen Hemingway his favourite), with chilled back-ups waiting in the room fridge, while pregnancy has me on sparkling water, neat, or freshly pressed orange juice.
From the room-service menu we order steak with peppercorn sauce, a bowl of chips and a baby gem salad with chicken, sultanas, toasted macadamias and curry vinaigrette which sounds like a lot on paper, yet it’s one of the tastiest plates I’ve eaten this year.
Saturday 7.30am
We take the morning at Cottesloe pace. Almond cappuccinos arrive to the room in a reuseable cup, followed by a breakfast tray of warm freshly baked bread, cheese, ham, berries, avocado, boiled eggs and pastries. A snack plate on the sun deck is declaration No.3.
The beach calls, and it’s already full of fit bodies swimming the length of the shark net, surf lifesavers on watch and families splashing in the shallows. If you want to avoid the crowds, the shoreline at the bottom of Grant Street offers still waters and a stretch of coast where you can secure some private real estate, rather than playing towel tetris.
Early morning is Cottesloe’s other peak hour, as streams of people merge into its bustling cafes. Il Lido is a local favourite, whether for a takeaway or a sit-down brekkie paired with the paper. Newcomer Driphouse has drawn a crowd, and a few streets back from the beach, Daisies is pumping — proof its reputation doesn’t rest on an ocean view.
Back at the hotel, we spend the rest of the morning by the pool, music playing before fellow guests gather and chat away. Glasses of ice-cold water arrive without asking, along with offers of food and drinks. General manager Al Gater wanders through and introduces himself, a nice touch.
Saturday 12pm
Life doesn’t stop for a staycation, so with a 40th on the horizon, we pop quickly to Napoleon Street for some window shopping.
There’s no walking past Sal’s Pasta — happy faces fill the outdoor tables, eating from the seasonal menu, while just as many duck in for colourful sandwiches (the ripe tomato, pesto and mozzarella hits the spot), takeaway pasta and coffee. It’s the place to find gourmet gifts for the friend who has everything, from jars of Sicilian sourced seafood to oils and sweets.
Heartwood is another must, even if it’s just the scent of sandalwood drifting out the door that draws you in. Treatments book out weeks ahead, but there are plenty of skin and beauty products to try and smiling staff to help.
Along the stroll there’s a bookshop and string of clothing stores, priced anywhere from golden triangle to Ghanda, with Assembly Label a happy middle group for capsule wardrobe pieces.
Saturday 6pm
After a long day of exploring, nothing beats the rainfall shower, with an exfoliating then magnesium body wash from Somic, and a shampoo and conditioner that actually leaves your hair soft, rather than brittle like so many hotel offerings.
This attention to detail is everywhere, from towels that are impossibly soft to complimentary snacks like rock candy, house-made granola and pots of Meredith Dairy yoghurt, all of which are devoured across the weekend in a robe. Everything tastes better in a robe. There’s a Dyson hairdryer, bikes to borrow and two Mini Coopers to zip around in.
We don’t have time on this trip, but there’s even a house yacht available to charter to Rottnest. Yes, really. This is a hotel that wants you living like a local for your whole stay, which is both a lovely and a depressing thing when you’re returning to a yacht-less existence.
Not wanting to miss sunset, we wander down to the beach with what feels like half of Perth (summer is coming) and watch the sky turn tones of coral and turmeric.
From there we cut through the Cottesloe Civic Centre gardens, one of the prettiest picnic spots in Perth, and on to The Boatshed, Perth’s answer to Erewhon, for a dinner haul. The produce glistens, the cabinets are stocked with fresh salads and hot meals, and a $15 chocolate mousse is calling my name. The weekend is doing a good job of making me forget that neither I nor my bank account are actually locals.
Sunday 8am
No trip to the golden triangle is complete without a stop at the Beach Bus, which feels like a hidden gem right up until you see the queue. Parked up in front of Mosman Beach, with a new seating area making it even more comfortable, its acai bowls are legendary.
After passing North Cottesloe and the scattering of bodies bobbing on their surfboards, we head back inland, wandering wide streets with wider blocks and enormous homes. I can’t help wondering who lives in them, and how.
Passing John Street Cafe, the kind of neighbourhood joint any suburb would be lucky to have, we arrive back at Cottesloe House for the final time. One more magnesium-soaked shower, one more sip of free orange juice, one more moment in the sun on the balcony.
This is living.
Jade Jurewicz was a guest of Cottesloe House. They have not seen or influenced this story before publication.
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