Susan Buckland: Ciao to the king of the karris

COMMENT

There can be few "Little Italys" quite as "little" as the Italian community of Pemberton in southwest Australia. Yet small though their number is in that timber town, they have brought to Pemberton the zest and zing of Little Italys everywhere.

Cella (pronounced "Chella") was my introduction to the Italians of Pemberton. Or "Bella Cella", as she introduced herself with a beaming smile. She had appeared from the kitchen of Cafe Mazz next to the old Pemberton Hotel, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached.

"What can I do for you, my lovely?" It was only 6.30am, cold and still not light outside. But she was full of life and flourishing gestures. "Bella Cella," I said, lingering on the words in the hope they would sound as musical as she had made them, despite her otherwise broad Australian accent. "Are you by chance of Italian descent?"

"Am I ever, my gorgeous! I left Italy with my parents when I was only nine. We had a farm there. But my father brought us to Australia because there was the promise of work in the timber mills. And you could buy land if you worked hard."

And it was a similar story for many of the Italians who had settled in Pemberton, she said. Her mother and father came to the new country. They worked hard and eventually were able to buy a farm near Pemberton.

She said they have been together now for 58 years and she has never once heard them argue. They love their farm in their adopted home. Cella loves her Australian home, too. But she said it was impossible to forget where you came from.

I had dragged myself out of bed to make an early start on the road south.

Cella was enthusiastic about launching me into the day with a breakfast that would do me until dinner time. She was pleased I had stayed the night around the corner in the Old Picture Theatre Apartments.

Funny to think how you can get comfortable apartments out of an old picture theatre, she thought.

The name "Cafe Mazz", in case I was interested - which I was - was short for Mazzarelo, the surname of the family that owned the cafe and adjoining Pemberton Hotel.

They were Italians, in case I was wondering. The previous evening in the main bar of the hotel I had met Joe (Giuseppe) Mazzarelo, who explained that his parents had found their way to Pemberton to make a new life among the mighty karri trees of southwest Australia.

There were no regrets. Joe, his wife and young children enjoyed a 28ha backyard surrounded by magnificent trees. And fishing for rainbow and brown trout in the rivers and for ocean fish at the coast. He thinks Pemberton is the perfect place.

So do his friends, the Omodei family. There are now so many Omodei relatives that you can go into the pub in the evening and call out "Omodei" and you will get a chorus of responses.

In a population of only 900, Cella believes it is not hard to discover people, although the ratio of trees to people in Pemberton is thousands to one.

The king of karris in Pemberton is the Gloucester tree in the Gloucester National Park. It's the highest fire lookout tree in the world - 153 rungs spiralling up to a viewing platform 60m above the ground.

"Some people chicken out of climbing the Gloucester tree and miss out on a view of magnificent karri forests all around," said Cella.

She patted the buttocks of a carved wooden figure of a woman taking pride of place in Cafe Mazz. "She is made of karri. Isn't she lovely?"

In her effervescent way so is Bella Cella. A warm-hearted member of Pemberton's Little Italy.