Our upstairs room promised the prospect of water views in the morning and some advice about eating options from the proprietress saw us striding purposefully towards the traffic lights which signalled the location of the restaurant precinct.
Eight-thirty on a Monday night isn’t the optimum time for an extensive appraisal of restaurant options so we opted for Asian at Red Rock, one of a number of noodle-oriented establishments scattered around the city and, from information received later on, across the nation.
But we didn’t know that at the time, did we?
And the hour was latish.
Madam’s pad thai was a bit spicier than she would have preferred but my red beef curry was fine, as was the $4.90 glass of the house Riesling (from a bottle, not a cardboard box). With those affairs dealt with it was time to head back southwards to the cot in the attic at Meleden Villa for a good night’s sleep before the real adventures began