Thursday, 98 August
I've remarked elsewhere on Madam's skills when it comes to finding accommodation that's convenient to our next day's plans and the rate we'd paid at the Travelodge was more than we'd be looking at normally (admittedly it was also probably a better room than we'd get for what we pay normally) so it probably comes as no surprise to learn that Thursday morning saw us, once we'd showered and packed, checking out and setting off for that night's accommodation.
The game plan, as far as I was concerned, involved relocation, a look around the CBD on at least one of the CAT services, and a wander through the far end of Hay Street, where I'd get the chance to stumble across what was, by all accounts, a CD store (78 Records). Around eleven-thirty, we could make our way to the station, catch a train to Fremantle, and then spend the afternoon wandering around the Maritime Museum and various historic buildings. That plan lasted about fifty metres once we'd made our way through the front door of the Travelodge and were heading east along Hay Street.
I heard a cry of anguish and turned to find the sole and upper of Madam's left shoe had parted company and any attempt to raise the foot produced a duck's bill waggling under it. It was a fair step down to the Perth Comfort Hotel, where we found, wonders will never cease, our room was ready for immediate occupancy.
That made two out of two and I couldn't help suspecting that this was no coincidence. The hospitality trade in Perth was heavily dependent on the fly in fly out mining trade, and I suspect cashed up miners in transit to or from their place of employment didn't want to be messed around waiting for a 2 p.m. check-in time. I may be wrong, but I don't recall many previous 9 a.m. instances of your room is ready, and, as stated, this made two out of two.
Fortunately, when it came to the Shoe Replacement Stakes Madam was already aware of a Harbour Town towards the other end of downtown Perth, so it was a case of onto the Red Cat in search of replacement footwear. That task wasn't all that difficult, but involved a loss of time, and my visit to 78 Records had to be arranged as something other than an alleged accidental discovery.
78 Records is one of those places where Hughesy could spend hours and an awful number of ducats, but the circumstances only permitted a brief glance and I wandered out ten minutes later with the Rhino Where The Action Is 4CD box and a stubby cooler.
From there it was off to Freo.
One suburban train trip in a major city is much like another, though I can't think of too many that match the section of track that gives a spectacular view of the Indian Ocean before dog-legging through East Fremantle and crossing the river to reach its destination.
On the ground in the port city, we set off in search of fish and chips, a journey that took us through Fremantle’s West End with its late Georgian and Victorian-style architecture at the southern end of the port.