When that arrived, we did a complete circuit, disembarking downtown where Madam had spotted a couple of candidates for camera action, then we were off back to the station for the train to Perth, landing in the downtown area in the middle of the five o'clock rush.
There were two tasks to be taken care of before I turned my thoughts to dinner, and the first (locating a place where we could leave the luggage on the final day) was fairly straight forward and took no more than two minutes.
From there we needed bottled water and emergency supplies for the car leg of the trip, and this is where tiredness and muddled thinking nearly brought us unstuck. For a start I seemed to recall sighting one of those new-breed supermarkets catering to the downtown unit-dweller that you find turning up in the CBD of most major centres somewhere close to both the Travelodge and the Comfort and thought these matters could be taken care of in the morning. Madam, on the other hand, wanted to sort things out tonight, but for some reason decided I looked tired and needed to be taken back to base, after which she'd venture downtown to do the shopping.
Some more jumbled thinking saw us walking all the way back to the Comfort, checking at Reception, discovering that the nearest supermarket was in the Hay Street Mall, and, after a brief rest we were back on the inbound Red Cat.
There were major road works just outside Perth Station, so once we'd bought a six-pack of bottled water, some biscuits and the odd bit of fruit we set off to find the Red Cat stop, only to find ourselves cut off from where it should have been by the construction site. A mad scramble back to the nearest place we knew boasted a Red Cat stop saw us safely on board what may well have been the final service of the night, and, shortly after seven with the emergency supplies safely in the room Madam could put her feet up and I turned my thoughts to dinner.
Two substantial lunches in two days meant I wasn't over-keen on a big evening meal, and while the restaurant at the Comfort included a prawn and pea risotto that looked just the ticket, a glance at the other side of the menu, where the basic wine list boasting the usual corporate suspects was on display had me turning my thoughts elsewhere. No, I thought, Caffe Italia's only a block away, they've got a much better wine list, and I can probably sneak in two glasses with an entree or maybe a small pizza.
So off I went.
While we'd been there on Monday just after five and found the place empty, this was a Thursday night around seven-fifteen. The place was packed, and there was a queue of intending diners that looked like three or four tables' worth. There were no obvious signs of a table close to finishing and, faced with a wait that could well be lengthy and every chance that a single eater who's in for an entree and a glass or two might find himself being pressured door-wards waiting for a table for one was not my preferred option. So, with a heavy heart, it was back to the Comfort for the risotto, which admittedly went down well, and a glass of Makers Table Cabernet, which mightn't have been the perfect match for the meal, but I needed red wine and it was the best of the by-the-glass options.
All things considered I wasn't the happiest of campers as I headed upstairs to rest up for the Wildflower leg of the odyssey.