Fremantle

After Margaret River we went to a place called Bunbury, which boasts it is a dolphin mecca. We saw none. We sped off to the North and to a place called Fremantle, which is Perth's supposedly cooler cousin, with lots of nightlife and things to do. We stayed in yet another hostel where everyone seemed to live and work there, and it was very much like staying in someone else's bedroom. We met a lovely young chap (read 'idiot') called Dean, from Manchester, who had arrived in Fremantle 3 months ago and still hadn't left, slowly boozing his money away, and told us that it was the greatest place on earth and that whether we liked it or not we would eventually find ourselves working there. We decided to prove 'Deano' wrong and only stayed for a couple of nights, not before visiting Fremantle jail, which was pretty awesome! We had a tour from a former prison guard, called Jim (!) and he was from Clydebank in Scotland, but he assured me he hadn't had a previous career at Henry Schein before he emigrated. He showed us about and saw everything including the gallows! Other than that there wasn't much to do, oh except we went to officially the most boring museum in the world. Even the people working there looked like they were losing the will to live, not suprising it was all about fishing up old twigs from the sea and stuff like that.