Fremantle

The day before our flight back to Melbourne, I tagged along with Christine to Fremantle. It’s a small town off Perth. If the population in Perth made its money through mining, Fremantle—or Freo to the locals—is believed to be the domain of the old rich, whose forays are inscribed in the town’s symbols from sailing and yachting to really good beer.


It’s unfortunate that I was only able to spend an afternoon in Fremantle, otherwise there would have been more food to write about. It’s the perfect place to be idle and lazy. So much colonial architecture can be found in the very center of town, that you can get lost roaming about and never really bother crossing the same path twice the first time you’re around. Aside from old edifices, there’s a bevy of interesting al fresco places lining the streets, quaint little shops that sell everything from books to snuggies—those fleece blankets with sleeves Christine and I thought could only be bought through Australia’s insidious home shopping networks that were everywhere on TV.


First food stop was the Fremantle Market filled with bountiful treats. I grabbed a fairly huge donut...


...and a Spinach and Feta Gozleme from a friendly Turkish immigrant who says that his are the best in town only to candidly admit eventually that he’s probably the only one who sells them in town. Gozleme, as I would figure out eventually, is traditional hand-made Turkish pastry cooked on a hot griddle.


A couple of hours later, we were downing our first pints of beer at the Little Creatures brewery, overlooking the ocean. Christine and I tried the Bright Ale, and I was hooked. It had a fruity taste to it that reminded me of the beer in Brew Brothers found along the rotunda of Tomas Morato before it closed. That was my favorite beer ever, but this fruity and mildly sweet beer from Little Creatures is comparably good. And addicting.


Before getting completely drunk, Christine suggested we try the local food for dinner and found ourselves next door where there were two fish and chips joints. There were hardly any customers in the first restaurant so we decided to go to Cicerello’s whose claim to serving Western Australia’s best fish and chips was validated by a huge crowd. It was so packed that we had to eat outside in the freezing cold. Unfortunately, the fish and chips was just okay.


So we capped our mediocre dinner by going back to Little Creatures. By then the place was teeming with people that we had to sit in the extension which was far more quiet but featured a set of memorabilia, most of which turned out to be actual merchandise for sale.


This is where I bought my first customary souvenir tourist shirt.


And Christine got to take home this picture of her drunk.