|Pavement Cafe Bourke St Melbourne|
With his small backpack containing the towel Mrs Cumberledge had pressed on him, assuring him that he had only to shake the sand out of it afterwards, and she would wash it, in shorts and a T-shirt and his only shoes, his trainers, he set off to the beach.
As he passed through the city, he thought he'd better buy some bathers. He could swim in his shorts, he supposed, but then they'd be wet afterwards and he'd only brought one pair of shorts in his haste to leave England. It had been mid-winter there and stupidly he'd forgotten that it would of course be mid-summer in Australia.
He stopped in the city. The air was warm and magical, smelling of food and coffee and, faintly, of exhaust fumes. Right next to the tram stop was a coffee shop, and he ordered a coffee and a croissant, and sat at the tables outside watching the passers by. Directly opposite was a down-market department store. When he'd finished his coffee and fed the crumbs of his croissant to the pigeons, he went into the store.
[Image from Photographers Direct]