We wait patiently for our fish and chips at the San Remo Fishermans Co-Op in Victoria. We can’t help but be impressed by the slick operation as the place is packed and baskets are dropping into the fryers one after the other. Oh no, are crayfish really $125kg! Growing up in a fishing town we used to pay 10 shillings each for them whenever unexpected guests dropped in. But that was the 1950’s before global markets. Outside the co-op the sun sparkles on the water, fishing trawlers are tied to the wharf and traffic plies the bridge to the island. A lady of about our age sidles up to us waving her plastic buzzer with bright red digits on it. “What number are you?” she asks “43” we chirp in unison. “Oh I’ll be waiting a while I’m “09”. Before we can stop her she disappears into the crowd and we giggle, I hope she didn’t go too far.