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IT WAS very cold at St Kilda Beach with a stiff Antarctic breeze coming off Bass Strait. The pier was jutting out over the long sweeping beach that made up part of the almost complete circle of Port Phillip. The dark towers of the city centre of Melbourne stood in the distance to the right.
I walked out onto the pier. At the end was a large cafe. Although I thought little of it at the time, it was famous having been there for a very long time. Just a few weeks later it burnt down to the ground never to be replaced.
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