Having some gap in travel experiences, so I’m reposting some of my favorites.
My fellow tourists and I were filing into the city watch house for what I thought was a tour when I got a rude awakening. “Women to my right, men to my left,” barked the very large man in a police sergeant’s uniform who had opened the door to us. “Back to the wall. No talking.”
He handed each of us a laminated card as we filed past him. Mine said that my name was Sally Shoreland and that I’d been arrested for aggravated assault …with a potato peeler…against a police officer. That had landed me in the Mebourne city watch house.
A watch house is like a city jail in the States — a stop for those awaiting sentencing, or transportation to prison, or sleeping off a drunk and disorderly. This watch house had been built in 1906 and was located between the city courts and the city gaol. It had closed in 1994 and, left as it was…
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