It’s a typical summer night in Perth, and I’m standing at the top of the stairs overlooking the train station to Yagan Square, watching four tween-teens huff nangs on a rickety picnic table. I’m overcome by a wave of nostalgia — homesickness, even — for scenes, places and picnic tables I didn’t think existed anymore. But here they are, like it’s 2003.
The mining boom changed Perth, a lot. The money came thick and fast and the tsunami of wealth that came with it remoulded the city, in shape and spirit. Words like “redevelopment”, “rejuvenation” and “reimagination” were bandied about like passcodes for a mythic speakeasy: whisper them at the right doorway and a Valhalla of urban renewal will be revealed.
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