“THAT’S THE WRONG DOOR,” someone giggles as a group of strangers push through a set of library shelves ahead of us. My friend Sally and I find ourselves laughing, too, as we follow them beyond the foyer walls. On the other side, black-and-white-clad bartenders sing and shimmy to Runaround Sue as they shake and stir flamboyant cocktails for canoodling couples. Hidden in the basement of Fremantle’s Old Synagogue, L’Chaim– a Hebrew toast that means ‘to life’ – is reminiscent of speakeasy bars of the 1920s and 1930s: think red-velvet semi-circular booths, crystal chandeliers, framed mirrors, tasselled lamps, candlelight, top-shelf liquors and a feature wall tastefully decorated with bound books and retro knick-knacks.
I ask the bartender, Dylan, to make me “something artistic to watch” and he obliges. After witnessing careful…
