Dear Captain James Stirling,

let me take this opportunity to thank you for that momentous decision you made back in 1834. Quite splendid of you, old boy, to give us Western Australians a holiday on the first day of June. (And if that day should fall on a weekend, why, by Jove, take the Monday off, eh what?)

I’m sure you would have been quite chuffed if we had toddled off to Fremantle and spent some time at the Maritime Museum but we didn’t, sorry to say, old chap. Just couldn’t do it, this year, I’m afraid, because the Model Railway Exhibition was on. Master Builder wanted to go, of course, especially when he found out that the exhibition featured Lego trains amongst its displays.

The Librarian was going to take Master Builder while I stayed at home – I had planned a celebratory nap on the couch, you see, followed by a celebratory meal, followed by a post celebratory meal nap. I had a change of heart, though, because Lego is the Master Builder’s world and I wanted to be there to see his happy face. So we went to the show.

Except for the Game Guru. He celebrated by staying at home.

I must say that the Model Railway Exhibition was quite enthralling. There were little locomotives chugging and huffing and puffing everywhere you looked. Brought a nostalgic tear to the eye, old fruit. I remember fond times playing with my little Hornby. (I said Hornby, James; the train sets – you seagoing lot never rise above the level of the gutter, do you?) Made me want to pull out my wallet and start a new collection. Then I looked at the price tags.

The Hornby’s were of passing interest only for the Master Builder because his attention was on the centre of the pavilion. Actually everyone’s attention was on the centre because that was where the Perth Adult Lego Society had set up their display. It was huge, old boy, huge. All the toy shops of Perth must be devoid of Lego bricks. Lego trains hummed and buzzed and we followed a train as it journeyed through eclectic scenes.

The train wound its way past a mini Lego stage which was rocking to a mini figure band while two mini LCD screens showed “live” footage of the concert – U2 were on stage at the time we saw it; past a platform bustling with mini figures looking extremely annoyed that trains never stopped there;

past an inner city Jurassic park featuring a startled Tyrannosaurus Rex and a phlegmatic stegosaurus; past a (you’ll like this one, James, old boy) huge cruise ship about to embark on its maiden voyage;

past a myriad of scenes until it finally clattered across a 14m bridge – supposedly the largest Lego bridge ever made.

By the time we had seen all the displays the crowds had built up. This, as you know, doesn’t sit well with Master Builder. Much to his credit he managed to hold himself together as we made a final circuit around the pavilion looking for a souvenir. He finally found one that appealed to him and didn’t make my wallet burst into tears.

And that, dear Captain, is how we celebrated Foundation Day.

Yours sincerely,

Flying Saucer Jones

PS Here’s one for the Meccano lovers: