Election Day, 10th of February, 2001.

I was ready to leave the house by 8am. Ready, showered, coffeed; my note book in one hand, camera over my shoulder and two pens, just in case I lost one or it broke or something... stone cold sober... I had just spoken to Greens candidate for Nedlands, EJ (Elena Jeffreys), and was about to go on the campaign trail.

In the weeks that followed I have felt Mr Hunter S Thompson giving me a nasty glare. I was going to take his great title, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail, but had not yet paid the price. As a mark of respect, and partly due to the Hunter S glare, I have not had a good night's sleep for nearly a week and am for all intents and purposes a mess. My notes are sketchy, and my memory hazy, yet it is now that I write this story. Apologies to EJ whom I respect even more than HST.

We arranged to meet at my local booth at about 8:20am. EJ had been up since six and was well on the way to doing the polling booth rounds. In the few moments before she arrived I took the opportunity to vote. As I walked up to the booth a guy from Liberals for Forests held out a how to vote card. "No thanks," I said, "I'm voting greens". "That's OK. We're the same anyway."

I looked around. He and the other two Liberals for Forests people had matching black shirts with a giant green leaf, also on their shirts they had a sash with a 'Vote for Liz' slogan and spotted around the building were huge posters. Sure, they were for the old growth forests, and running against the Court government, but rich conservatives looking after their investment properties down south were hardly the same as the Greens. A wooded chardonnay does not count as a bond with nature.

There were fifteen booths in the Nedlands electorate and throughout the day we would visit every one, most of them twice and a few of them three times. To cover the booths all day EJ had organised 60 volunteers, mostly old uni hacks that had probably helped EJ all through her Guild elections, then the state election, and then federal election... In this country, and even more in the February 10th state election, having people on the booths is perhaps the highest priority for the day. A lot of people are confused by the preference system (which is why they have a slightly modified version in QLD). I mean, they handed out how to vote cards at the referendum for the republic.

Arriving at Dalkeith Primary, the Liberal heartland, I saw why Liz Davenport was so keen on the huge posters and slick marketing. Was I a little too harsh earlier? Somehow they had got in before the Liberals and plastered the whole school with the now-familiar posters. Faces of Richard Court were forced to peep out at ground level and the frilly blue and white ribbons worn by the Liberal crew were looking like a decided second place in terms of style and presence.

When we arrived there was a lot of tension coming from under the blue and white umbrella. An old lefty by the name of Ian was representing the EJ at Dalkeith. He had actually asked to be put on the toughest booth and this was it. Ian explained that Court had passed through earlier and was not happy by being beaten to his own stronghold by the Liz Davenport propaganda machine. Apparently, Richard had exchanged a few words with the booth captain (the guy who sets up the booth), and then spoke to the electoral commission to see if the Liberals for Forests had broken any rules. Sure, it seems a bit childish to take amusement from that now, but on the day every little victory was cherished, and at that stage I still thought Court might have a chance of retaining government.

At Dalkeith Primary I also saw my first cake stall for the day. It was certainly not the last. P & C ladies, church groups and community centres must get just as excited as the politicians when an election is coming up. Eight out of ten polling places I went to had a cake stall, and all of them were sold out by lunchtime. At the start of the day I would have thought them to be the leaders in election entrepeneurial savvy, had I not seen a chap, apparently a Major in the Salvation Army, selling pot plants from his front yard across the road from the Hollywood polling venue. And even he was overtaken by two little kids at Dalkeith Primary, who were selling cans of soft drink for a modest profit.

It was at Hollywood High School that we first bumped into Richard Court. He strode in wearing a cream short-sleeved shirt and cream pants, followed closely by his wife. EJ asked if he could stop for a photo, but by the time he declined I had already taken three. Sir Charles Court proved to be a little less camera shy than his son. He was out and about and in fine form at Nedlands primary. When he realised EJ was a candidate he stopped for a bit of a chat, was very polite, and agreed to a few photos. He was telling EJ how, at his first election, sometime in the 50's, it was them trying to get rid of an Independent. Now, in 2001, it was Independents trying to get rid of them.

Sir Charles then turned his attention to me. "You need to put on some weight," he said. It was true. But when I tried to explain that as an employee of the guild during VSU my wages don't leave much for food, he, always the professional, glazed his eyes and changed the topic.

At 6pm, after booth after booth after booth, I separated from EJ. She was heading to the ABC tally room and I was heading into Dalkeith Primary to scrutinise. I watched as the primaries began to rise far above the sheet labelled Court. It looked like Court was going to retain his seat... at that stage I had no idea what was occuring around the state. In the end, Richard Court retained his seat, but lost his government. EJ got 6.1 percent of the primary vote, a swing in the Greens' favour of 5%.

EJ chose to run in a seat that has been safe Liberal since before she was born, a conservative seat with two strong conservative candidates. It was always going to be the hardest seat in the state. But EJ knew that. I think that's why she wanted to run in Nedlands.

I think that's why I had to be there.