Retro: Round Victoria's Port Phillip Bay by Public Transport
by nigel on 18-Jul-2017
[Way back in September 2009 when NilAligned was all shiny and new and did not have blogs, this was THE first 'blog' post, lovingly hand crafted in html]
"A journey begins with a single step". So we laced up our shoes, locked the door and wandered down the road to catch our first item of transport for the day, a number 96 Tram.
This is the busiest tram route in Melbourne and we travelled over the section that used to be the railway line from Melbourne to St Kilda. On its own dedicated route we passed over and under roads, past former railway stations and along the side of Albert Park where the first of the Saturday sports had yet to start. We got off at the old St Kilda Railway Terminus. The tram now continues on to Acland Street in St Kilda, notable for the many excellent cake shops, but today we had a date with a bus.
Having climbed aboard, the first thing to do is to get off again as we have forgotten to take its portrait, much to the bemusement of the driver. Its a delightful meandering journey through the coastal suburbs. This is a full size bus, but the route includes narrow streets with parked cars, small roundabouts and speed bumps to negotiate. We pass little village centres where the locals are sitting outside in the early spring morning waiting for their breakfast order to arrive. Its spring, so cherry blossom and wisteria and magnolia brighten the front gardens. At Cheltenham Railway Station, it is time to change mode again.
Now, of course, the simple way from Central Melbourne to Frankston is to catch the train. There is no need for a tram and a bus and it is much quicker too. However that is not the point of the exercise. We want to use all three forms of suburban transport, and thus we hop on board our electric train, and weve collected the set. We can also add Chelsea to the English-sounding Brighton, Hampton, Sandringham and Cheltenham that our bus route took in.
With time to kill before our next bus, in best Melbourne tradition we find ourselves a source of coffee with an accompanying biscuit or muffin. Suitably re-energised, we tackle the second bus of the day.
For the next hour and a bit we pass through the changing landscape as outer Melbourne gives way to the Mornington Peninsula. Often the shoreline is visible and a couple of large ocean-goers pass by busy maintaining international trade. Suburban gardens give way to paddocks and vineyards.
By the time we reach Sorrento the atmosphere is definitely weekend by the sea, and lunch just has to be fish and chips. And if you eat fish and chips by the seaside you have to have at least one seagull hanging around hoping for some of the meal. The couple at the next table down the beach seemed to be seagull-magnets and they were inundated with them, but we had our one, and here he is, complaining about the lack of handouts.
The Mornington Peninsula continues to its conclusion at Point Nepean but for us it was time to cross the bay and catch the only boat in this journey.
Every hour, on the hour, the ferry boat travels between Sorrento and Queenscliff and passes her sister doing the reverse trip. It was a fairly windy day but the ride was smooth and flocks of Australian White Ibis overtook us even into the headwind.
Queenscliff is the destination for the day. The afternoon is occupied with a guided tour of Fort Queenscliff where we learn that Australia fired the first Allied shots in both the First and Second World Wars. At a German freighter in the former and one of their own in the latter.
Queenscliff town centre, like a lot of Victorian towns, is full of wonderful buildings and we happily wander round and stare at them for a while. Then it is time to sit on a hotel veranda and enjoy a pleasant pre-dinner drink before dining at Apostle in one of the towns former churches. Good place, this great food, ample portions, and reasonable prices.
After a hearty morning breakfast we wander down to the Bellarine Railway station long before departure time. You do not just turn up and catch this train. You listen to it as it hisses, purrs, gurgles, humphs and whistles. You smell the hot oil, the steam and that irresistible smell of clinker.
Then we climb into a small compartment that could hold eight, open the windows and await the off. Slowly we pull away from Queenscliff and initially follow the shoreline. Everybody waves at you when you travel by steam train, even those for whom it a regular occurrence and of course you wave back. We leave the town and the shore, and pass fields of wheat, olives, canola, and sheep. The train slows as it climbs the hills and regains its speed at the summit. Wishing we could do it all again, we arrive at Drysdale.
In the interval before the bus to Geelong arrives, we talk with the volunteers who give up much of their time to run the railway.
The bus is wonderful too, but in a different way. It is quiet and smooth, and plays classical music at a discreet volume.
After disembarking in Geelong city centre, and finding a spot of lunch, we spend the afternoon in the National Wool Museum. We like museums and spend hours reading up on all we did not know about wool, sheep and the related industries of Geelong, carpets, cloth and clothes. There is a carpet making machine that before your very eyes produces wonderful patterned carpets without getting tangled, and a machine which makes pairs of socks including heel and toe. Like the steam train these machines have a life of their own.
Finally it is time to catch the last train. This consists of a pair of VLocity diesel hydraulic railcars. Over the next hour we cover the distance back to Melbourne. These railcars accelerate and decelerate rapidly and smoothly through the intermediate communities and countryside and finally cruise into Southern Cross.
A journey ends with a single step too, and we walk the last stretch home.
The Photos
"A journey begins with a single step". So we laced up our shoes, locked the door and wandered down the road to catch our first item of transport for the day, a number 96 Tram.
This is the busiest tram route in Melbourne and we travelled over the section that used to be the railway line from Melbourne to St Kilda. On its own dedicated route we passed over and under roads, past former railway stations and along the side of Albert Park where the first of the Saturday sports had yet to start. We got off at the old St Kilda Railway Terminus. The tram now continues on to Acland Street in St Kilda, notable for the many excellent cake shops, but today we had a date with a bus.
Having climbed aboard, the first thing to do is to get off again as we have forgotten to take its portrait, much to the bemusement of the driver. Its a delightful meandering journey through the coastal suburbs. This is a full size bus, but the route includes narrow streets with parked cars, small roundabouts and speed bumps to negotiate. We pass little village centres where the locals are sitting outside in the early spring morning waiting for their breakfast order to arrive. Its spring, so cherry blossom and wisteria and magnolia brighten the front gardens. At Cheltenham Railway Station, it is time to change mode again.
Now, of course, the simple way from Central Melbourne to Frankston is to catch the train. There is no need for a tram and a bus and it is much quicker too. However that is not the point of the exercise. We want to use all three forms of suburban transport, and thus we hop on board our electric train, and weve collected the set. We can also add Chelsea to the English-sounding Brighton, Hampton, Sandringham and Cheltenham that our bus route took in.
With time to kill before our next bus, in best Melbourne tradition we find ourselves a source of coffee with an accompanying biscuit or muffin. Suitably re-energised, we tackle the second bus of the day.
For the next hour and a bit we pass through the changing landscape as outer Melbourne gives way to the Mornington Peninsula. Often the shoreline is visible and a couple of large ocean-goers pass by busy maintaining international trade. Suburban gardens give way to paddocks and vineyards.
By the time we reach Sorrento the atmosphere is definitely weekend by the sea, and lunch just has to be fish and chips. And if you eat fish and chips by the seaside you have to have at least one seagull hanging around hoping for some of the meal. The couple at the next table down the beach seemed to be seagull-magnets and they were inundated with them, but we had our one, and here he is, complaining about the lack of handouts.
The Mornington Peninsula continues to its conclusion at Point Nepean but for us it was time to cross the bay and catch the only boat in this journey.
Every hour, on the hour, the ferry boat travels between Sorrento and Queenscliff and passes her sister doing the reverse trip. It was a fairly windy day but the ride was smooth and flocks of Australian White Ibis overtook us even into the headwind.
Queenscliff is the destination for the day. The afternoon is occupied with a guided tour of Fort Queenscliff where we learn that Australia fired the first Allied shots in both the First and Second World Wars. At a German freighter in the former and one of their own in the latter.
Queenscliff town centre, like a lot of Victorian towns, is full of wonderful buildings and we happily wander round and stare at them for a while. Then it is time to sit on a hotel veranda and enjoy a pleasant pre-dinner drink before dining at Apostle in one of the towns former churches. Good place, this great food, ample portions, and reasonable prices.
After a hearty morning breakfast we wander down to the Bellarine Railway station long before departure time. You do not just turn up and catch this train. You listen to it as it hisses, purrs, gurgles, humphs and whistles. You smell the hot oil, the steam and that irresistible smell of clinker.
Then we climb into a small compartment that could hold eight, open the windows and await the off. Slowly we pull away from Queenscliff and initially follow the shoreline. Everybody waves at you when you travel by steam train, even those for whom it a regular occurrence and of course you wave back. We leave the town and the shore, and pass fields of wheat, olives, canola, and sheep. The train slows as it climbs the hills and regains its speed at the summit. Wishing we could do it all again, we arrive at Drysdale.
In the interval before the bus to Geelong arrives, we talk with the volunteers who give up much of their time to run the railway.
The bus is wonderful too, but in a different way. It is quiet and smooth, and plays classical music at a discreet volume.
After disembarking in Geelong city centre, and finding a spot of lunch, we spend the afternoon in the National Wool Museum. We like museums and spend hours reading up on all we did not know about wool, sheep and the related industries of Geelong, carpets, cloth and clothes. There is a carpet making machine that before your very eyes produces wonderful patterned carpets without getting tangled, and a machine which makes pairs of socks including heel and toe. Like the steam train these machines have a life of their own.
Finally it is time to catch the last train. This consists of a pair of VLocity diesel hydraulic railcars. Over the next hour we cover the distance back to Melbourne. These railcars accelerate and decelerate rapidly and smoothly through the intermediate communities and countryside and finally cruise into Southern Cross.
A journey ends with a single step too, and we walk the last stretch home.
The Photos