Australia 1998

Wednesday 14 January — Lorne to Sorrento

Nonetheless, I was up at a reasonable hour and off, fortified by a pint of milk from the supermarket followed by tea, fruit salad and yoghurt in the cafe, to catch the 1040 bus back to Geelong. There, I had an hour and a half (which I failed to use constructively) to wait for another bus down the Bellarine Peninsula to Queenscliff. The town was established as a pilot station and became a fashionable seaside resort for the citizens of Melbourne in the 19th century. I saw little of the town as the bus deposited me at the ferry terminal for the short sail across the mouth of Port Phillip Bay to Sorrento.

This is operated by a slow catamaran “Queenscliff”, built in Port Lincoln in South Australia in 1993, length about 60 metres, beam 16.4 metres and draft 2.3 metres and displacement 950 tonnes (loaded). She has a car capacity of 149 lane metres and carries 300 passengers. I saw little of the interior fittings (and remember less) as I spent most of the 40 minute crossing on the small open deck at the stern.

At Sorrento, a sign said “follow road signs up hill” for the hostel but I choose the wrong hill and ended up in a park where I spent half an hour sheltering under the eaves of a toilet block while a thunderstorm went past. Back to the pier and try the other hill and there were indeed signs which led me to the hostel. It was pretty full but could accommodate me for at least one night so I decided to stay and got a bed in the “overflow room”, in the manager’s house. All the facilities were available there except a kitchen, I’d have to use the one in the hostel. Oddly enough, the hostel was full of women and children.

I went out for a walk around the town, near the site of the first white settlement in Victoria in 1803, Sullivan Bay, which lasted just one year as they picked a site with no water. A pleasant town, still graced by some hotels built in the last quarter of the 19th century. I had milk and a couple of apples for tea before returning to the hostel and bed. It was very quiet in the manager’s house.

Thursday 15 January — A cruise on the Wattle

Steam tug Wattle approaching the pier at Rye

My bed was available for another night so I bought it before wandering into the town, stopping for breakfast of tea, fruit salad and yoghurt in a convenient cafe. Then I caught the 1055 bus twenty minutes along the coast to Rye for my second encounter with the steam tug Wattle. During the school holidays, she sails regularly from Rye out to the South Channel light to see the small colony of fur seals which bask on the horizontal beams of the structure supporting the light. Fur seals are considerably larger than our grey seals but seem to have no problem lifting their bulk two or three feet from the sea to the beams. (There is a plan to remove the light to allow for widening of the channel, and who needs lights in these days of high-tech satellite navigation systems? The lamp itself may be renovated and preserved as a maritime icon.)

The deckie (Don) remembered me from my previous sail, despite my wearing a different tee shirt and I had pleasant chats with most of the crew during the 75 minute cruise. I was invited to stay on for the next cruise but declined, stupid as usual, and went for a wander up and down the front. (Why do they allow semi-permanent camping along the foreshore, most of the way from Sorrento to Dromore?) I dined on fish and chips washed down with a couple of beers before catching the bus about five back to Sorrento.

I found a decent tobacconist and had a couple of beers before wandering up the (wrong) hill to the heliport to photograph the departing ferry, then across to Ocean Beach (on the Bass Strait side of the peninsula) in hopes of a decent sunset but it was a disappointment so I went back to the hostel and bed.

Friday 16 January — Sorrento to Melbourne

I was up early and out for the 0825 bus to Frankston whence a train took me to Melbourne for 11 o’clock. Both hostels were full (something to do with a tennis match) so I booked into the BackPak Hotel for three nights in a six bedded room (which I later found out had less space per person than the larger dorms). Since my train ticket from Frankston was actually a day pass, I took the 16 tram down to St Kilda Beach, a trendy district, and wandered around a bit before returning to town by a different route on the 96 tram (which uses the old railway line).

Back at the hostel, it was time to wash some clothes so I bought a 2-wash packet of soap powder (the only size available) and threw the lot in. It didn’t seem to make much difference. Then out for dinner in a Vietnamese restaurant, satay beef with a side dish of Buddhist style steamed vegetables. I left the fried bean curd. For desert, fried banana and ice cream, the whole washed down with plenty of china tea from a thermos flask.

Saturday 17 January — Melbourne

The weather forecast was for a high of 40° Celsius so I decided to do nothing, so I pottered about for the morning, took a few photographs, sweated a lot, changed my last $200 travellers cheque (I think I’ve paced these just about right), a few beers in the Phoenix to the accompaniment of a pile driver putting in supports for a development above the railway yard, then took a short cruise up the Yarra (expensive at $10 for 30 minutes) on the steam launch Elizabeth Annie built in 1993 around a 1918 US Navy pinnace engine. The launch has a steel hull with huon pine above, lovely wood. I noticed the digital thermometer on top of the Nylex Building showing 41°.

In the early evening, I was in Hosie’s Tavern on Flinders Street when a cold front came along. For about five minutes, strong gusts disturbed the dust outside and it was noticeably cooler (probably about 30° when I came out to return to the hostel for hot chocolate and diary writing before bed.

Sunday 18 January — Puffing Billy

It was cooler in the morning, overcast, even offering a prospect of rain, though none had been forecast (and none happened). I made an early start for Spencer Street and just after eight, I caught the train to Belgrave, change at Ringwood, for the Puffing Billy Railway. The station facilities have been upgraded since my last visit (almost 10 years ago) and I don’t remember a black locomotive — I’ll have to check the old photos when I get back. [I only saw 7A (green) & 14A (orange) that time.] I took the first train (black locomotive No.12A) up to Lakeside and back down as far as Menzies Creek where I stopped for a look at the small museum wherein lurks the last Abt rack locomotive of the Mt. Lyell Mining and Railway Company, built in 1938 by the North British Locomotive Company, Glasgow.

The museum was worth an hour’s visit and I had time for a cup of tea before catching the next train (behind No.8A) down to Belgrave where I took more photographs and bought sundry souvenirs before catching the train back to town for half past four..

Since my ticket was valid all day, I took the next train heading north (to Epping) since I hadn’t been in that direction before, there was little of any interest to see, all pretty flat and boring, so I stayed on the train and was back at Spencer Street just after six.

Sizzling beef with a side dish of mixed vegetables for supper, a couple of beers, and back to bed.

Monday 19 January — Melbourne

Since my time in Australia was coming to an end and I was comfortably within budget, I decided to indulge myself with a brief spell of sybaritic living and moved to the Kingsgate Hotel. This has moved upmarket somewhat in the last ten years, no longer backpacker budget accommodation but a respectable mid-market hotel. I booked three nights room only at $60 each, dumped my bag and went off for another amble around the town.

For lunch, I tried an Italian cafe and had tea and a chicken and something (overgrown parsley) focaccia (Italian bread, I was not impressed, it smelt eggy and was greasy to the touch, I suspect it had been dressed with olive oil). In the map shop, I purchased the 1:25,000 map for the Angahook - Lorne Park (better late than never). There had been no response to my advert in the Age, and I forget what other trivia occurred.

Tuesday 20 January — A walk in the Parks

I started the day with a continental breakfast in the hotel, reasonable value at $4.50, then set off for an amble round by the Maritime Museum to find that the Polly Woodside tee shirts had materialised as promised when last I visited in December. So I bought one, before moving on to Albert Park where a pleasant walk around the lake was only mildly disturbed by the preparations for the Grand Prix next month. The Point Cafe by the lake was the site of my second try of a focaccia, toasted this time but not much better, and the prosciutto was stringy.

My walk continued through Fawkner Park then along Toorak Road before turning north through South Yarra (a lot of large old houses with high walls) to reach the Yarra at Hoddle Bridge (built 1938) which I photographed ten years ago but couldn’t remember the name. A cycle path along the river bank provided a pleasant stroll back to town where I bought another postpak box and spent the evening filling it.

Wednesday 21 January — Melbourne

The box weighed in at 3.58 kilograms, the last 8 grams costing an extra $3. Bad planning, but I don’t fancy carrying a set of scales around with me. I went into the YHA office and booked two nights in Sydney, I had to settle for the summer overflow at St Andrew’s College as the regular hostels were full. Lunch was a cheese and salad sandwich with tea in Swartz before I finally bought a new shirt to replace the one I bought in Gaspe in Canada (for $10) in 1989, which had to be discarded when the split up the back went full length. The new one cost $30, I hope it lasts three times as long. [Still in regular use in 2014.]

I went looking for a row of interesting old houses called Melbourne Terrace which I had photographed 10 years ago, and found it in Drummond Street, Carlton, just off Victoria Street but I did not take a photo this time as the trees had grown to obscure most of the houses.

Next, a visit to Rialto Towers, a new skyscraper with observation deck on top, affording good views over the city and for some distance around. Well worth $6. Then back to the hotel for a cup of tea (via the Kilkenny Inn) before going in search of the Redback Brewery on Flemmington Road where I sampled several of their brews, all lager style served in tall vases, some with lemon. Pleasant conversation with David and Corran before heading back to the hotel with a pause to watch possums in Flagstaff Gardens.

Thursday 22 January — Back to Sydney

Despite the airport bus leaving from the coach station in Spencer Street, just round the corner from the Kingsgate Hotel, I couldn’t quite get myself organised for the 0815 bus, and then nearly missed the 0845 but not quite. There was a brief stop at the Melbourne Transit Centre, a place of the existence of which I had previously been unaware, it was off to the airport, arriving about half past nine. I spent 15 minutes in the check-in queue, there appeared to be just the one queue for all QUANTAS flights, but still had time for tea and a sandwich before going through to the departure lounge.

Take-off was delayed for several minutes to allow another plane to land but we were pretty much on time an hour later at Sydney, with just tea and a muffin served. I had to wait about half an hour for the correct shuttle bus in the direction of the hostel, though that was easier than taking a bus into the centre then out again to Camperdown. St Andrew’s College is part of the University of Sydney and the hostel operates in the student accommodation during the summer holidays. There were no problems with my reservation and I had a chat with Sheena from East Kilbride, who had just cycled the Great Ocean Road from Adelaide to Melbourne and was now considering Sydney to Brisbane, before setting off into town.

I called at the Central YH to book for my last weekend in Sydney but they could only offer me the Sunday and Monday nights, which I accepted. I’ll worry about Sunday morning when it comes. Down at Circular Quay, I ordered a donner kebab from a fast food stall. I’m sure the guy took the same package out of the grill that he put in but it was chicken when I ate it.

Friday 23 January — Sydney

I extended my booking at St Andrew’s for another night (Saturday) before heading back into town, buying expensive tobacco and cheap matches on the way. Breakfast was tea, fruit salad and ice cream, then I went into the YHA office in Kent Street and arranged four nights at Christchurch Central hostel for my arrival in New Zealand. Down at Darling Harbour, I dined on an expensive tea and salad aboard the South Steyne, ex-harbour ferry built by Henry Robb of Leith with engines by Harland & Wolff of Belfast.

There were a number of tall ships in the harbour, I forget why they were there, but I had a wander around admiring them before heading off to admire the new Glebe Island bridge which has a footpath one side allowing views of the old swing bridge which it replaces. Then it was back towards the hostel stopping at a couple of pubs en route.

Saturday 24 January — Sydney

It being a fine morning, I walked out Glebe Point Road (past the Glebe Hostel) to the Bicentennial Park, round the top of Rozelle Bay and past the Maritime Museum Restoration Wharf. The street is called James Craig Road but if the James Craig is there, she is well hidden. I continued over the Glebe Island Bridge and through Darling Harbour into town where I went into the Agfa shop to put in three films for processing. I was on my way to the Botanic Gardens when it came on to rain so I had to dive into a pub for shelter. Then it was back to collect the slides and buy a couple more films which I didn’t really need at that time but it made for a reasonable credit card transaction.

Next stop Circular Quay where I bought a day rover ticket for Monday, it being Australia Day the ticket was on special offer at $10. The sky still looked threatening so I headed back towards the hostel but the rain started again as I was crossing Pyrmont Bridge so I ducked under the bridge before it got too bad. A Indonesian band (off a tall ship) came past getting soaked philosophically. I moved into the Harbourside complex and decided to eat American Style Ribs while watching the rain fall, the buildings on the other side of the harbour were barely visible.

When the rain slackened, I set off, dodging from cover to cover whenever it wasn’t too heavy, waiting awhile in a pub and finally got back to the hostel merely damp.

Sunday 25 January — Sydney Tram Museum

And now for the problem. I had to be up and out early to get to Central Station, drop my pack in the left luggage and then catch a train to Loftus for the Sydney Tram Museum. I managed to just miss a Waterfall train so I took a Cronulla train to Sutherland, the stop before the lines diverge and only one stop before Loftus, and walked 15 minutes to be in Loftus about half past nine, five minutes before the next train arrived. The museum didn’t open ’til ten so I had time for some intensive window shopping round the three shops in town.

The $10 admission fee included one “long” ride and unlimited “short” rides so I started with Sydney “toast-rack” 1111 (officially an O class bogie combination cross bench built about 1911) on the short track back towards Sutherland, then Brisbane 548 (bogie saloon built in 1963) on the former railway line which served a one-time army camp in what is now part of a National Park. I interrupted my inspection of the museum exhibits to ride Brisbane 295 (bogie drop centre saloon built in 1935) and got soaked getting off, but soon dried out. After a cup of tea, pie and some souvenir purchases, I hung around for half an hour to ride Sydney 1979 (R1 class bogie saloon built in the 1940s) which had been brought out to replace 1111 in view of the weather.

Vessels at the Maritime Museum Restoration Wharf on Rozelle Bay

Back in Sydney, I picked up my pack from the left luggage and booked into the Central YH. The weather was much improved by now so I went out for a walk out Glebe Point Road (again? some mistake surely!) and had three beers and some beer nuts for supper.

Monday 26 January — Australia Day

Phoned home, all well. The beauty of staying in Central YH is that it’s easier to catch early trains so I was on the 0748 from Central Station, even if it was just the five minute ride down to Circular Quay to catch the first ferry (0830) to Parramatta. It was a pleasant cruise up the river on the catamaran “Betty Cuthbert”, the boat was not too full but when we reached our destination at twenty past nine, there was a large crowd on Parramatta Pier with marshals keeping the queue in order and already issuing boarding cards for the next-but-two boat back to Sydney so I decided not to wait.

After a quick wander through Parramatta Park and town, I caught a train back through Sydney and over the Harbour Bridge to Milson’s Point to join the large crowd watching the tail end of the tall ships’ departure. Then I joined the large queue waiting for a ferry, no boarding cards here so I managed to get aboard the first boat that turned up, the “Charlotte”, and crossed the harbour to Darling Harbour. I resisted the lure of free entry to the Maritime Museum and walked across to Wynyard Station for a train across the Harbour Bridge again, this time to Hornsby where I crossed the platform and took the next train back by a different route to Central Station.

Tea and a sandwich in the station buffet counted as lunch, despite it being three o’clock. A final short trip took me back to Circular Quay where I photographed some ferries before a farewell stroll back up through the town, fuelled with the odd beer. I dined on beef with lemon grass and chilli with a side dish of mixed vegetables in a Vietnamese restaurant and returned to the hostel and an early bed.

Tuesday 27 January — Goodbye

Another good thing about the Central YH is the convenience of catching the airport bus across the road, even at half past five in the morning. At that hour, traffic was light and the airport was not busy. I was able to get rid of my pack straight away and was allocated my first window seat since leaving Glasgow. I whiled away a couple of hours watching the comings and goings before buying some duty free tobacco, boarding the plane and, just before eight o’clock, it was up, up and away to the Land of the Long White Cloud.