Folks, I chickened out of the bus trip to Caroline Springs. I looked at the map, the timetable and what I had to do and it became just too hard.
But I did the Williamstown train trip. En route I learned that it is like the Alamein line, a shuttle train, change at Newport.
Williamstown is very close as the crow flies, but it is a bit of a circle to go there by train, literally, as the train semi circles the city. The Westgate Bridge was nearly always in view.
While sitting enjoying the scenery and looking for camera opportunities, why did that person, no sex as I did not look until I was getting off, have to sit next to me. I thought she/he had a shopping jeep, but it turned out to be an oxygen bottle and every 20 seconds, there would be sharp phwhhhhhh as she received a blast from the bottle. I imagined her to be some old, badly dressed crone with a very wrinkled smokers face. But no, instead she was nicely dressed, made up, nice hair and quite Camberwell (middle class, bible belt suburb). Nothing of interest about any of the other passengers. I travelled on a renovated Comeng train and transferred to a renovated Comeng train. Nice and cool.
I changed at Newport. There seemed to be a very nice village there and if it is cheap real estate and you have some investment money, I suggest buying there. Must be the next Yarraville.
I walked in a very undirect line from the station towards the tourist part of Willie and kept a careful lookout for Mrs Kirner in a a polka dot dress (did you know she had never owned nor wore one). There are some truly beautiful houses there and I took plenty of pics and was advised by local person on crutches as to where I should walk to find more.
Much to my annoyance, I forgot that I was in a semi rural town and that you need to to say hello to people when you walk past them in a quiet street. Sorry to that lady and the man a bit later who said hello and I ignored them until it was too late. I was mentally unprepared.
I ended up in the main shopping street, which I had driven down in the past, but I had never noticed the side streets also full of shops. There seemed to be so many mothers with a pusher, a walking child and a dog on a leash. The housing commission flats loomed above me, and their occupants loomed in front of me.
I walked along the seafront and tried to get a glimpse of our apartment block, but the view was obscured by the many yacht masts. The pier was not busy like it is on weekends, just a couple of unsuccessful fishers at the end. While I had seen it before, there is an amazing drinking fountain in the park. I will post a pic later.
My caffeine nerve receptors were calling for some nourishment, so I went to a nondescript cafe where my fellow diners were three uniformed cops. I could not hear exactly what it was, but their two way radio summoned them to an emergency and they took off, leaving their half eaten meals behind.
I had plenty to do in the afternoon and I check of the time said it was 11.45, and there was a train at 12.02. I wasn't sure if I would make it but I did easily. While waiting on the platform, I noticed the complete silence of the type you never find in the city.
Back to the shuttle train, change at Newport into what was now a fairly crowded train. Three rough looking boys were drinking 'soft drink' from a large bottle and were very jovial. They started singing 'Tainted Love' and seemed to know all the words. How old is that number? I was surprised. But not as surprised as when they started singing 'Keep your sunnyside up'. I soon realised it was a football team song and they sang a few others too.
A young girl was begging in the train and my newly adopted anti beggar expression must have worked. Actually, she only targeted other young girls, successfully I might add.
Gee, a lot of people smoke in the Western Subs. I really has become a bit of a class divide. And there was not an Age reader to be seen. Sadly, the Herald Sun was their preferred reading.
As the train left Newport, I saw a burnt out Comeng train carriage and then what I thought initially, old Harris train sets. The ones full of asbestos that I thought were all pushed into the Clayton tip and buried. These ones were grey and shabby, then I noticed, hang on, there are airconditioning units on their roofs. They must be undelivered brand new trains. What a waste.
I have noticed it before, but there is a station, maybe the next along from North Melbourne, that consists of a long platform with a bus shelter and the usual communication systems. Back in the city by 12.30. A nice outing.