Wednesday, 30 September 2009
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Maps of Adventure:
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Hitting the wall indeed! It's easy to be overambitious on a project such as this. Looking at a map and thinking "we can cover this area easily" is easy. Doing it - not necessarily so. Distances can be enormous, the weather can be unpredictable, and the effects of fatigue, heat and thirst can cause havoc. So it was in this case. We had plenty of drinks, the weather was good, but the blue zone distance (getting to the starting point) was relatively huge. We ended up covering eleven and a half kilometres, so nobody can say that we didn't try. However, it took so long to get to the starting point, that it took away distance that we could have given to the red zone (exploratory area). We planned on covering the triangle formed by the beach, South Road and New Street, but ended up just going up and down the numerous paths between Beach Road and the beach. As a consequence, we have decided that in the future, for any adventures west of Hampton Street we will drive to the area so that we can devote more time and energy to actually exploring (the red zone).
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On this occasion, Ekaterina (who is now a statuesque sixteen year-old) didn't participate due to work, social or shopping commitments. It was the school holidays, after all. Maybe next time.
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After trudging up Bluff Road, Ludstone Street and Holyrood Street, we came to the famous New Street (railway) Gates. We will speak more about these gates in our next adventure, but we will mention that, much to our surprise, a Connex employee still does occupy that little shed. He is, obviously, not there to open the gates, but to make sure that pedestrians cross safely. Isn't that sweet?
After trudging up Bluff Road, Ludstone Street and Holyrood Street, we came to the famous New Street (railway) Gates. We will speak more about these gates in our next adventure, but we will mention that, much to our surprise, a Connex employee still does occupy that little shed. He is, obviously, not there to open the gates, but to make sure that pedestrians cross safely. Isn't that sweet?
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From there, we walked 200 metres along the beach to a point where I thought I had picked up an unusual stone 37 years before. I was eight or nine years old at the time and had gone for a walk along the beach by myself (from home). Those were the days... Anyway, I was convinced that the stone contained fossils of some kind and the conical shapes with segmented diagonals seem to vindicate this position. See what you think:
From there, we walked 200 metres along the beach to a point where I thought I had picked up an unusual stone 37 years before. I was eight or nine years old at the time and had gone for a walk along the beach by myself (from home). Those were the days... Anyway, I was convinced that the stone contained fossils of some kind and the conical shapes with segmented diagonals seem to vindicate this position. See what you think:
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While I was taking these shots, Anastasia and Alexandra were taking a well-earned break:
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They didn't go in too deep, as they "believed" that a large dark shape in the water was, in fact, a sea monster. It's actually a crescent-shaped rock formation and can be seen in satellite photos at Google Maps.
Near where South Road finishes at Beach Road there is a modern pavilion with toilet and shower facilities (on the beach side). It is in an exact line with where the long-gone Brighton Beach Baths jutted out into the sea. Many a good time was had here by the local kids over the years. All the local schools sent their children here to do their Herald Swimming Certificate (as well as numerous others) for which one had to swim 25 metres (or yards?) in whatever fashion one chose; anything but sinking and drowning. My favourite memories of the Baths were landing like a stone in the water after jumping off the high dive, and trying to break my back whilst attempting a reverse pike (with two and a half twist) dive off the springboard.
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After this, we headed southeast along the beach wall. This wall was built during The Depression in the thirties by sustenance workers in the belief that Beach Road was in danger from erosion. The bluestone blocks were taken from demolished wings of the Old Melbourne Gaol. It was traditional that when a prisoner was executed, his or her initials were carved into a bluestone block that was part of the wall of the building. Given that some of these blocks were used in the construction of the sea wall, it is possible to find several of these blocks if one looks carefully. More about this here.
After this, we headed southeast along the beach wall. This wall was built during The Depression in the thirties by sustenance workers in the belief that Beach Road was in danger from erosion. The bluestone blocks were taken from demolished wings of the Old Melbourne Gaol. It was traditional that when a prisoner was executed, his or her initials were carved into a bluestone block that was part of the wall of the building. Given that some of these blocks were used in the construction of the sea wall, it is possible to find several of these blocks if one looks carefully. More about this here.
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Another attempt at fortifying the beach involved dumping huge amounts of bluestone (basalt) rocks along the length of the road, from the road down to the beach. This ended up having the opposite effect and, for many years, Hampton had no beach until groynes were installed, the bluestone rocks were removed and sand was pumped in about fifteen years ago.
Another attempt at fortifying the beach involved dumping huge amounts of bluestone (basalt) rocks along the length of the road, from the road down to the beach. This ended up having the opposite effect and, for many years, Hampton had no beach until groynes were installed, the bluestone rocks were removed and sand was pumped in about fifteen years ago.
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One of my memories of the bluestone rocks (from the road to the water - not the cemented wall) are as follows: back in about 1971 or 1972, my sister's then-boyfriend, one Garry Vincent, arrived at our place looking "as pale as a ghost" and demanding a glass of brandy or vodka or something to "settle his nerves". Garry had been driving southeast along Beach Road when the car in front of his suddenly veered to its right, drove across the northbound lanes of traffic and down the bluestone embankment, where it came to a violent stop. It was supposed that the driver had suffered a heart attack, and had died either from the heart attack or as a result of the collision. After Garry had finished his drink, we all piled into someone's car and drove to the scene. The car was being winched up by a tow truck and we could see broken shards of the front windscreen sitting in blood along the dashboard. The person or his body had already been removed. R.I.P.
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After getting back up to South Road along the walking path, Alexandra declared that she'd had enough and would not be continuing any further. I explained that this was fine, but that we were at the opposite end of Hampton to our house and we were without a car. The promise of an ice-cream seemed to lift her spirits and we came back down the bike path towards the New Street Gates, to our (new) official finish.
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At the South Road end of our home straight, we found the entrance to a tunnel under Beach Road/The Esplanade that once contained a tramline between a long-gone pier and the Brighton Beach Railway Station.
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There is also a plaque near the tunnel:
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The problem is that this entrance and the plaque lie on the bike path. The path, at this point, is in a very steep dip, so that cyclists coming from either direction try to maximize their speed on the downhill to make the uphill as easy as possible. Pedestrians will stop and loiter to admire the tunnel and plaque at precisely the point of maximum velocity for cyclists, creating all kinds of mayhem. This happened to us several months later while we were cycling in that area.
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After getting to our finish point, we crossed Beach Road and began the long way home. We got to Picasso's pizza restaurant in Hampton Street just before five o'clock and found ourselves hanging around outside waiting for them to open at five so that we could get our ice-creams.
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Halfway up Ludstone Street, at the milk bar, we again stopped for some icy-poles and drinks. Then it was a kilometre or two home for some well-earned rest.
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Ciao!
Papugai
