Sandringham – July 13th, 2008

The last time we tried to go to Sandringham, we never made it because the train took us to Springvale instead. Yesterday, we were paying particular attention to where the train took us – to make sure that it didn’t happen again! As planned, the train diverted after it left South Yarra station, down the path less travelled for me, as I’ve never really had call to go that way along the coast before. The only time I’ve ever really headed in that direction was to go to Brighton Beach, in summer time when we were looking for somewhere to swim and that anywhere with Beach’ in the name sounded promising.

We were Douglas once again, having spent the day before in his company, and already full to the brim of pun juice (we went to look at a 26-bedroom mansion called ‘Cumnock’, that we have grand plans of turning into a backpackers’ hostel called ‘Cumnock-ing’). We didn’t leave Melbourne Central until after 2pm because we were hesitant to venture out into the cold. By the time we got to Sandringham though, the sun was out and it had warmed up considerably.

To make the most of the sun, we headed straight down to the beach. We stopped briefly to take in the view from the rotunda, but almost blew away! As I wandered down to the water’s edge, I realised that I had made a poor choice of shoes for this particular adventure. The sand was getting in at the sides, and I was wearing tights so I couldn’t really go paddling in the water. I walked along the high tide line for a while, sinking in the sand and collecting frosted glass.

After we had walked along the main part of the beach in Sandringham, we decided to explore some of the local shops. Unfortunately, most of them were closed (that’s the problem with Sunday adventures), but we did find the one thing that we couldn’t go without on a visit to the beach: fish and chips.

Sandy Fish ‘n’ Chips shop seemed like appropriate place to sample local food, and we shared a lunch pack along with an extra piece of flake. They even threw in an extra potato cake – that’s the sign of a proper fish ‘n’ chip shop. We had an audience of seagulls throughout the meal, keenly watching in case there were any spare chips. We obeyed the signs though, and didn’t give any food to the birds – they definitely don’t need any more encouragement. We have now sworn of fried foods for a month, there are only so many times you can eat a meal that’s entirely golden brown without regretting it later . . .

After lunch (well, late lunch, it was getting close to 4pm) we decided to walk off some of the deep-fried goodness. We headed south, along the coast, down towards Black Rock. Along the way, I collected more frosted glass (I have a whole bagful now), and we saw some amazing jellyfish washed up on the beach – huge ones with all of the innards showing through the bulbous outer layer. I did some beach-combing too, finding the top of a watering can, a comb, and an unpeeled (still good!) mandarin.

Further towards Black Rock, the cliffs are unstable, so it’s hard to cut around on the coastline. There is a good walking path up on the hill though, and a bike path that runs along the road. Some of the rocks looked like they came straight out of the desert: orange crags that contrasted well with the blue sky above.

By the time we got to Black Rock, the sun was about to set. There were quite a few people fishing from the pier, and the seagulls were perched out on the shipwreck. We decided to head back to the station before the sun got so low we couldn’t find our way back.

We ran to catch the train that was waiting at the platform and made it to Prahran by two minutes past six where we went to Arteveneta to have freshly made flat bread and fine Spanish jamon with Joe and Nina. Then we caught the bus and the tram home – the public transport trifecta! I can’t think of a better way to end a Sunday adventure.