On Taking The Train To Cronulla

Tuesday, I was on my own for the first time. I have purchased a 7 day Transit Pass that gives me unlimited access to every bus, train and ferry in the Sydney area. Some of the trains go to places that are as much as 80 miles distant, so its not quite like the subway in New York or Boston.

I studied the transit map and decided I wanted to go the end of the line. Not just any line. One that ended at the ocean. I wanted to see what a typical oceanside community would be like. My finger landed on Cronulla, about 30 miles southeast of the City.

I am getting to be an old hand at navigating Central Station. EVERYTHING that is train related goes to or through Central Station. In Boston, you have North Station and South Station. To get from one to the other requires several subway stops, an expensive cab ride or many busses. Here, the trains from north and south go right through the station, which uncomplicates things a great deal. Its similar to Grand Central in New York, but only about 1/10th the size.

The trains here are clean and quiet. Riding along reminded me of taking the train from London to Heathrow. The houses are neat, orderly and set very close together. Nothing is made of wood here. Everything is brick or masonry or concrete. All the roofs are tile. I suspect that A.) there are not a lot of trees in Australia and B.) the sun blasts anything so the exterior surfaces had better be durable.

I disembarked in Cromulla and started walking toward where the sea should be. Almost everything is condo towers, from 2 to 10 stories high. Most of the roads I was on were dead ends, but after about 15 minutes, I came to one that had ocean at the end of it and the distinctive aroma of salt water tickled my nostrils. The first picture in today's gallery was taken at the end of that street.

Cronulla is very much a retirement community. It's where Aussies come to soak up the sun and watch old Paul Hogan movies. There is a wonderful wide concrete walkway, called The Esplanade, all along the shore, with benches looking out to sea every so often. It reminded me a lot of Marginal Way in Ogunquit, Maine. Even the shore was rocky and craggy, just like Maine's is. And the benches have plaques affixed to them, in memory of a Cronullan now departed. Very nice and peaceful.

After about a mile, The Esplanade brings you to the large, wide beach at the edge of town. There are galleries filled with arts and crafts and plentiful seaside bistros for dining or quaffing a beer or two. On the beaches, school children assemble under the watchful eyes of life guards who double as day care mothers and keep the children active and entertained during the afternoon after school lets out. For many in Australia, life IS, indeed, a beach.

Cronulla was not quite the hip, happenin' place that Manly was. It is much more peaceful and serene, as befits its older population. Those of you who have ever been to the Gulf Coast of Florida from Indian Rocks Beach down to Venice and Naples will know immediately the look and feel of the place. The similarities are striking.

In late afternoon, I trundled homeward on the train, somewhat hot and foot sore. But a stop for some refreshing Aussie ale along the way help immeasurably!

For photos of today's journey, please follow this link: Cronulla



Cheers!