Sydney Day 7

Friday after the usual routine, I headed down the hill to Central Station to meet Victor. I walked a slightly different way, which meant a small hill to ascend, and once inside because I used a different entrance, I was a bit confused. I called Victor and he was soon with me. 

We headed to a platform to catch a train south toward Wollongong but our destination was before then, the town of Thirroul, a small seaside town. It was a very comfortable journey, but not very fast as there were many many curves in the hilly terrain, limiting our speed. That's all the better for looking out the train window at the variety of scenery, through a national park and a few smalls towns. As we closed in on our destination the sea became visible, far down below us in the train. The train descended to a large flat plain on the sea's edge, and there we were, at Thirroul. 

One of us should have looked up directions first, and not waited until we couldn't find the club, our destination for lunch. We depended on the kindness of strangers to find our way. We had been confused as the electric map was sending us back to the station. It was correct, because we needed to use the footbridge over the railway line. We found the club and it was very pleasant and we had a nice lunch. Train intervals are limited as it is not a suburban service, so we kept any eye train times and were at the station in good time. Unfortunately rather than being a long train like the one we travelled on earlier, it was half the size, and the only seats were aisle seats. A few left the carriage at a station and Victor assertively snapped up better seats for our comfort and window views for me. 

It was just such a nice day trip through interesting countryside, with nice views, and in comfort. 

I bought a pizza for dinner, which was nice, but I could only eat half the pizza. 

It was hard to take decent photos from the train and the experience was my focus, rather than photos. 

We has arrived.

We walked through this small and pleasant park.

We found our lunch venue.

Meanwhile back at my digs, the Burdekin rooftop was deserted as the weather was not good.

No one likes bad wind. 

As I went to collect my pizza, this cafe that has been here for yonks has permanently closed, and many times Ray and myself sat out the outdoors tables watching the Oxford Street walkers pass by. I may have even had coffee with Marcellous, but more about him in the next post. The Asian woman who used to run the cafe, on her own as I remember, was of a decent age and perhaps retired. 

Oxford Street used to be called the Gay Mile. It is still quite gay, but not like it was in its heyday in the 1990s. 

This evening art class has been running for years too. It is always interesting to look in the window to see what art is being produced on the easels.