Riding the old bus

Over Grand Prix weekend, Newport Railway Workshops held its annual open day, and it was grand event with thousands attending over three days. 

I had warned my tram and train fan friend visiting from Queensland that my stamina was limited, and he confessed his was too. We met up at Flinders Street Station to travel to Newport Station, where we could catch a shuttle bus running for the event. The service was frequent and the first bus that arrived, while dated, was not to our taste. We wanted an older bus. 

Helpful volunteers advised us that it would be the next bus to arrive, and it was, and we clambered aboard. The bus is what is known as a Leyland Tiger, built in England between the end of WWII and 1968. Australia imported the engine, drive train and chassis, then the body, seats and accessories were added here. 

Amazingly, the ride seemed smoother and nothing rattled, unlike what happens with our modern city buses. Obviously it was very well maintained. One of the guides suggested a donation to the driver who volunteered his and his bus's time and effort for the three days. I wanted to, but I no longer carry cash.

There were food vans and it was all so well organised. While we didn't aim to see anything in particular, we enjoyed what we saw, even though aside from a couple of steam trains running in unison, we missed everything else that moved, actually moving. 

Note how hard the driver is working the almost horizontal steering wheel to turn corners.

This video shows a steam powered tractor of some kind, idling away. I don't know its purpose. Later I saw a video of it slowly moving about the yards. 

Travelling on the Tiger.

What a handsome beast. However, I recall being stuck behind one as it climbed the Punt Road hill, very slowly, and belching huge amounts of black diesel smoke. The engine next to the driver must have kept them very warm on hot summer days. Ray had a very masculine female friend called Bluey, who drove these buses, and another wide hipped friend Marj, who was a conductor on these buses. The bus aisle was wide enough to cater for her hips. Back in those days, there was almost no fare evasion on public transport.

  

Its bum is bit ho hum. 

The workshops clock tower. 

When I say this doesn't look so old, it probably is. They could still be in use for moving train carriages around in yards.

Another Tiger.

I think this is a rail car, maybe called a Walker Rail Motor. It is a small two carriage train used on very quiet train routes. The seats were super comfortable. Why have we gone backwards with train seat comfort?

This is the business that makes it go, a diesel motor.

Oddly it has what appears to be very similar to a standard tram power controller handle. 

I think the L plate on this train stands for 'lectric, an engine using power from overhead wires that pulled the Gippsland to Melbourne train which I so often travelled on. While I know the reasons why the line was de-electrified in the 80s, I think, it was a terrible mistake.

Melbourne's standard suburban electric trains, know as Taits, or more commonly, red rattlers.

The lighting made it difficult to photograph this old steam train. 

The train sheds were rather fancy.

While some of the rail yards are used for historical purposes, Newport Workshops is also a very large train storage and maintenance facility.

A visit to northside

Melbourne is divided by the river Yarra. People who live on the north side of the river, the hipster types, the young artistic types, and the left of politics comfortable middle class despise the wealthier south siders of the Yarra, with their fascination of property values, labelled clothing and the latest trends. God forbid, there are a lot of voters for our conservative party led by Peter Dultrump.

I ventured northside yesterday by the 11 West Preston tram and returned home by a 207 bus and then a tram. The Saturday bus service is not very frequent and gosh was the bus loaded. There is a green right turn arrow from Russell Street into Lonsdale Street but it wasn't working and it took four sets of the lights to turn right. Absolutely disgusting treatment to bus travellers. The bus should alert the traffic lights of its presence. 

Phyliss and Kosov had their friend Sarah visit today. They cooked up a meal and ate in the afternoon and then went out together. 

I was thinking of having a takeaway pizza tonight as part of my balanced diet but Phyllis told me I will have one of my meals on wheels, quiche with roast potatoes and vegetables. Then Phyliss said he was going out. What about my dinner you promised to serve? Phyllis relayed instructions to Kosov as to how to heat my meal and present it a nice manner. It was good. Kosov is mentally exhausted. His social interaction battery is much smaller than Phyllis', and as I write, he is working on project for his food safety studies. 

Oh yes, today I went out wearing a clean shirt. I was in a cramped space to eat before an outside table became available. Egg yolk dripped from my burger onto my shirt, and then fat. To top it off, coffee spilt from my cup onto my shirt. Somehow even my phone screen was splattered with something. I am becoming an old man with dribbles down his shirt. At least at this point in my life, I knew my shirt was dirty and changed once I was home.