30 Jan: Rail Trail Rambles #2

When grey nomads pack up early and leave in the dark, some of them running late for a boat that won't wait, they leave behind a remarkable haul of leftovers. This morning's haul included a full size broom, several orange wedges for leveling caravans, a shirt or two, and a gold necklace; not to mention the tomatoes and carrots pressed upon us yesterday courtesy of Tasmania's quarantine rules.

We used the broom and then left it all (apart from the veges, which provided us with lunch for a day or two) in an obvious spot in case anyone came back for it when they returned to the mainland. Then we drove the whopping 20ish km to Drysdale to finish off the Bellarine Rail Trail, starting where we left off last time.

 

Right, let's go.

 

The trail was gravel all the way, and started off by meandering beside the railway line in remnant bush land surrounded by sheep paddocks.

 

Look closely.  The paddock is covered with yellow flowers.

See? There really were sheep!

 

 

The line from Drysdale to Queenscliff is still technically active,  supporting as it does the Bellarine Railway.  The railway is considered to be the oldest Victorian branch line still operating and does so using a narrow gauge, the broad gauge being replaced by the Geelong Steam Preservation Society in the mid '70s as their rolling stock (I presume bought cheaply at clearing sales by Queensland Rail was (and still is) narrow gauge.

 

They're still working on the line.  Looks like hard work, too.

 

Bike posing.

The Geelong Steam Preservation Society keeps the Bellarine Railway remarkably busy, running novelties like the Q Train restaurant ride, the 'real' Thomas (presumably hiding in a shed as we went past) and sundry other recreational and tourist rides. All this running trains up and down meant that the rail trail tootled along beside the line rather than on it, and therefore lost a lot of the benefit of railway gradients. Fortunately the terrain was flat(ish) anyway, and the wind was generally cooperative.

We stopped at Suma Park, the turnaround point for the Q train from Queenscliff.  Being the only spot where the Q train users could take a break to stretch their legs in between their indulgent 6 courses of elegant food and wine, Suma Park was very well presented and had pretty gardens.

Not the Q train look.

Bicycle dreams of going fast.

 

Cabbage White butterflies fluttered in their hundreds throughout the bushland as we cycled.  They were very difficult to photograph but at Suma Park they gathered in droves on a lavender bush, so I present you the Cabbage White, common decoration where ever butterfly food is to be found.

It was all downhill into Queenscliff from Suma Park, passing Lakers Siding where the Geelong Steam Preservation Society had some big sheds to store their rolling stock, and had so much rolling stock that it was stored on the lines outside the sheds as well.

X3, English Electric, built in 1950.  I think.

Along the way we passed a free range chicken farm, where the chooks were guarded by a very laid-back guardian dog.  He stirred himself briefly to utter a few warning woofs when I approached the fence to take photos, but wasn't sufficiently disturbed to leave his patch of shade.  I didn't test him though.

Woof?

Shade good.  Chooks happy.  No need to stress.

Once on the isthmus to Queenscliff the railway continued beside the sea with stunning views out over Swan Bay, and the bicycle path plugged up over the hills beside the road, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing given that the hills were small and the views still stunning. 

Bye bye railway.  See you on the other side.

A place to stop and think awhile.

We entered Queenscliff past the railway station, where the Q train was parked waiting to replenish the pantry and set out on another fancy-pants railway dining experience.

Man dreams of dinner on train.

Queenscliff proved an unexpected feast of beautiful old buildings:

culminating in our discovery of the Queenscliff Fort, a grand and imposing structure built in 1860 as an open battery and upgraded to a fort in the late 1870s and '80s.  It became part of an extensive series of forts built to protect Port Phillip heads, becoming by 1891 one of the most heavily defended harbours in the British Empire.  Which probably speaks more to the paranoia of the British Empire than the real and present threat of invasion (by Russia, no less) from the Southern Ocean via Bass Strait.

Yellow signs all around the fort strictly instruct that there is to be no shooting, either inside or outside the fort.  We complied.

The fort had an illustrious career without a single shot being fired, was briefly a training centre, and now flourishes as a museum which unfortunately we didn't have time to visit, merely adding it to our ever-lengthening list of Reasons To Come Back To The Bellarine Peninsula.

We had to go all around the fort to look at the light houses.  There was a black light house and a white light house.

From Queenscliff we looked out toward Sorrento, across the mouth of Port Phillip Bay.

 

A ferry was just leaving on its way to Sorrento.

Having completed the Rail Trail we celebrated with the usual photo shoot.

 

Whoopee, all done.

 

Then, with work hovering on the horizon, we checked into a cabin in the Barwon River Holiday Park, having moved a total of 3km from the Geelong Showgrounds and traded the mosquitoes and corellas for finicky public washing machines and a polite tussle over who got to work in the broom cupboard (AKA second bedroom) vs the main living area. I got the broom cupboard because it had a door and Roger, wage slave that he is, only had a couple of hours to do and could be otherwise gainfully employed in the kitchen by making me cups of tea.

I'll see you all on the other side of my stint in the broom cupboard.