Princes Bridge

It was a day of violence in the Melbourne suburbs with three people shot dead in two separate and not (it appears) related incidents. One incident occurred in my neck of the woods not far from Altona, whilst the other occurred in the lively Restaurant precinct of Lygon Street, Carlton (an inner northern suburb of Melbourne). Both areas were extensively locked down by Police, as they, understandably, conducted their investigations into these murders. Generally, Melbourne is a safe place - though not without its modest share of murders, GBH, drunks, break and enters, car stealing, larceny, arson and drugs. I can attest to the violence having being threatened on more than one occasion with robbery as I have walked home from the local railway station, once the escalation was painful! Fortunately nothing too serious, though a knife in your side can leave an 'impression'. Today, I found myself in the City following an appointment I could not wriggle out from. I loathe travelling home in the peak hour madness, (I did so for well over 20 years and that was more than enough), reinforced this day by a number of traffic disruptions, cancelled trains, sardine packed buses and a sense of seething foreboding due to the street violence. So, I decided to stay put until later in the evening, grab a Pub meal (a nice Scotch Fillet steak with a glass of Bourbon went down very well thank you very much) and just stroll about as unobtrusive as possible, letting the moment dictate my steps.

Melbourne (as much as I prefer the cathedrals of eucalypts or the wash of tide on a beach) does have its photogenic spots, especially in the false glitter of its busy CBD. One of my favourite icons of Melbourne is Princes Bridge. I have been visiting this Bridge and its surrounds since I first rode my bike into the City (on a dare from my best mate at the time), well over 40 years ago. As I recall, we both did so at night (it was a Saturday), with no lights on our bikes (it was the days before helmets, handbrakes and 21 gears). I was scared witless (though dared not show it least my mate think I was chicken) by the traffic and then gloomy aspects of the Bridge (beneath the arches on the riverbank then was a rather seedy, spooky place). I do readily remember the hiding I copped from the Old Man when I came home near 1:00 am the next morning. Both my parents were beside themselves with worry, in retrospect quite understandably. I was grounded for 6 months! This now 122 year old Bridge is located in the heart of Melbourne crossing the Yarra River near a quadrille of icons (Flinders Street Railway Station, Young and Jackson's Hotel, Saint Paul's Anglican Cathedral and Federation Square) and it is one of the oldest river crossings in Australia. The bridge depicted in the photograph (taken from Birrarung Maar - a large public park that lips the northern bank of the Yarra River) is the third incarnation following the first bridge built in 1844. Prior to that, a rickety Punt operated under the stewardship of a series of dubious characters near the present day site. The first actual bridge was a ramshackle wooden construct, privately run as a toll bridge. This gave way in 1850 to a Government funded single span bridge made of sandstone that was toll free. At the time, this single span was the longest in the world, and remained so for the next 35 years. When the first stone bridge was built the Yarra River was much narrower and shallower than it is today. Following the gold rushes of the 1850s and 1860s, and the subsequent expansion of Melbourne as a City, the need for a wider and sturdier bridge was needed to cope with the increased traffic both on the existing bridge and plying the river itself. This led in 1886 to the substantial widening of the Yarra River (which also alleviated what was up until then regular flooding) and two years later the present day bridge was built with bluestone and iron. The bridge in effect has not changed since its construction. Today it caters for not only road traffic (two lanes either side) plus a dual tram tracks in the centre, but also carries large numbers of pedestrians and cyclists. The bridge was named after Edward, Prince of Wales (1841-1910) - later King Edward VII - oldest son of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert.

Dimensions/facts

Designer: John Grainger (1855-1917) who was the father of the noted Australian Composer, Percy Grainger (1882-1961).
Date opened: 4th October 1888 and has been in continuous use since.
Length: 120 metres/440 feet.
Width: 30 metres/99 feet.
Materials: Bluestone (quarried from nearby locations including Newport) and Cast Iron.
Arches: 3.
Coat of Arms displayed: Those of local Councils who contributed to the building cost.

Other features:
Elaborate balustrades at either end, cast iron lamps (electricity) added in 1920.
Listed on Victoria Heritage Register.
The bridge is packed with revellers on New Year's Eve (a terrific spot to see the fireworks) and is a focal point of ANZAC Day marchers and other commemorations and celebrations.
Some of the finest views of Melbourne itself, especially its Arts Precinct and Southbank. The MCG and most City Buildings can also be seen from the bridge

By the time 11:00 pm came around, even I thought I would have a quieter ride on the train home it being not too early for the young frippery-flit night club revellers to spill out onto the streets boozed up nor the sozzled pub drunks still staggering home and throwing up in the train. Happily, it was an uneventful trip and I was content enough reading an absorbing biography on John Milton (by Anna Beer), Bloomsbury Publishing 2008, 458 pp.

Page 365:

I who erewhile the happy garden sing,
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered paradise to all mankind,
By one man's firm obedience tried
Through all temptation, and the tempter foiled
In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed,
And Eden raised in the waster wilderness.

(opening lines of 'Paradise Regained')

I became so engrossed in the book that I missed the station I was to alight and before I realised I had missed my exit it was next to last stop from the line's terminus! Sheepishly, I had to sit around on a near deserted suburban train station (warily looking about for shady characters with knives seeking some up close and personal discourse) for near on another 30 minutes in order to catch another train back down the Line to where I should have got off!

ps

I have a 'suspicion' this photo will look better in the larger version?