March 7
Adelaide
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Very cloudy this morning. I cooked a leisurely breakfast, organised my belongings and finally left the hotel at about 09.00.Outside, the atmosphere was heavy and there was an occasional spot of moisture in the air. Not deterred, I followed my usual walk up King William Street as far as the Metro Office. Much to my amazement, there was no queue, so I bought an all day ticket and picked up a bus timetable.Left: Cloudy and dull to start the day |
I went to the Tourist Office to thank them for organising yesterday's coach trip, to pick up a map and to ask about the buildings labelled "Polites". These are in all parts of the city and are part of the property empire built up by a Greek immigrant, now dead, who had his name put on all of his buildings.
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I reached the station a few minutes later, passing the newish Jamie Oliver restaurant en route. This had a disastrous launch when it was pointed out that there was no South Australian wine on the menu. Given that they think their wine is the best in Australia (or the world) this was asking for trouble. It is a miracle that the place is still trading and probably shows the dangers of a chef over-reaching himself.
At the station I found that the train I wanted was departing in four minutes. I rushed aboard, faced the usual problem of having to put my ticket into the platform barrier and then into the machine on the train, and rode through a mix of residential and industrial suburbs for about 20 minutes before arriving at Brighton. We came here on the coach yesterday and it looked like a nice place for a walk.
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A smart street, full of amazing plants, led to the beach. I walked along the promenade, as far as the pier, with its magnificent gate of remembrance, and row of cafes, where I stopped for an iced coffee.
Right: Lots of beautiful flowers |
Once I had abandoned the café, I walked and walked. Firstly along the Esplanade, with its fancy water fountains and its nicely designed steps. When I reached the Minda Dunes, I hit the beach and walked along it. It was calm, flat and, by local standards, cool. Mid 20s I should think.
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After about an hour, Glenelg hove into view. I continued past the pier and the proper beach volley ball courts until I reached the end of the road at the Marina.I retraced my steps, past the wheel and into Mosely Square. I took a few photos, wandered up and down looking at cafes and had a beer in the pub to rehydrate.Right: Minda Dunes |
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Lunch was at a street side café along the side of Mosely Square, seafood pizza and salad. Lots of seafood but a bigger pizza than I really needed.
In an attempt to walk off a little of the excess food, I walked along Jetty Street until it came to an end and the tram headed off on its own. I waited a few minutes and a tram arrived to carry me safely to the stop almost outside my hotel. With the tram windows treated as advertising hoardings, photography wasn't possible. I did see one of the buildings in the Polites empire, about which I learned yesterday.
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Feeling really tired, I rested for a couple of hours and then emerged into the afternoon heat. The temperature had risen considerably since the morning - the thermometer showed 33 - and there was no real sign of rain.
I walked along Sturt Street, which runs perpendicular to King William Street. There were two things to note:
When the burghers of Adelaide sought permission from William IV to name the main street after him, it was granted on condition that it wasn't crossed by any commoners - ie any street intersecting King William Street had to have change of name on the other side. Sturt Street, for instance, becomes Halifax Street.
The wide streets crossing the city permit the wind to flow across the city, thus cooling it down. The large green squares, such as Whitmore Square, help with this task.
Right: Whitmore Square - the city's ventilation system |
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I followed a few side streets and ended up on Gouger Street, where I walked as far as Chinatown. With there only being 3 weeks before I reach Singapore and Hong Kong, there seemed little reason to play either shopping or eating. The other side of Chinatown emerges into Grote Street, home to the Majestic Theatre and the Metropolitan Hotel. I entered the latter for another beer.
Ordering beer here is complicated. A schooner is much smaller than elsewhere, half a pint as opposed to three quarters in the other states. A pint is three quarters here and not a real pint. The good news was that I had been drinking less than I thought.
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Pauls, on Gouger Street, is a fish restaurant that I have visited several times before. Basically, it serves lots of sorts of fish and seafood, battered, crumbed or grilled, accompanied by roast potatoes and salad. All simple but all good. I ate well.
I zig zagged back to the hotel, spotting some of the old buildings on the side streets as I went. The city has many of them. Once back in my room, I started packing.