I have had some feed back from my mother regarding the history of the old Ballaarat railway line mentioned in my previous mail.
Traffic commenced on the rail link in September 1889. It continued to ferry passengers between Ballaarat and Buninyong until Nov 1930. It then remained in operation as a goods train hauling mainly farm produce, tanned hides, butter, beer and above all cauliflowers from the farms and factories of Buninyong back to Ballaarat for distribution and sale. It became known as, ``The Cauliflower Express´´. If a cauliflower weighed in at less than 20 pounds (9kg) it was considered undersized. It ceased operation forever in Feb 1947.
My mother tells me that a local farmer Jack Brusaski removed a lot of the old sleepers on his land as they harbored to many snakes. As a child, the remnants of the line always struck me as being so much older than that but there you go. Just a small update.
29.11.04
8.11.04
Click Your Heels Dorothy
Having spent much of my adult life in more tropical climes, coming to Germany is the first time in many years that I have enjoyed four seasons and had the opportunity to warm my soul with the vibrant cacophony of their hues. I am very much reminded of the paddocks that surrounded my childhood home in Mt. Helen just south of Ballaarat, which every Spring, became a sea of living colour from the daffodils, johnquills and bluebells that sprawled across the top of our property.
It was always a magical kind of place as the clumps of flowers often chose to hug the historic remains of the old Buningyong to Ballaarat railway line which was closed down in the early part of the 1900‘s. Those small sections still remaining, some how retained some lingering essence of the romance and adventure that surrounded that era of the steam locomotives. The skeletal remains of the track’s sleepers, still staked to the earth with rusting metal spikes, lay like broken bones almost turned dust amongst the verdent green of the Spring grass. The brittle, weather aged timbers proving a most welcome shelter for our local resident population of black, brown and copperhead snakes, that somehow saw it as their seminal duty in life to guard the ghosts of times long past.
As some of the more industrious local lads had discovered the age old art of hide tanning, some of these joe-blakes were destined to meet a far more ignominious ending by becoming a local trade item, in the form of hat bands and jean belts.
A fleeting piece of childhood memory momentarily regained. Unfortunately like all of lifes succinctly sweet moments it is never long before a little voice inside says, ``Click your heels together Dorothy cause you aint in Kansas anymore !´´
It was always a magical kind of place as the clumps of flowers often chose to hug the historic remains of the old Buningyong to Ballaarat railway line which was closed down in the early part of the 1900‘s. Those small sections still remaining, some how retained some lingering essence of the romance and adventure that surrounded that era of the steam locomotives. The skeletal remains of the track’s sleepers, still staked to the earth with rusting metal spikes, lay like broken bones almost turned dust amongst the verdent green of the Spring grass. The brittle, weather aged timbers proving a most welcome shelter for our local resident population of black, brown and copperhead snakes, that somehow saw it as their seminal duty in life to guard the ghosts of times long past.
As some of the more industrious local lads had discovered the age old art of hide tanning, some of these joe-blakes were destined to meet a far more ignominious ending by becoming a local trade item, in the form of hat bands and jean belts.
A fleeting piece of childhood memory momentarily regained. Unfortunately like all of lifes succinctly sweet moments it is never long before a little voice inside says, ``Click your heels together Dorothy cause you aint in Kansas anymore !´´