I can very easily stay in my little corner of the world and consider a tram to the next suburb a major mission. In the holidays, I discovered the joy of day tripping. It took me so long to find out. And I found out. I realised that an escape to the country was simply a train ride away. It’s amazing what a contemplative ride in the quiet carriage; a change of scene, some countrified air and a scone can do for the constitution and the soul.
The Orient Express: There is something magical about old school train travel, reminiscent of the days women travelled in hats and gloves and conductors wore spiffy red coats. This nostalgia may or may not be because I have just read Agatha Christie’s “Murder on the Orient Express” (I’m a modern girl). Yes, I am a licensed driver now (don’t act like you’re not impressed) but a train ride allows one to sit back, watch the scenery roll by and daydream or read mystery novels. The V-Line trains are the glamourous cousins to the suburban ones; plush blue seats, baggage racks, bathrooms and conductors. Quiet carriages for daydreaming and stops at tiny little country stations complete with paddock parking. Bless!
There’s gold in them thar hills: My mate Dave and I took the train to Ballarat. A gold rush town steeped in history and Nanna chic. I never thought to go before but it was like a world new world from a bygone era. A walk down the street is a walk back in time and as the website says: The wealth generated during the gold rush of the 1850s deposited a plethora of Victorian and Edwardian buildings, churches, statues and gardens. It really is quite magnificent and very quiet like a deserted film set or something. We didn’t do any of the gold rush stuff (next time) but simply walked and marvelled and popped into the op shop and bookshop and a café for a pot of tea in floral cups and a slice of cake as endorsed by the Nannas knitting in the window. What a nostalgic trip and delicious cuppa.
Take the air: My next trip was a solo mission to the wee little town of Kyneton in the Macedon Ranges. I was back on the V-line contemplating life, the universe and everything and how Poirot does it! The little grey cells. Before I knew it, I was in Kyneton and taking in the crisp fresh air and the crunch of the vibrant Autumnal leaves underfoot and overhead. Kyneton is Daylesford’s cute little sister. As charming, arty and olde worlde but smaller and quieter. I walked through the Botanic Gardens, browsed the shops and had another Nanna-approved meal of quiche and salad at a cute café.
On my return to the city after my day trips, I felt restored and refreshed and satiated. I’m happy to be a day tripper, Sunday driver yeah. It took me so long to find out. And I found out. All this wonderment is on our doorstep! I’m eagerly planning my next escape to the country on a train for tea.
Are you a day tripper dear reader?
Love and light and rarefied country air xxx Yvette