I have only been here for a few months.
In effect I am still half way trough redesigning my flat.
A small affair, only 1 bedroom but my 2 balconies allow me to let the sea-breeze move freely trough the flat.
Williamstown is on the west side of the river Yarra, the river that splits Melbourne from North to South.
Having been running around like a headless Chicken, trying to move, take a quick holiday in the U.S. and juggling a project while sparring with Lawyers, has me at a disadvantage talking about the place.
And yet I have been bringing overseas friends, here, for lunch, forever.
And arranging dinner for meetings at the local restaurants for years.
And every time I needed to get away I could cross over the West Gate Bridge and be on the opposite side of Port Phillip Bay in a trice leaving the dense traffic and multitudes behind.
Williamstown is a little place.
Jutting as it does into the bay; it collects breezes as Mother Goose collects goslings.
It is such a pleasant place that it is the original and first township in the state of Victoria.
Victorian Houses litter the place like Hamster droppings and wide tree lined-streets go off to either side of any road so as to provide shade n the cruel Australian sun.
One main road, a narrow road, Melbourne Road, leads the visitor to Ferguson Street. My street.
Ferguson Street has Williamstown spread from it like a stain as it crosses Douglas Parade, the shopping precinct, and goes down the slight incline to Nelson’s place.
Nelson’s Place hugs the bay.
On its sea-side it goes past the Boat-sheds, Chandlers, Tennis-courts, and park
On the other side of the road are Restaurants, Cake shops, Clothes, Pubs, novelty Shops and Spiritual caverns…Bur most of all Café’s and Al-Fresco dining ear-marks the shore-lined as a place for relaxation and conversation.