Glebe - Destined for landfill

It used to be a three-storey mansion but has settled, over the decades, into being a derelict old house. There are some items of note, some detritus worth saving. Such as these small lead-lights, but little else. The crumbling stables out the back excited me more.

Word-of-mouth has it that the block cost the developer $11 million. He must have known there was a heritage order on it. But he is plugging away at the council. There is little to recommend the structure, except that the town-houses that replace it will last less than 50 years. Everything is built to decay nowadays.

Sydney from on high (5)

Looking west, we trace the line of the harbour as it ceases to be Port Jackson, and becomes either the Parramatta River or the Lane Cove River. This is the water that you see over where I was unable to avoid the reflections from the rounded windows. There are two expanses of water closer to us, and more in front. Immediately in front of my camera position is the entrance to Darling Harbour, which projects into the landform called Cockle Bay. The building with the white roof is the National Maritime Museum, which is alongside the Pyrmont bridge, which still carried the monorail in September when I took this set of images. Follow the bridge along what appears to be a tree-lined street. See the two pylons of the ANZAC Bridge which spans the entrance to Johnson's Bay, Glebe, to the left of the bridge? It is a glorious walk around the Glebe foreshore in the early mornings with the city providing a near-quiet and un-busy back-drop. From the observation level of the Sydney Tower, Sydney, Australia.

Taphophile Tragics - Being up yourself

It is rare in an Australian cemetery to see a statue of a deceased person. There are plenty of statues, but they tend to be either religious, or have pretensions to Greece or Rome. So this statue of Robert Hancock out at Rookwood Necropolis stopped me in my tracks the other day. Very English landed-gentry, isn't it? To put it in our Australian vernacular: 'Geez, this bloke was up himself!' The dedication states that Hancock died in 1876 aged 69 years. It doesn't give details of family or status, or even allow one to assume his remains are interred beneath. But ... wanting to see the statue from the back, I burst out laughing. There is a plaque on the base of the rear of the statue that states that the statue was erected by Robert Hancock in May 1844. Well, thinks I, that confirms my original assessment of his character. Then, I twigged. Rookwood only opened in 1867, so the statue must have been erected elsewhere, and moved here upon Hancock's death.

Hancock followed his father into the George Street wheelwright business in 1837, whilst at the same time leasing the 'Britannia Inn'. He divested himself of the wheelwright shackle in 1847 and bought the Wellington Inn, and Tower Inn which he renamed 'Tower Court'. In 1873, he moved on to the 'Lady of the Lake' in Bay Street Glebe. Going from the date on the plaque (1844), Hancock must have erected the statue at the 'Britannia'. His documents, held by the State Library, indicate that the statue was moved from his pub to the cemetery upon his death. The 'Dictionary of Sydney' has a short phrase about Hancock calling him a publican and petty thief. The Glebe Society goes further, stating 'When the Lady of the Lake’s wealthy owner Robert Hancock took over, the place became a haunt for derelicts,outlaws, vagabonds, thieves and ‘haybag’ women'. His papers indicate a court case over cheating two children of a friend out of their inheritance. Some friend! In addition, there were contentions with his own will after his death, with an 1870 version and an 1875 version.

He married Catherine Ball in May 1829, but I found no record to offspring. Which might be where the hunting dog comes in. She bares an incredible resemblance to the she-wolf that suckled Romulus and Remus in the Roman creation theory. But how did her ear get ripped off? She looks a bit like a Staffie. I sure would not want to meet that man and that dog down a back alley late at night!

What do you think a 'hay-bag' woman was?

This is my contribution to the Taphophile Tragics community.

The Glebe: a tale of two cities

As one walks across the Tasman Bridge, deep in the commanding background rises Mount Wellington which on my first day was blowing a blizzard and covered with a foot of snow!


However, lowering my eyes there is a ridge running N-S on the Derwent side of which rises the glory of the Royal Tasmanian Botanic Gardens. In the lee of the ridge, on the western or Hobart side of this ridge rises the quaint suburb of The Glebe. Imagine my immense delight ...


This suburb is a hash of about a dozen streets that tumble down the side of the Queen's Domain (1860). However, judging from their Federation styling, I take the suburb to have been settled in the very early years of the 20th century.


Most of the houses (the ones that interest me, at any rate!) are made of weatherboard, but this is not surprising in a state renown for its timber industry. Here for your pleasure is a selection from the 20 or so photographs that I took as I floated around the gorgeous houses.

A haven for foodies

Glebe Point Road runs the full length of the spur, from near the intersection of Broadway, Parramatta Road and City Road, the 2kms down to a dead end at the water's edge that is Johnson Bay/Black Wattle Bay. The first 500m of this is awash with ethnic eateries: sprouting up to cater for the massive influx of international students to the two universities in close proximity - The University of Technology and The University of Sydney - and to the experimentation of the general student population.

Glebe Point Road is a prime example of the geographer's term "ribbon development".

Homeward bound

As this lad is wending his way home from uni on a Friday afternoon, so today I wend my way home after ten days in and around Hobart.

Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing, Home where my love lies waiting Silently for me.

Silence born of boredom

Only a married couple can ignore each other this totally ...

Switching to autopilot whilst I galivant around southern Tasmania for 10 days, returning Monday 5th October.

Glass and old lace

Talfourd Street runs parallel to Glebe Point Road on the City side. This glorious entry way is in the section down from the corner with the Court House one side and the cop shop the other, between St Johns Road (nearly said "avenue" there, but St Johns Avenue is up in Gordon, a somewhat toffee-nosed enclave of our fair city!!) and Bridge Street.

Switching to autopilot whilst I galivant around southern Tasmania for 10 days, returning Monday 5th October.

Coffee dean

What is a coffee "dean"?

I know a coffee bean. I know a coffee den.

But what is a coffee "dean"?

Switching to autopilot whilst I galivant around southern Tasmania for 10 days, returning Monday 5th October.

Tattered Bookmarks - Glebe Point Road

Thankfully the current tenant - a Spanish Tapas joint - has not felt the need to stencil over Wai Sing's sign. Shame that Wai Sing did not show the same sensitivities!

So ... what did Wai Sing stencil over? Can you read it?

Switching to autopilot whilst I galivant around southern Tasmania for 10 days, returning Monday 5th October.

Outdoor dunnies

Another airing of the outdoor dunnies on Lombard Lane, half a block east of Glebe Point Road, running down toward Marlborough Street. The previous post was a sedate early morning scene. Wanting, this time, to capture the riotous tumble, I wended my way through during my mid-day break.

Switching to autopilot whilst I galivant around southern Tasmania for 10 days, returning Monday 5th October.

The DCP follows the LEP all managed by the CSPC

An aerial map of the Harold Park site including the tram sheds which are the red rectangles in the top RH corner of the red outlined area.

From the Lord Mayor's Media machine today, I received an email releasing the Community Consultation papers for the planning of the Harold Park site. If you recall, last week I did a series on the area, including the canal, the harness racing track, the lite-rail and the disused tram sheds. Riffling through the guff in my snail-mail box, I received a paper copy of a very similar document. Last night, as I photographed some really beautiful terraces along The Crescent, I was button-holed by a resident - Gareth - and the conversation quickly turned to the future of the large valley behind us.

Two women will be guiding this decision: Clover Moore, the Lord Mayor of Sydney and Kristina Keneally the state government Minister for Planning.

It peeves me that I will be inter-state next week when all the consultation will take place with the community. Then it goes to the Committee heavily weighted (well 4-3) in favour of the Planning Minister. Do read the story about her at the link - she is a regular little charmer. I will make my submissions online. I will put my thoughts up on Plumbing should you be interested.

The documents indicate that Harold Park Paceway value the development potential at $760m which is a bit rich considering they want to sell to avoid losing money; that the land for the paceway came from the government in 1902 and ownership of the tram sheds was transferred to them in 2002 - nothing about them paying anything for the land or the sheds. The tram sheds are heritage listed under the Leichhardt LEP, 2000.

Below, is a view of the harness race-track that is Harold Park.

DCP = Development Control Plan
LEp = Local Environmental Plan
CSPC = Central Sydney Planning Committee

Those who cannot remember the past

"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" aphorised George Santayana.


The old Rozelle Tram Sheds are alongside the Johnson Creek canal tucked in behind Harold Park Paceway. They have been vandalised in an overwhelmingly tragic and demeaning manner. Trams are a sorely missed iconic reminder of our city's past: a reminder of the foolish deeds of politicians and the futile fad-following of the hoi polloi.

Many thanks to Peter Liebeskind for the above two images. He has been most generous with access to his Flickr site

During the 1950s the motor car ruled the roost, and the NRMA pressured the lilly-livered pollies - the likes of Cahill, Heffron, Renshaw and Askin - into removing this cheap and efficient means of mass people movement from our streets, to make way for the ascendency of cars and their concrete flyovers. The tramway was in place from 1861 until its winding down in the 1950s and closure in 1961. It had a maximum street mileage of 291 km in 1923 and at one time could boast in excess of 1,500 trams!


The Rozelle Tram Sheds opened in 1904 and closed in 1958. Ownership rested with the government for 50 years until being transferred to the NSW Harness Racing Corp in 2002. The damage had been done during those 50 years of neglect. Now these buildings and their contents cannot be given away.


Here, in 1955, an O class tram (thanks to Bruce Caspersonn who corrected an error in the text here) rattles out of the sheds, along the canal and into The Crescent heading up Ross Street towards Parramatta Road and, thence, into the city to its terminus at Fort Macquarie (Bennelong Point). This trip was two sections and cost 1/-.

With all the developments in the preceding 54 years, it is difficult to reproduce the '55 image. The curve is now underneath the circular overhang of the pacing track - it was too dangerous to venture under there. Standing as close as I could - would that I had the guts to jump into the canal! - I took a photograph to the south (the concrete monstrosity) and to the north (the canal).


Such a sobering set of images ... Let us pay tribute to the past and to its people.


Image 1: Taken in 1930 as a tram heads West up Broadway just prior to turning into Glebe Point Road. Sydney University is on the left.
Image 2: Taken in 1957 as trams turn to their right from Parramatta Road into Glebe Point Road.
Image 3: Taken in 1958 as a tram progresses along Glebe Point Road.

I also wish to extend my appreciation to LindsayBridge for access to the superb set of tram images on his Flickr site

Nicky loves Rory

Johnson Creek canal

Entering what I have realised is Rozelle Bay, Johnson's Creek is a facade: the front is beautiful but what lies behind is tawdry, as this series of images atests. This Labrador and his human have an early morning ritual. The dog fords to the centre of the canal just before it enters the bay then, with his guardian walking the "tow path" he dog-paddles around to the next set of steps which would have to be a good 200m!

Over there, across the bay, is the start of the ship-building neighbourhood. More of that next week. In the early morning light, the higgledy-piggedly yards are drop-dead gorgeous. Twizzle on my heel, looking up the creek/canal, there is the pedestrian bridge from which I took photos of the viaduct mid-week.


These two areas of greensward aren't contiguous, as these images might imply but they do give a good feel for the first third of my morning walk around Glebe. I walk for about 15 minutes through this type of terrain and try to envisage the geography when the First Fleet arrived. Richard Johnson came over on the First Fleet in 1788 and Governor Philip granted him land on which to build a church. This sort of land granted for ecclesiastic purposes is known as a "glebe". Johnson was a bit of an ineffectual minister and it was not until the arrival of the fire-breathing Samuel Marsden, that the life of the church in the new colony progressed.


Travelling further up the creek/canal, I look back toward the viaduct that I have been weaving in and out of all week. That white dribble is most definitely chemicals leaching from the mortar. And very ugly it is too! Look around to the south again and be confronted with the gruesome ugliness of the Harold Park Paceway which apparently needed more space for its circular track. This is the bit I most definitely would not want to walk at night.



These two images were taken from the Wigram Road bridge, the first looking north down the creek and the second looking south, up the creek. The graffiti is overwhelming. And ugly. And baffling. The entire area is owned and upkept (hah!) by the Water Board.


This was as far as I travelled: the Booth Street overpass in Annandale. Google Map tells me that Johnson Creek continues on up through Mallett Street Camperdown, until it is sourced somewhere in Stanmore. I suspect it is like the iconic Tank Stream in the CBD which only exists underground.

Richard Johnson's contribution to the fledling colony is commemorated in Johnson's Bay, Johnson's Creek and Johnson Street, the main thoroughfare through Annandale. Not bad for a bit of a loser ...

Skywatch - head in the clouds

Having spent the week weaving in and out of the Jubilee Park viaduct, today we inspect the track and the tram. The Lite-rail is powered by electricity fed through above-ground cables.


From the vantage point of Jubilee Tram Stop, I can catch the next tram as it buzzes effortlessly toward me over the viaduct. These shots were taken about 4:30pm into the setting early Spring sun.


From Jubilee Stop, the tram enters the Glebe tunnel which takes it through the spur that is Glebe Point Road. Immediately on the other side of this tunnel is the Glebe Tram Stop which is very close to Wentworth Park and the Pyrmont FishMarkets.

What have other Skywatchers around the world found as they have been looking into the skies this week?