*TRANSPORTED IN TIME - SINEWS OF SYDNEY



Sydney Ö "Class Tram on its dedicated track on the Harbour Bridge, the track leads along to Wynyard Tram Station on the same level as , and visible from, the Platforms for the Western Suburbs and the North Shore trains

Through all of my school life and into my early  working life, trams were an integral, but increasingly contoversial part of the City's transport life. The network was, in its time , reputedly the second largest in the world.Most people to-day would be surprised at its extent shown in the following map:

The controversy arose after WW II when burgeoning motor vehicle traffic, combined with Sydney's mostly narrow streets, found the old ladies of the tracks too slow and too obstructive as traffic came to a halt each time the tram stopped. Perhaps the campaign was being supported by the bus producers( who knows? In the USA General Motors systematically bought up the tram companies and closed them down in order to promote bus sales!). I was not among the agitators - and I didn't care if it was the modern thing to do, and "the whole world"is getting rid of trams -which wasn't true in any case.

Sydney "O "Class Tram - my favourites.

I loved the trams, especially the older "O "Class on which I most frequently travelled. I loved the two open compartments at either end, sitting on the very side wedged against the curved brass handhold. The Conductors, standing on the footboards, which enabled passengers to step up into the tram, used to have to hold onto these brass fittings as they swung themselves along from compartment to compartment collecting fares. It was fairly dangerous considering cars and trucks whizzing past, and rather unpleasant in rainy weather.

The trams were heavily built and their old, but it seems , reliable electric motors were rather noisy, as were the wheels. It was great to hear the increasing rhythm of the motors, their heavy "run-run, run-run, RUN-RUN,RUN-RUN "sound rising as the matching rhythm of the wheels over the track joints( no spot welded joints then) added to the effect. Trams being what they are , they could manage 90 degree tuns on very tight arcs. My favourite was turning out of George Street in the City into King Street - the Tram car appeared to be well behind the wheels in getting around the bend and described a much wider arc than the track of course. The screech of the wheels was agonising as they protested their treatment.And there was the occasional flash and crack as the power pole contact made the transition from the George Street wires to the King Street wires.

The corner of George St. (L-R) and King street in an earlier era. Note on the right hand corner facing is the then famous Belfield's Hotel. The owner, J.B.Belfield was a famous Billiards Champion, Hotelier and wealthy real estate investor. He was renowned in Sydney society as a very fine Gentleman and doted on his beautiful wife who sadly died early. He was a relative of my wife on her Mother's side. Note that there was at that time no connection between the George Street tramway and the King Street line.

During my last two years of School - at Marist Brothers' Darlinghurst, I travelled daily on the tram from Eddy Street at Central station up to Darlo. It was great. Tram travel gave a real "feel"for the City.The wooden slats of the seats defied any desire for comfort and you were in the midst of everything, noise, weather ( good or bad) and the total ambience of the place. Other tram trips I had made often , but irregularly were to Bronte Beach whenever I went with the Drydens across the street from us.Their son Brien was the same age as me and we had been friends since the beginning of Primary School at St Peter Chanel's Convent School Berala. The trip out to Bronte was long and good fun until we turned into Macpherson Street at Waverley and I got the first whiff of the sea air - a cold chill would settle on my little tummy. I could not swim, and I knew, no matter how pleasant people were, that it was bound to be a background cause of humiliation. Oh well! There was always the Parkland at the back of the Beach to explore AND the ride on train to enjoy!

On one of these visits to Bronte we went across to the Milk Bar, and there I had my first Coca Cola. It had been unavailable during the War and now here it was , the great American treat! I enjoyed it very much.

The Tram Station at Randwick Racecourse.

On rare occasions, about twice a year, I would go with Mum and Dad to the Races.We went both Randwick and Canterbury. Randwick was a great tram ride from Central Station and Canterbury we went to by train and from time to time caught the tram to the City where we would have our evening meal in one of the ubiquitous "Sargeant's Pies Restaurants. If my memory serves me rightly you could get several different accompaniments to your Sargeant's Pie for dinner. There were about eight of these establishments in the City.This was a good indicator of the degree of sophistication of the average Sydneysider's dining choices, at least at our income level.

The tram trip from Canterbury to the City was quite long and somewhat "dampened"by parental supervision and tiredness after a long day. I quite enjoyed, and still do, the actual races, but, particularly as an early teenager I found the waiting between races boring and would read. Teenagers are impossible!

One particularly memorable tram trip was to The Spit and it must have been in 1944 or thereabouts travelling with my Mum and my Aunt Nell. We were headed to Manly - for some reason choosing tram and bus rather than the Ferry. There were four American Servicemen in our open compartment.They were very polite and very pleasant as they helped us down from the tram compartment . They were also very Black! This made a marked impression on me  because I don't believe I had ever met a black person before! I guess Mum and Nell were fearful I might say something out of place, but I didn't. Perhaps the fact that Mum had always drilled into me the equal value of all people before God had its effect.

As you may gather I really enjoyed my times on the trams and regret their having passed away. (P.S. That large lumbering "light rail"thing from Central to wherever doesn't count - it has no character!) And as for the wretched Monorail - don't get me started!)