Caught Unprepared
I'm almost nonchalant about our stop in Adelaide, Australia. When we first visited it in 2016, it was one of the easiest cruise ports. We'd simply stroll from the terminal into the city centre—no planning, no stress. Once there, we'd hop onto the free City Loop bus that circles the main attractions.
At the tourist information booth, a cheerful, courteous lady hands me a city map and patiently answers my questions. Our main destination is the Botanical Gardens, a place I hadn't fully done justice to on my previous visit and was looking forward to exploring more this time.
But. . . . The "new" cruise terminal is no longer within walking distance of the city. It's about a 40 minute ride away. We can either take a train or catch a bus. The train departs every twenty minutes and takes about forty-five minutes, winding through Adelaide's suburbs. The buses take roughly the same time.
‘Poof’ goes our carefree plan. Our brains go into a furtive rethink.
Outside the terminal, two buses appear to be waiting. Almost at the same moment a train pulls into the station. Which one now? Do the buses leave immediately, or do they wait until they're full? Will the train get us there faster? For a few addled moments we stand there, map in hand, trying to make sense of it all. What had been the easiest port of call has become a head scratcher.
Global influence:Tactics to Reduce Fuel Consumption
We decide to take the train into the city. Buying a ticket proves less straightforward than expected. A long queue snakes its way to the ticket machines, and cash isn't accepted.
As we wait, we learn something interesting about Adelaide's public transport system. Australian seniors pay just A$4.60 for a single journey, and if they return within three hours, the trip back is free ( for this month at least). The catch? You need to be an Australian senior with the appropriate concession card. The local passengers are delighted by the arrangement.
The concession isn't simply an act of generosity. At this time, concerns over the disruption to global oil supplies caused by the US-Iran conflict has prompted measures to encourage people to leave their cars at home and use public transport instead. It is a reminder of how quickly events unfolding on the other side of the world can influence everyday life in a city thousands of kilometres away.
For visitors like us, the best option is a A$10 day ticket, allowing unlimited travel without time restrictions.
Once aboard, we tap our cards on the electronic reader. The train is crowded, so we count ourselves fortunate to find seats.
The journey is the destination
As the train rolls through Adelaide's suburbs, it offers something we would otherwise have missed. Instead of arriving directly in the heart of the city from the old port, we pass neighbourhoods of neat older homes standing beside modern developments. The journey becomes a revelation of how the city has quietly grown beyond the city and tourist centres.
Another thoughtful touch
We emerge from the cavernous railway station and are greeted by a set of steps wide enough to host a marching band. For those with weak knees, there's a rather broad ramp leading to street level. Adelaide, it seems, believes in giving everyone options.
More than just a stroll
The city is a cheerful hive of activity. Trams and buses in bright green, yellow and red glide through the streets, each colour marking a different route. Add these colours to the traffic lights and it becomes a constant kaleidoscope of colour contrasting with the dignified older government buildings. Despite all the movement, nobody appears to be in a hurry.
Slowing down to appreciate
The Botanical Gardens are about a 30-minute walk away. When we arrive our pace naturally slows to a leisurely pace. Some sections of the garden have begun to wilt. Only a rose or two clings to the bushes. Many patches are being reworked. Still, the beautiful conservatory, the arbours and the fascinating collection of plants keep us happily occupied.
The liveliest sight of all is a covey of wide-eyed preschool children enthusiastically discovering the wonders of plants. Their teachers point out leaves and flowers with great seriousness while the youngsters seem far more interested in running from one exciting discovery to the next. Their infectious enthusiasm brings a burst of joy to an otherwise wilting garden.
From quiet streets to busy boulevards
We check the time. All aboard is at 4.30 p.m., so if we're back at the station by 3.30, we'll have a comfortable margin. That gives us another hour to wander before retracing our steps. All we have to do is return to the major intersection, turn towards the old city square, and continue to the station.
Strange how familiar streets can feel so different only a few hours later. The quiet roads we walked earlier have come alive. The afternoon rush is in full swing, with office workers, shoppers, students and tourists all weaving around one another. Trams rumble past at regular intervals, buses glide in and out of stops, and the city hums with an energy we hadn't noticed before.
As we walk, we're struck by how effortlessly Adelaide blends its past with its present. Elegant sandstone buildings, reminders of another era, stand shoulder to shoulder with sleek glass towers. Neither seems out of place; instead, they complement one another, as though the city has found a way to embrace both history and modernity.
The city square is a hive of construction activity, fenced off as major upgrading works continue, so we don't linger. Instead, we turn towards the station, satisfied that we've seen a different side of Adelaide than the one that greeted us that morning, or in an earlier visit.
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