Take A Mode Of Transport You've Never Travelled Before
I couldn't find a rickshaw. And I didn't care to sit in a golf buggy. A camel, as suggested in my 52 Dates For Writers book, didn't appeal to me too much, either.
So I did what any birthday girl might do for week 20 of my Author Challenge. I hinted to my Beloved about a ride on Melbourne's Colonial Tramcar Restaurant.
Now, I've dined in my share of restaurants and even ridden a Melbourne tram on occasion. But I'd never combined the two and never on my birthday.
My challenge was to enjoy the journey. (This was not gatecrash a party which I'm terrified of ticking off the list later this year)
And what could bring more joy to an historical nut, than a ride and dinner in an historical tram?
Our tramcar arrived right on time, one in a fleet of burgundy restaurants on wheels, sleek and glossy against the backdrop of an autumn dusk. Outside, the street lights came to life but didn't enchant me nearly as much as the gooseneck lamps and ornate drapes inside the tram.
Fine linens and silver service didn't disappoint either, and with our carriage rattling past Melbourne's historic landmarks under the cover of night, it wasn't hard to imagine I'd stepped back into another time.
Plush velvets and polished brass fittings, attentive servers and soothing conversation will sway any girl on her birthday. How could I not enjoy? But the moment which took me into the footstep of my heroines, came right at the end when the porter/waiter (or was he the driver?) offered his hand when I stepped off the conveyance into the reality of Melbourne's streets below.
My Beloved waited on the other side of the gutter, but the tramcar official remained stationed at the bottom of the steps, where he farewelled all passengers with a 'Good Night, Cheerio.'
Somehow, that chivalrous gesture crowned the night in the essence I chase. The detail of history and manners. A way of life not tasted by me when I jump out of my car and race into the modern life I know so well.
In my mind, I wasn't wearing modern dress and shoes. For less than a flicker, my foot hit the ground in a Victorian era side button leather boot, and my hem just missed the muddy pavement.
After all, a girl's allowed to dream on her birthday. Especially when her author challenge tells her so.
Have you taken a ride on an unusual mode of transport?
Blessings for a wonderful weekend,
I couldn't find a rickshaw. And I didn't care to sit in a golf buggy. A camel, as suggested in my 52 Dates For Writers book, didn't appeal to me too much, either.
 |
| Melbourne's Tramcar Restaurant |
Now, I've dined in my share of restaurants and even ridden a Melbourne tram on occasion. But I'd never combined the two and never on my birthday.
My challenge was to enjoy the journey. (This was not gatecrash a party which I'm terrified of ticking off the list later this year)
And what could bring more joy to an historical nut, than a ride and dinner in an historical tram?
Our tramcar arrived right on time, one in a fleet of burgundy restaurants on wheels, sleek and glossy against the backdrop of an autumn dusk. Outside, the street lights came to life but didn't enchant me nearly as much as the gooseneck lamps and ornate drapes inside the tram.
Fine linens and silver service didn't disappoint either, and with our carriage rattling past Melbourne's historic landmarks under the cover of night, it wasn't hard to imagine I'd stepped back into another time.
Plush velvets and polished brass fittings, attentive servers and soothing conversation will sway any girl on her birthday. How could I not enjoy? But the moment which took me into the footstep of my heroines, came right at the end when the porter/waiter (or was he the driver?) offered his hand when I stepped off the conveyance into the reality of Melbourne's streets below.
My Beloved waited on the other side of the gutter, but the tramcar official remained stationed at the bottom of the steps, where he farewelled all passengers with a 'Good Night, Cheerio.'
Somehow, that chivalrous gesture crowned the night in the essence I chase. The detail of history and manners. A way of life not tasted by me when I jump out of my car and race into the modern life I know so well.In my mind, I wasn't wearing modern dress and shoes. For less than a flicker, my foot hit the ground in a Victorian era side button leather boot, and my hem just missed the muddy pavement.
After all, a girl's allowed to dream on her birthday. Especially when her author challenge tells her so.
 |
| Melbourne's Tramcar Restaurant |
Have you taken a ride on an unusual mode of transport?
Blessings for a wonderful weekend,
