Opinion
My suburb was promised a train station, but all we’re getting is a ‘trackless tram’
Nick Brennan
ContributorBy the time my family first moved to my suburb, it was already going through a transformation. What had been a big chunk of farmland and bushland 27 kilometres east of the CBD was by 1985 in the process of being developed into a new south-eastern hub. A train station and other transport infrastructure that would make it accessible would, we were told, come soon.
It was for many years off the edge of the map for most Melburnians. When asked where I lived, you could be certain there would be a follow-up question: “Where’s that?” I’d cycle through its close neighbours – Scoresby, Wantirna, or Ferntree Gully – until eventually receiving an expression of recognition.
Rowville has since cast off its obscurity and developed into a quite sought-after suburb for those who are not wealthy enough to afford closer to the city, or who would prefer to spend their couple of million on a spacious McMansion than settle for a modest weatherboard in one of the more glamorous postcodes.
One of the largest suburbs in Melbourne’s south-east, it now boasts nearly 34,000 souls (putting it in Australia’s top 30 suburbs by population). It has shopping centres, a mega-pub, enough fast-food outlets to distress a nutritionist and a decent smattering of light industry providing employment for those not willing to take on the notorious Monash Car Park – sorry, freeway – to the city. Strangely, most of the milk bars have survived.
Today’s Rowville is a microcosm of the success of Australian multiculturalism. On our leafy close, folk from Chinese, Sri Lankan, Indian and Anglo-Saxon origins live in quiet harmony, with most getting together for our annual street party. There are, like us, a couple of residents who have been here since the birth of our modest 40-year-old street and have watched house prices move from the $70,000s to more than a million dollars, extensions and beautifications notwithstanding.
Despite its transformation, Rowville has kept the bucolic ambience of its farmland days. It was named after 19th-century wool merchant Frederick Row, and his family’s magnificent Stamford House Homestead, built in 1882, has been beautifully restored after years of neglect. Now a fine restaurant, the historic building set on six acres of grounds is once again a destination.
Historic estates aside, it is difficult, given the range of housing available in Rowville – from grand ranch-style homes on acre blocks, to one-bed units on subdivided blocks – to give the suburb a class label. It is egalitarian with a strong hint of an aspiration, a trait that has helped make the Aston electorate a conservative stronghold for many years. Perhaps the significant population of self-employed tradies and small business owners has something to do with it – one does not need census data to note the expensive late-model utilities and vans parked in local driveways.
However, we have seen a change. With the abrupt departure of federal MP Alan Tudge in 2023, Labor’s Mary Doyle has been handed the – if not poisoned, then certainly tainted – chalice of delivering that long-awaited railway station to Rowvillians.
A trackless tram, whatever that is, has been proposed to connect us through to Monash Uni Clayton, Chadstone Shopping Centre and Caulfield station, but most residents would still prefer a traditional station connected by rail.
But whether it involves connections to the Pakenham or Glen Waverley lines, all of the options come with a hefty price tag. So while the idea of a rail link to Rowville has been around since the 1969 Melbourne Transportation Plan, it hasn’t made it past the planner’s whiteboard.
If the train is your thing, the best current option is the trip to Ferntree Gully for a 60-minute ride into the city. Not ideal, but you have the consolation of a seat for your journey. You can drive to the city in only 35 minutes off-peak from Rowville, but during the peak, it is more comforting to measure time not in minutes, but in podcasts listened to.
Given its proximity to the Dandenong Ranges, Rowville residents can easily enjoy these beautiful forests without the worry of the devastating fires that have ravaged the area from time to time. As immigrants from the northern hemisphere, our family has delighted in the towering gums that still grow along our streets.
Alas, they are not popular with all residents. Many complain they are too big and leave too much debris. As a final straw, their roots are playing havoc with underground utility piping/cabling and are now destined for the arborist’s chainsaw. At least the cockatoos will be happy; they seem to have taken a liking to the deciduous oaks and revel in the mess they make each autumn.
The planners are to be commended for fitting in a pleasing mix of parks and reserves, including three golf courses. Rowville Lakes, formerly known as Tirhatuan, provides good golf and competitive green fees. The merit of its name change eludes me, not only because the former Aboriginal title had a connection to the area but also because the largely low-lying course has suffered from unwanted sogginess at times.
Rowville does have one small blemish – small, that is, depending on how close that blemish is to your residence. Three high-voltage transmission towers march like steel giants across the edge of our suburb and Timbertop – one of the more prestigious estates. Go figure. Ah well, somebody has to have them.
The area, around the junction of Stud and Wellington roads, once housed a World War II prisoner of war camp for captured Italian soldiers. It is reported that some stayed on after hostilities had ended and contributed their labour to the local farming industry. If the 10-pound Pom was an effective initiative, I’m sure the zero-lira Italian was equally excellent value.
Families with sports-minded kids have the prestigious Rowville Sports Academy at Rowville Secondary College, specialising in Australian rules, basketball, soccer, tennis, golf and volleyball.
A suburb is not only judged by the amenities provided within its boundaries, but also on the level of access to other delights. The construction of the EastLink freeway on Rowville’s doorstep, with a connection to the Peninsula Link, now puts the wonderful southern end of Port Phillip Bay just over an hour’s drive away.
Are we happy with our 1985 decision? Well, 40 years later, we are still here in the same modestly renovated house. Our children have moved on to the inner ’burbs, but still happily reminisce about their youth in the sticks. When asked where they grew up, their answer is usually met with a more satisfying: “Oh, Rowville. I hear it’s nice out there.”
Nick Brennan is a retired Australia Post manager and long-time resident of Rowville.
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