The parks in my valley suburb are great – but there’s a grim reason why

“Maree … Maree-ba … Maree-ba-nong,” she struggled to pronounce over the phone to me. It’s a conversation I’m familiar with over my years here, so I quickly put her out of her misery: “Marra-ba-nong, you mean?”

“Oh, is that how you say it?” she said, relieved at my less than discreet correction.

Maribyrnong is not as glamorous as its better-known northern neighbour Moonee Ponds. Nor is it as lively as Footscray, now gentrified, to the south. To me, the suburb where I grew up straddles the “best of the west”, with its bird-filled parks and the chaos of its huge shopping centre car parks. But more than anything, it is the river that rules.

The Indigenous people of the Kulin Nations inhabited this valley for more than 40,000 years, and we use an anglicised version of their phrase Mirring-gnay-bir-nong – “I can hear a ringtail possum” – for this bend in the river and the land it encircles about eight kilometres north-west of Melbourne’s CBD. However, the possums seem to occupy more rooftops than gum trees these days.

Frequent mispronunciation is the least of this little suburb’s misfortunes. The popular and ever-expanding Highpoint Shopping Centre has for some time – fairly or not – been nicknamed “Knifepoint” due to its reputation for crime. While it’s not uncommon to see a car or two sporting a giant yellow sheriff’s-wheel clamp, in my experience the former bluestone quarry is more a haven for keen-eyed bargain hunters than armed and angry gangs.

Suburbs situated in narrow valleys do have their downsides. It wouldn’t be a trip down the main drag, Raleigh Road, at the weekend if you weren’t frustratingly stuck behind a long line of traffic and a slow-moving and impassable Z-class tram.

But my suburb’s biggest misfortune is the regularity with which its namesake river rises over its banks, sometimes to devastating effect. After one of those floods, in 1993, I saw my grade 3 teacher Mr Cook standing in knee-high gumboots as muddy water lapped at his front fence. That’s one school excursion I will never forget.

Perched on a prominent point, near the Talip Bridge, you will find what must be the most resilient of all Maribyrnong’s icons – the recently reopened Anglers Tavern. Built in 1870, the pub has a dicey relationship with the river it overlooks but remains a steadfast and popular destination after countless resurrections.

Despite the threat of the river, the ongoing appeal of Maribyrnong can be seen in its patchwork of housing architecture. The diversity of those homes tells a quiet story of the waves of migrants, including my grandparents, who have come here for a slice of Melbourne’s famed liveability.

Those trams that trundle through Maribyrnong’s heart carried thousands of workers to its meatworks and munitions factories. A few heritage-listed examples of those buildings survive, including a war-era tram substation cleverly designed with an irregular roof to trick potential bombers flying overhead into mistaking it for a pond.

Pipemakers Park is another piece of local history. The park was once the location of factories producing frozen and canned meats, and visitors can now explore the many bluestone buildings that hummed with workers. It is dotted with the Australian-invented reinforced concrete pipes that were also constructed here, although locals know to be wary of the stray snakes that inhabit the area.

Paddlers on the Maribyrnong river, viewed from the Talip Bridge.Credit: Simon Schluter

Perhaps the most obvious attractions in Maribyrnong are the many parks that lie on floodplains and can never be built out. Relief from the inner city can be easily found here if you join the cyclists and pram-pushing parents on the endless walking tracks that meander by Canary Island date palms along the river’s edge. Most spectacular are the birds and wildlife that inhabit the man-made lakes at the Edgewater wetlands, where I sometimes catch up with a friend, a Polish plum doughnut and coffee in hand.

Alongside these riverside tracks are also relics of the suburb’s long association with horse racing. The historic Dale Stables, built in 1931, are among the few remaining examples of the local racing industry that serviced the nearby Flemington racecourse, as well as long-forgotten racecourses in Maribyrnong and Ascot Vale.

A sculpture commemorating Sandy, a famous warhorse.Credit: Simon Schluter

One piece of the suburb’s past that isn’t easily forgotten is its connection with Australia’s war effort. A huge chunk of the suburb – about one-quarter of it – is locked away as a former Defence site. The 128-hectare parcel of land was used to manufacture, store and test ammunition for almost 100 years until it closed in 1994. Growing up in Maribyrnong, I never heard any unusual sounds from over that fence. But given what was stored there, it was probably for the best.

Nearby housing estates tease at what might be achieved if the area is unlocked, but nobody has yet resolved how to deal with the extensive contamination from copper, lead, zinc and dozens of other chemicals. The site’s abandoned buildings – graffiti-ridden and dilapidated – are a sad testament to a once buzzing industry.

One particularly famous resident of that part of Maribyrnong was Sandy, renowned as the only one of Australia’s 169,000 horses that returned home from World War I. A memorial sits near the fields he occupied after his retirement, and a second bronze statue also stands at Highpoint to remind shoppers of the sacrifice made by Australian horses.

Maribyrnong now patiently waits for a grand masterplan for the Defence site to house the next generation. Perhaps it will even bring an end to the rising prices that pushed me out to suburbs further north. When developers eventually do come knocking, one can only hope it won’t become an urban calamity, but respects its proud history as well as the powerful river that surrounds it.

Chris Poropat is a nurse unit manager.

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