My suburb has panoramic views: ‘You can see the whole world!’

A few days after the Eastern Freeway opened, I decided to give my new red Ford Cortina station wagon a whirl. All those lanes and absolutely no other cars around – can you imagine? It felt like I was driving on my very own private highway. The freeway wasn’t popular in those early days – its construction had been controversial, with many opposing its route through Yarra Bend Park. Protesters in Melbourne’s inner north even built blockades and were ultimately successful in preventing it from continuing west of Hoddle Street.

But, in 1977, for residents of my then-growing suburb of Doncaster, 15 kilometres east of the CBD, and without a tram or train line, the freeway was a great convenience. A few years later, in 1983, the Eastern was extended from Bulleen to Doncaster, where it remained the end of the line for the next 14 years. Like Melbourne itself, it then continued to extend further east, and is currently undergoing a widening. The battle over its western extension is ongoing.

Growing up in suburban Thornbury, far-away Doncaster was like a rural paradise. In the early ’60s, I looked forward to those few Sunday mornings when my parents made the long trip to take me to MacColl’s Riding School on Thompsons Road, Bulleen, where 20-or-so horse riders would cross the paddocks of Doncaster, probably right across from where I now live. In the ’70s, when I married and moved to Doncaster, like quite a few of my school contemporaries, there was still a remnant of that rural atmosphere.

A horse was often agisted on the empty block of land next door, and a large plot of land at White’s corner, opposite Doncaster Shoppingtown, still had horses grazing from time to time. That site now hosts two large retailers. The east of Doncaster was underdeveloped, with orchards still there until this century. For us, Doncaster was close enough to family in the inner north, close to our workplaces in Kew, and there were still plots of vacant land.

Doncaster is constantly changing. When we moved to its western edge in 1972, houses were fairly new, and others like ours were still being constructed. Builders were using the new suburb to test out modern designs, including at Doncaster’s Winter Park estate, which used cluster housing and communal spaces to integrate with nature. For us, the leafy streets, albeit with small trees, were a real attraction to the area, and streets like Winters Way still remain a natural attraction with deciduous trees growing over the street, blossoming white in spring, green in summer and brilliant red in autumn. Other streets showcase beautiful red flowering gums. Today, as with numerous Melbourne suburbs, many of those 1970s houses are being demolished, to be replaced with large mansions, townhouses or blocks of units.

Doncaster is very hilly. While making cycling a challenge, it has panoramic views in every direction, particularly from the Doncaster Hill precinct, which on a clear day has views to the west through the city stretching out to Bacchus Marsh, the Macedon Ranges and the Kinglake Ranges to the north, the Healesville and Dandenong ranges to the east, and south across the eastern suburbs to Mount Waverley. Driving along Doncaster Road one day, as the CBD came into view in the distance, my little grandson said in wonder: “You can see the whole world!”

Shoppingtown, right in the middle of Doncaster, charts the history of the suburb. I have seen the retail district undergo several transformations, from a modest suburban centre to the Westfield behemoth it is today. Since its early days, the Shoppingtown tower has been a high point visible for kilometres around, even from Melbourne’s CBD.

Today, the tower is only one of many high-rise structures along Doncaster Road and Williams/Tram Road as part of a council vision to develop the Doncaster Hill precinct as an accommodation and commercial hub. There is a vibrancy to the area, aided by the large multicultural population not seen in the ’70s.

Doncaster is often thought of as a nice, middle-class suburb, a bit out of the way. When we settled here, it was very English and European, but much has changed. In particular, it is popular with migrants from China and Malaysia. It also has an older demographic now, which perhaps forced several school mergers and closures.

The local shopping strips have evolved from the butcher, the baker, the fruiterer and the shoe shop into cafes and restaurants, with a variety of cuisines: Italian, Greek, Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, Iranian, Indian, as well as fish and chips, and fusion – a bit of everything. Good coffee is everywhere.

Of all the places in Melbourne, it is my unlikely suburb of Doncaster that boasts Tram Road. It was the route of Australia’s first electric tram, which in 1889 used what was then new technology to carry tourists about 3.5 kilometres up through paddocks from the market town of Box Hill to a hotel and viewing tower at what later became Shoppingtown. Sadly, the tram route failed to be profitable and closed after just seven years, leaving Doncaster with a Tram Road and no trams. After the freeway’s construction, we were told for years to expect a Doncaster railway up the middle, but it never eventuated.

One of Doncaster’s great attractions remains Ruffey Lake Park – a 68-hectare park along its north-east edge, with waterways, wetlands, bushland and open space, playgrounds, and exercise stations. It is the breathing heart of Doncaster and Doncaster East, a wonderful place to just walk and chill out, away from our busy lives. At the end of the COVID-19 pandemic, as some restrictions eased, the park came alive with family gatherings (socially distanced) in the open air. It remains popular for kids’ parties, barbecues and the like. Not far to the north, Doncaster residents also enjoy Westerfolds Park, over 120 hectares of recreational and environmental parkland where you can picnic, cycle, canoe, jog and walk, along with spotting wildlife and birdwatching.

And in case you were wondering, Doncaster isn’t Donvale, a suburb to the east. There is some occasional confusion. Last year, Donvale Bowls Club was the recipient of a million-dollar bequest from a gentleman who was a lifelong member of Doncaster Bowls Club, and had visited Donvale just once. Was it a mistake? A deliberate snub? We will never know – a mystery of the rival Dons worthy of Agatha Christie.

Louise Kloot is a retired researcher and professor of accounting.

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