Altona house abandoned, Melbourne

 

I am planning to post a series of abandoned urbex photos around Melbourne. It is not everyone's cup of tea; it is something to document my journey in this genre. 

Sony A7RIV

Laowa 9mm f5.6 

This is linking to Sunday Best

Abandoned in Castlemaine

Abandoned in Clifton Hill, Melbourne

 

One of my pals lived in this burb. We get our expresso in a cafe not far from this location every weekend.

Sony A7RIV

Laowa 9mm f5.6

Check our the abandoned Abandoned posts

Quambatook Abandoned Woolshed

 

The rustic and abandoned signs left inside a woolshed in Quambatook Vic

Sony A7RIV

Laowa 9mm f5.6

Linking Signs2

My corner of the world

Rapid Bay Cove South Australia for Water H2O Thursday

 

Joel and I already finished the trip in SA. It was nice and sweet.

Rapid Bay is such a gem. We actually went into a cave near that coast. It was rather fun. 

Rapid Bay is a perfect blend of natural wonders, with its azure waters, sandy beaches, and towering cliffs creating a picturesque landscape. Whether you’re an avid photographer or simply someone who enjoys a peaceful retreat, the area offers ample opportunities for exploration. The shallow waters of the bay are home to a rich marine ecosystem, making it a popular spot for snorkelers and divers eager to see the diverse underwater life. It’s also a great spot for swimming and relaxing on the beach while soaking in the tranquil atmosphere.

Surrounded by the dramatic hills of the peninsula, the bay is a haven for wildlife. The surrounding hills and cliffs provide an excellent backdrop for those keen on walking or hiking, with panoramic views of the surrounding coastline stretching all the way to the horizon.

The most striking feature of Rapid Bay is its abandoned mine and jetty, remnants of the area’s industrial past. The Rapid Bay Jetty, once a bustling port, was originally built in the late 1800s to support the mining and export of limestone, a key resource for cement production. The jetty itself, with its weathered planks and rusting metal supports, now stands as a haunting reminder of a time long past. Once a vital lifeline for shipping limestone to Adelaide, the jetty is now a quiet monument to the region’s industrial heritage.

The abandoned mine at Rapid Bay has an equally intriguing history. The mine, which operated primarily during the 20th century, extracted limestone from the surrounding cliffs. The industry that flourished here brought life to the small town of Rapid Bay, but over time, it waned, and the mine was eventually closed. Today, the old mine site and its remnants offer a glimpse into the hard work and ingenuity that defined the area’s past.

For those with an interest in history or industrial archeology, the mine and jetty provide a fascinating look into the once-thriving limestone industry. The juxtaposition of natural beauty with the eerie, forgotten structures of the mine makes for a truly unique and memorable visit.

Linking Water H2O Thursday

We were in a secret cellar enjoying the drink

Mural at an abandoned beach resort

 

The once grand mosaic mural, now decayed and abandoned, was, I believe, a vast composition depicting various landmarks of Taipei.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

I have returned to diligently addressing the backlog of delayed referrals from last week, and the effort is certainly taking its toll. Over the weekend, Joel was unable to join the planned trip to Pinnacles, having discovered at the last moment that he had a prior commitment to a family dinner. In his absence, I devoted my time to attending to a rather tedious volume of paperwork.

Metcalfe Abandoned transport for Sunday

 

Abandoned cars under the Milkyway - Part of the reason for rural charm here

Merry Christmas to all my happy blogger family! I am working continuously on call for 3rd consecutive days so far. Another 9 days to go. 

Sony A7RIV

16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Sunday Best

Abandoned Sign for Sign2

 

On my drive to Port Fairy Victoria. 

More of an abandoned scene

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4

Linking Sign2

Metcalfe Abandoned Bus for Sky Watch Friday

 

Metcalfe Abandoned bus is sitting there for a long time 

Sony A7RV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Sky Watch Friday

Murray Bridge South Australia for Skywatch Friday

 

When I was last in South Australia, Joel and I found ourselves in Murray Bridge, where the river widens and the wind seems to carry the sediment of old industry in its breath. The town sits astride the slow, muscular sweep of the Murray River, and it was here that iron once declared its confidence over water.

The abandoned railway bridge stands slightly apart from the living traffic of the newer crossings — a relic of rivets and lattice girders, its trusses fretted with rust the colour of dried blood. Built in 1886 as part of the Adelaide–Melbourne line, it was engineered as a combined road and rail bridge, an economy of ambition typical of a colony still counting its resources. Trains once rattled across its single track while carts and early motorcars edged cautiously beside them, the river moving beneath as it had for millennia, indifferent to steel.

For decades, the bridge served as a vital artery linking South Australia to the eastern colonies, a pragmatic monument to federation before Federation was formalised. Steam locomotives hauled wheat, wool, and passengers across its span; their smoke drifted over the river flats, settling into the reeds. But engineering advances and heavier rolling stock rendered its narrow gauge and structural limits obsolete. By 1925, a new railway bridge had been constructed nearby, purpose-built and sturdier, and the old bridge was relieved of its burden. The road was eventually diverted as well, leaving the structure suspended in a kind of architectural afterlife.

Now it rests in a slow surrender to oxidation. Bolts bloom with corrosion; girders hold their geometry but not their sheen. The timber decking has long since been stripped away, exposing the skeletal logic of nineteenth-century engineering — all tension and compression, triangles and trust. Grass pushes through the approach embankments where locomotives once screamed. The adjacent abandoned roads lead nowhere in particular, their bitumen cracked into continental plates, edges feathered by dust and saltbush.

Standing there with Joel, we felt the peculiar hush that gathers around obsolete infrastructure. These are not ruins of empire in the classical sense; they are the remains of logistics — wheat routes, stock movements, passenger timetables — the prosaic mechanics of settlement. Yet in their abandonment they acquire something like dignity. The river keeps flowing. The newer bridges carry B-doubles and commuter traffic. And the old railway bridge, rusted but uncollapsed, persists as a diagram of intent — a testament to a moment when steel first dared to stride across the Murray and bind distant towns into a single, imagined whole.

DJ Mini Pro4

Linking Skywatch Friday

Abandoned Gold Mining Equipment in Forest Creek, Castlemaine

 

After seeing some blogger friends posting on mining equipment, I took quite a few abandoned in the wilderness in Loddon Region of Victoria.

Seriously, this shall be protected in a shelter of some sort instead of being left out in the wilderness.

Sony A7RIV

Laowa 9mm f5.6

Castlemaine photos

Abandoned Holden Car for Treasure Tuesday

 

After a busy day, I feel so unmotivated to do my daily walk in the park. 

Sony A7RIV

FE 24mm f1.4 GM

For a while, I had an obsession to photograph old, abandoned car. Kind of treasures for Treasure Tuesday

Abandoned Holden Cars in Metcalfe Victoria for Black and white community

 

Metcalfe sits in a quiet fold of central Victoria, where the land loosens into low, weathered rises and dry gullies that remember older climates. It is not a town that announces itself; it accumulates—stone fences softened by lichen, stringybark and grey box eucalypts scattered in hesitant clusters, and paddocks that widen and narrow as if the earth itself cannot decide on straight lines.

This is country shaped by gold and forgetting. In the nineteenth century, prospectors moved through here on their way to richer strikes around Castlemaine and Daylesford, carving tracks that later became the faint grammar of today’s roads. Metcalfe never became a city of consequence; it became instead a relay point of aspiration—enough water in the Coliban River system to tempt settlement, enough soil for grazing, and enough timber to briefly feed the furnaces of early industry. When the gold faded, the population loosened its grip on the land, leaving behind a geography of partial occupation: farmhouses at distance, sheds leaning into wind, and long pauses between human signatures.

The hills around it are not dramatic so much as persistent. They roll with an understated patience, stitched together by dry stone walls and creek lines that only fully speak after rain. In summer, the heat compresses everything into a pale hush; in winter, mist settles in the gullies like an old memory refusing to leave.

And then there are the Holdens.

They appear in fragments rather than as objects of arrival—rusted shells half-swallowed by blackberries, utes resting in creek beds like exhausted animals, sedans stripped of glass and identity, their chrome reduced to dull punctuation. In Metcalfe and its surrounding backroads, these abandoned Australian icons seem less discarded than gently returned to the landscape. The Holden, once the emblem of postwar optimism and suburban expansion, here becomes something different: a study in entropy, in how national mythologies rust when left unattended.

There is an almost quiet obsession in the way they persist. Some sit for decades in the same angle of repose, bonnet slightly open as if mid-thought. Others are reduced to skeletal outlines—door frames, axle lines, the suggestion of a grille. Grass grows through floor pans; saplings root in back seats. In gullies, water occasionally reclaims them, polishing paint into mineral memory.

Locals and passersby speak of them indirectly, as if direct acknowledgment might disturb their slow transformation. They are landmarks of a kind, but not navigational ones—more like emotional markers of what remains when utility, pride, and ownership have all dissolved into the same rust-colored quiet.

So Metcalfe becomes a composite landscape: geological patience, colonial residue, agricultural pause, and automotive decay. A place where trees gather in small conspiratorial clusters, where roads taper into suggestion, and where even the most manufactured symbols of mobility eventually learn stillness.

Sony A7RV

FE 24mm f1.4 GM

Linking Black and white community

Abandoned Bradmill Factory, Yarraville, Melbourne for Treasure Tuesday

 

The Bradmill factory, located in Yarraville, Melbourne, has a storied history that spans over seven decades. Established in 1927 as Bradford Cotton Mills in Sydney, the company expanded its operations to Victoria in 19402. By the late 1950s, a new factory was built on Francis Street in Yarraville, and the company rebranded as Bradmill.

At its peak, Bradmill was the largest producer of textiles in Australia, known for its innovative denim production. The factory produced an astounding 36 million square meters of cotton denim annually, enough to wrap the globe. Bradmill's products were renowned for their durability and strength, finding their way into various products, from fire hoses and deck chairs to tents and tarpaulins.

The factory was a hub of ceaseless activity, employing thousands of workers and integrating cutting-edge technologies. Despite facing challenges such as increased competition and inflation in the 1980s, Bradmill thrived on innovation. The company ventured into new export markets and developed pioneering products, attracting global attention.

Bradmill's success was not just due to its technological advancements but also its inclusive and vibrant community. The factory employed a diverse workforce of over 30 nationalities, fostering a culture of unity and warmth. Employees shared lunches, participated in music, sports, and outings, creating cherished memories and lifelong friendships.

However, the rise of global competition and changing market dynamics eventually led to the factory's closure in 2001. Despite its closure, the legacy of Bradmill lives on through urban explorers, artists, and reunions that keep its spirit alive. The site has now been transformed into a new community, Bradmill Yarraville, built on the foundations of this iconic Australian institution.

The Bradmill factory's history is a testament to the power of innovation, community, and resilience. It remains a cherished part of Melbourne's industrial heritage, inspiring future generations with its story of excellence and togetherness.

Sony A7RV

Laowa 9mm f5.6

Linking Treasure Tuesday

The rest of the photographs are in this album Abandoned Bradmill

After enduring several hectic days at the clinic, Joel, too, faced a particularly challenging Monday. Consequently, we engaged in an extended conversation before retiring for the night, which proved to be an excellent opportunity to alleviate our frustrations.

Abandoned Papermill Factory in Fairfield, Melbourne for Treasure Tuesday

 

The Rise and Fall of the Fairfield Paper Mill: A Forgotten Industrial Giant in Melbourne

Situated in the northeastern suburb of Alphington—often associated with Fairfield—the abandoned paper mill stands as a silent monument to Melbourne’s industrial past. Officially known as the Alphington Paper Mill, this sprawling site once played a crucial role in Australia’s paper manufacturing industry. From its establishment in the early 20th century to its eventual decline and transformation, the paper mill reflects both the city’s economic evolution and the changing values of urban development.

Foundations of Industry

The origins of the Alphington Paper Mill date back to August 1918, when Australian Paper Manufacturers (APM) acquired a tract of land known as “Woodlands” in Alphington. Over the next two years, approximately 1.2 million bricks were laid to construct the facility, and in 1921, the mill officially opened its doors. It quickly became a centerpiece of industrial productivity, marking a new chapter in Australia’s ability to produce paper on a large scale.

The facility saw significant expansion in the 1930s. Notable developments included the installation of a 15-ton turbogenerator in 1932, which provided much-needed power to support growing operations. Additional investments in 1937 further solidified the mill’s position as a leader in Australian manufacturing. A particularly distinctive architectural addition came in 1954 with the construction of the Boiler House, designed by Mussen, Mackay, and Potter. Its curtain wall design was among the first of its kind in Melbourne, symbolizing a new era of modern industrial architecture.

Operations and Community Impact

The paper mill’s influence extended far beyond its towering structures. A dedicated railway siding—known as the APM Siding—was established in 1919, connecting the mill to regional and national rail networks. Coal was delivered daily to fuel the facility’s massive boilers, and finished paper products were efficiently shipped out, supporting industries and consumers across the country.

For decades, the mill provided stable employment for hundreds of local residents, embedding itself into the economic and social fabric of the Alphington and Fairfield communities. Families grew up around the hum of the mill’s machines, and its presence shaped the daily rhythms of life in the area.

Closure and Redevelopment

However, the new millennium brought with it winds of change. In 2008, Amcor—APM’s successor—announced plans to close the mill as part of a strategy to consolidate manufacturing operations in Sydney. The announcement marked the end of an era and signaled a significant loss for the local workforce, with around 90 employees affected by the closure.

Paper and board production ceased by 2012, and in 2013, the site was sold to a consortium of developers. Plans were set in motion to transform the disused industrial complex into a vibrant residential and commercial precinct. Today, the redevelopment envisions a mix of housing, shops, office spaces, and community facilities—an urban village rising from the mill’s industrial bones.

Heritage, Memory, and the Future

Despite its cultural and architectural significance, the Fairfield Paper Mill has not been immune to the pressures of modern development. Heritage advocates pushed to preserve structures like the Boiler House, but in 2017, the decision was made not to grant it official protection. The building was ultimately demolished, making way for new construction.

Still, the legacy of the Alphington Paper Mill lives on. For older residents, it remains a symbol of Melbourne’s industrious past. For newer generations, it serves as a case study in the balance between preservation and progress. While the physical remnants of the mill may have faded, its story continues to shape the character of the community and the land it once occupied.

Sony A7RV

FE 14mm f1.8 GM

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Abandoned jetty at Rapid Bay for Water H2O Thursday

 

Rapid Bay's jetty was originally constructed in 1942 to facilitate limestone mining operations. However, as the years passed and industrial needs changed, the once bustling jetty was abandoned in favor of a newer, more modern structure. Today, it stands as a hauntingly beautiful relic of the past, with its skeletal remains stretching out into the turquoise waters of the bay.

This forgotten jetty has become a magnet for those seeking adventure off the beaten path. Divers flock to its underwater world, where schools of fish, colorful coral, and sometimes even the elusive leafy sea dragon can be spotted amidst the submerged pylons. For photographers, the jetty offers an endless canvas of rustic beauty. Each visit reveals a different facet, from the play of light and shadows to the dramatic backdrop of rolling waves and sunsets that paint the sky in hues of orange and pink.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Abandoned papermill, Fairfield

 

This stair was actually quite wobbly to climb. The whole suburb is now turned into apartment complex. There was an abandoned mental health facility that was now demolished turning into an estate of some sorts.

Sony A7RIV

FE 14mm f1.8 GM

Sony is releasing A7RV for which I already place a pre-order. Can't wait to have the new toy to come!

This is linking Imagin-ing

Abandoned Gold fields, Castlemaine, Victoria

 

Castlemaine is now a hub for the alternative and the yabbies. The town is surrounded by abandoned goldfield equipment leaving them to rust and decay. 

Sony A7RIV

Laowa 9mm f5.6

This is linking Sunday Best

Steinglitz Victoria for Sunday Best

 

Steiglitz turned out to be far less exciting than the internet promised. Joel and I had made the journey because of a flood of viral videos proclaiming it Victoria’s most haunted town, a forgotten settlement steeped in ghost stories and restless spirits. Expectations rose with every kilometre of dusty road. Reality, however, arrived in silence.

The three photographs were taken around the old courthouse, the focal point of much of Steiglitz's folklore. Yet the building was closed, its doors locked against both visitors and curiosity. We wandered the empty grounds searching for traces of the stories that had drawn us there, but found little more than stillness. The town seemed reluctant to surrender its legends in the harsh light of day.

Steiglitz was once a thriving gold-rush settlement in the 1850s, when thousands flocked to the area chasing fortunes buried beneath the hills. What remains today is a small collection of weathered buildings scattered across a landscape that has long since been reclaimed by nature. The prosperity vanished almost as quickly as it arrived, leaving behind a ghost town in the truest historical sense rather than the supernatural one.

Despite the disappointment, there was an atmosphere that lingered. The courthouse sat beneath ancient trees whose twisted limbs clawed at the sky. Their trunks were knotted and contorted, as though decades of wind and drought had sculpted them into strange living monuments. In the afternoon light they appeared merely old; but one could easily imagine how they would transform after sunset. Their shadows would lengthen across the empty ground, their branches becoming skeletal fingers reaching through the darkness.

Perhaps that is where Steiglitz earns its haunted reputation. Not through apparitions or dramatic tales, but through absence. The abandoned buildings, the silence where a bustling goldfield once stood, and the gnarled trees that seem to ooze a dark and watchful presence all combine to create a place that feels suspended between eras. By day it was, frankly, rather dull. Yet standing among those twisted trees, it was not difficult to picture how the town might become something altogether more unsettling when night finally settled over the valley.

Sony A7RV

Sigma 14-24mm f2.8 

Linking Sunday Best

Easey Street Tram restaurants

 

On Thursday last week, I took cameras to camera clinic for infra-red modification. Joel was meant to do this a few months ago. He procrastinates too much. So I do it for us instead.

Next to the shop, this iconic restaurant that comprised of 3 abandoned trams were standing right there before me. I happened to have my new toy sigma 24mm f3.5 pancake. So I was snapping away like my fingers having spasms. 

Sony A7RV

Sigma 24mm f3.5

Linking Randomosity

Springvale Lunar New Year Parade (small one) for Treasure Tuesday

 

Early one morning, I accompanied my mother to shop in Springvale. Although I did not intend to participate in any Lunar New Year celebrations, the convenience of the visit made it inevitable. Interestingly, it seems that most of the parades are now organised by Australians. It appears that many Chinese individuals have integrated so thoroughly into Australian society that they have abandoned the cultural heritage they once cherished in which it includes me lol. 

In my youth, I participated in traditional dragon dances, visiting various shops to collect red packets. If a shop owner was hesitant to offer one, I, along with the band, would persist, briefly disrupting their business until they obliged.

Too much energy in the morning. A long day to go!

I enjoyed Vietnamese Pho weekly. 

Sony A7RV

Sigma 17mm f4 

Linking Treasure Tuesday