source : the age
Brisbane is on the march. Growing to the north, south and westwards. But there’s one side of the city where geography puts a stop to the sprawl, and that’s at Wynnum – the waters of Moreton Bay providing a natural barrier. Fifteen kilometres from Brisbane’s General Post Office, and the closest geographical coastline to the CBD, Wynnum is the point where Brisbane ends.
The number of times people remark on how “far away” Wynnum is has to do with the fact it feels a world away from the city, despite not being particularly far. Our three train stations (count ’em) can get you to Queen Street Mall in just 30 minutes. If you’re driving, the Gateway Bridge helps you access the northside quickly – as long as you’re happy to pay the tolls.
Not being originally from Brisbane, our radar did not even register Wynnum when we were looking to buy in 2016. Wilston, Nundah, Sandgate and Woolloongabba all made the shortlist, but the relative affordability of the bayside, plus the fact it was so different from everywhere else, made the choice easy.
The biggest asset is that five-kilometre waterfront, which stretches through to neighbouring Manly, and onward to Lota. I’ve always found the waterfront at Wynnum the superior section, with more parkland, more parking, and fewer crowds. That said, since COVID, it’s never felt more popular, with four-legged friends, run clubs pounding the pavements, and two-wheeled Lycra lieutenants descending en masse.
This tension between the suburb’s popularity and its growth and development while trying to retain the village-like atmosphere lies at the heart of resistance to Wynnum being gazetted as a Brisbane LGA future growth corridor. On this front, it’s easy to see the wheels are already in motion. Cookie-cutter apartment buildings seem to be going up as high as developers can get approval for, all so they can catch bay glimpses.
I’ve seen these changes close to home. My former neighbour, Joan, lived over the fence for more than 50 years before moving into aged care and passing away at 93. We saw her lovely home demolished and its 810-square-metre block subdivided. In its place are two oversized double-storey builds with name plaques like “Sol” slapped on. That’s progress eh?
So what lifestyle is threatened by those now-permitted 15-storey buildings?
For a start, the serenity of the waterfront. I’ve often swum in the calm waters of Pandanus Beach or Breakwater Park at high tide, and enjoyed not acting my age paddling in the Depression-era Wading Pool, a cherished local landmark.
Daily foreshore dog walks are a balm for my soul, and over the years I’ve had many up-close encounters with turtles, shovelnose rays, black swans, and even dolphins in the bay on glassy mornings. But while videos posted on the local Facebook page prove they’re out there, I’m still waiting for my dugong sighting. They are plastered on the Moreton Bay tourist drive road signs, so surely it’s only a matter of time.
What you’ll have no trouble seeing, though, is a gaggle of pelicans who have set up shop near the boat ramp looking for fish scraps. Speaking of fish, the best place for fish and chips is a hotly contested topic. For reference, the answer can only be Costa’s Seafood, formerly Finn’s Fish House, on the corner of Pine Street and the Esplanade.
Wynnum has many preserved historical buildings, making it easy to conceive of the place as its own town before it was absorbed into the Brisbane LGA. There’s a huge mix of housing, from traditional Queenslanders, postwar homes, and ’70s-era brick-and-tile oblongs. Now we are seeing McMansions, duplexes and, yes, more apartment buildings every time you look.
Wynnum comprises the distinct localities of Wynnum Central, the business district; Wynnum North, near the Port of Brisbane; and the area west of the train line, but not as far as Wynnum Plaza (which is actually in Wynnum West, a distinct suburb of its own).
Because of this, a certain clarification is often needed about where in Wynnum you live. More than a few times I’ve heard people say they live in Manly when in fact they’re in Wynnum, perhaps wishing to be associated with Manly’s perceived cachet, not the dagginess that sometimes attaches to Wynnum, which I’ve heard called “Logan by the Bay” (apologies to Logan).
As the suburb changes, I sometimes wish I could preserve some of that dagginess.
There are more op shops, real estate agents, hair salons and coffee shops along Bay Terrace than you can poke a stick at, and many old-school shopfronts are desperately in need of a lick of paint, a pressure clean, and a new awning.
But Wynnum, I’ll have you know, has something not many suburbs can boast: an actual downtown, with the bustling high streets of Bay Terrace and Edith Street.
There are wine bars, bookshops (plural), a six-cinema complex, and excellent restaurants. Pera Palace Ottoman is a frequently awarded Turkish diner, while celebrated neighbourhood bar Cedar & Pine always offers a good time.
Heck, we now have our very own Spiegeltent and annual Fringe festival.
There’s also theatre of the sporting kind, with the Wynnum Manly Seagulls rugby league club, the Wynnum Bugs rugby union outfit, pickleball and tennis courts, the golf course, croquet and lawn bowls. And that’s before you even mention the boating scene.
Perhaps for many, Wynnum’s charms have been long known, but the suburb has definitely grown up, with many more people now waking to beautiful sunrises over Moreton Bay. I just hope that as Wynnum marches upwards, it retains its soul (because “Sol” won’t cut it).
