Picture a quiet pocket of the bay where pelicans drift overhead, footpaths wind alongside the creek past quirky backyard fences, and every second house still sports a Hills Hoist. It’s a place where the city skyline glows across the water, the tide laps at the rocks, and a neighbour might wave simply because that’s just what people do here.

It is the kind of suburb where you can feel the edge of the world and still get to the CBD in 25 minutes on the train. Its beauty isn’t loud or curated. It’s subtle and grounded.

If you blink on the train between Altona and Newport, you might miss Seaholme entirely. And honestly, that suits the residents just fine. Seaholme hums along quietly. Like it knows something you don’t.

I used to live in Altona but discovered Seaholme during drives to the local off-lead dog beach. I found a lovely rental listing and thought, “This is my chance!” Within days of moving in, I was scouting new walking trails and appreciating the trees cared for by residents on the nature strips. I came to realise I was calmer than I had been in years, simply by moving a few kilometres down the road.

Seaholme felt like the part of Melbourne I didn’t know I needed. The part that reminded me of what it’s like to slow down without stopping.

It is not shops or events, or nightlife that give this place its energy. It is rhythm. Mornings with dogs running wild at the beach. Afternoons with kids riding........

© The Age