For most Melburnians, the city remains a safe place. But there are certain hot spots that are menacing, and even locals try to stay away.
ON THURSDAY, media in tow, police searched commuters at Footscray railway station, the first time they had used their new powers to designate an area and search anyone for weapons without a warrant. They found 12 weapons, including knives and a machete. Commuters did not complain, most saying they were pleased that police were doing something about an area that rarely felt safe.
A few hours later, The Sunday Age visited the station. There was no security, and things were back to normal. On platform four, two men argued and swore at each other so aggressively that other travellers were fearful. ''I don't want to get beaten up,'' one woman whispered.
Another commuter, Lauren Sarti, 38, from West Footscray, had just scampered to the other end of the platform where a drug deal had been under way. She said drug deals, particularly for heroin, were often completed at the station.
''They are done so quickly. The dealers aren't from here. They quickly get back on a train and leave,'' she said.
''I've seen it all,'' said William, 71, who declined to give his surname. He believed most assaults were related to drug deals.
''The other problem,'' he said, ''is people aren't working, they don't have money to eat. They try and grab elderly people to get $10 or $20 off them.''
Redevelopment of the station has begun as part of the State Government's plan to turn it into a key ''transit city'' for the western suburbs and commuters hope safety and security measures will improve when the project is complete.
Seven years ago, Melbourne was rated the world's most liveable city by the Economist Intelligence Unit. This year the city is ranked No. 3. In other surveys, Melbourne is no longer in the top 10, and a rise in assaults is partly to blame.
Most embarrassing, this week India threatened to issue a travel warning on the basis that Australia in general, but Melbourne in particular, is a hotbed of street violence.
The City of Maribyrnong - including West Footscray, where Indian student Nitin Garg was stabbed to death last Monday - has had a 20 per cent rise in assaults in the past year.
This does not make every street in Footscray high-risk. But there are some places - the station at Footscray, pubs at certain times in certain suburbs, some railway stations after dark, or just street corners in the CBD, where even locals prefer not to linger. Some have high rates of assaults; others just feel menacing. Apart from Footscray railway station, there is Dandenong railway station, where people do not feel safe at night.
The area outside convenience stores in Elizabeth Street and Flinders Street in the CBD is notorious - last weekend, three police were injured (two were bitten and one seriously hurt his knee) when attacked by a man at a Flinders Street convenience store.
The nightclub strip along Chapel Street is another, a place where increasing trouble contributed to an 18 per cent rise in assaults in the City of Stonnington last year. Locals and police also identify the pub and nightclub strip along the Nepean Highway in Frankston, where one club has introduced a metal detector and all patrons are searched for weapons on entry.
In Frankston, Nick and Tony, from the all-night Nepean Souvlaki Bar, have a perfect view of the trouble when it breaks out from the Pier or Davey's nightclubs across the road - usually a spilling on to the street of young men ''belting the hell out of each other''.
Nick, who declined to give his surname, said the ''worst thing is to see these young boys lying in the middle of the highway, with their heads smashed in, blood everywhere. Every Friday night, it gets out of hand.''
Tony, who has run the souvlaki bar for 18 years, says most of the trouble is between boys who know each other. ''It's just the local kids. One week, they'll beat up one of their own … and the next week it's someone else.''
Nick and Tony, along with other locals, say part of the problem is that the nightclub strip concentrates the local young people into a small volatile area. ''Once one fight breaks out, others break out too,'' says Nick.
Frankston has a reputation as a blue-collar belt, but this is no longer true. There is a university crowd, plus young white-collar workers who blow off the weekly commuting with hard partying. On Friday night, we met four well-spoken young people in their 20s, wandering the street, stubbies of beer in hand.
''Yeah, drinking in the street is probably under-policed,'' says one of the men, 25. ''It probably doesn't help things.'' Both men in the group said they had narrowly avoided being drawn into fights over the past two years.
Dandenong railway station has long been identified by police and locals as ''unsavoury''. Assaults rose 30.8 per cent in Greater Dandenong last year, although local inspector Charlie Allen said this was partly because more domestic violence was being reported. He said a beefed-up police presence under the ''safe stations'' program had helped to reduce crime at the Dandenong station.
But many people don't feel safe. It's 8 o'clock on Thursday evening, the sun hasn't gone down, and the six boys on the overpass know they are scaring people with their kung-fu moves, scowling faces and gangsta bandannas. Aged 16 to 19, of Samoan and Maori extraction, they make a corridor of threat at the station entrance and it's all for fun. When a train arrives, they smile broadly as the commuters hurry past, tight-faced and looking straight ahead.
One of the boys says he's on a court order to stay away from the station because of assaults he's carried out in the past. Another talks of ''so many stabbings'' he's done and now regrets.
A drunk man gets their attention, causes some offence - and all but one of the boys disappear into the station proper. One of them punches the drunk, leaving a red mark on the man's cheek.
Why did they hit the man? One of them laughs: ''He called us out. He's with the Crips.'' But he's making fun of the situation. His friends giggle and jostle - it's all a game.
Suddenly, the drunk calls out something and the boys begin to chant: ''One on one. One on one.''
Soon after, another man, a friend of the drunk, comes halfway along the overpass. He wants to know if the group will accept an apology. ''He wants to say sorry. Can he come out now?''
The boys laugh, make noises. They tell me they won't attack the man if he comes down, but they want to keep him scared.
They say that later in the evening, a Sudanese gang will turn up and take over the scene. ''They're worse than us.''
Down below, the taxi queue shifts along like a factory conveyor belt. Cabbie Sandeep says most of his fares are for trips 100 or 200 metres from the station. ''Because people don't want to walk, even if they only live a couple of streets away.''
There's more to say about stabbings and police and drunken gang brawls, but he has to leave with a customer. When asked for his mobile number, he says, ''Oh, don't worry. I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm never more than five minutes away from here. If anyone has to travel a long distance they take the bus. We make our money from the people who live a walking distance from the station.''