ALOFT AND AWHEEL TO SEE THE SIGHTS

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23109, 6 August 1938, Page 1 (Supplement)

ALOFT AND AWHEEL TO SEE THE SIGHTS

By HILDA KEANE

CO gradually did she rise that we were over Sydney before we realised that the aeroplane had left the ground. Buildings became a mass of roofs ; roads streaked among them; everything fell into pattern. In a little while we looked down upon wild country, tree-covered in One uniform dull green, sinking, as if pressed by the thumb, into dents and hollows, rising and criss-cross-ing up from those hollows, showing never a peak. Then there was more open land with tiny dots that are trees scattered upon its surface; and every now and then an oasis of cultivated square appeared, or an insignificant collection of whitish matter that is a town.

How pitifully unimportant does man's work seem thrown down so casually on this immensity of untamed forest or unbroken plain! Those wisps of cloud that rest so motionless beneath our shining wings are much more real. We mount above them, pass through a sea of still, white pieces of cirrus, hoverin"- above Australia's wooded spaces. There is a sense of escape from man's puny assertion. Slowly, as it seems, we pass along a floor of soft massed cloud fleece. Above, shines the hot, hot sun, reflected again from the metal wing; below is the purely white cloudland; nothing else. We experience a feeling of unsullied exaltation. Modern "Magic Carpet ' "Morning tea?" asks the hostess, and hands to each passenger, sandwiches and the like, daintdy served. Refreshed, we look out again among the watching, broken clouds. That crazy ribbon far below is a road twisting'along the dark earth; a black snake, which is river, convolutes absurdly in a bare valley; a harbour appears shaped in arabesques; then strange opaquely-green lakes set in wide russet lands. The machine drops gently with cloud-islands all about us. Again wo become aware of the earth —dull, dead green. Then fields appear in bright tones of emerald; ploughed lands in chocolate, in purple, glow up from the surrounding monotony. Small lakes are there like serrated leaves, curiously yellow; winding creeks are inky blue; trees seem detached; there is smoke from unseen fire. "Please make your straps fasti" calls a voice through the amplifier. "Will you have a sweet?" asks the hostess at one's elbow. And miraculously we are on the ground. In a mere two and a-half hours, five hundred miles lie behind us. The modern "magic carpet" has transported its passengers to Queensland's capital We motored south from Brisbane on a cold, wet morning, glad of the bright poinsettias that held out their scarlet hands. Gardeners in the party were filled with envy for the gay hedges of red and pink bougainvillaea. We drove into plantations of sugar, of banana, of pineapple. There were sudden dips into forest edged with cypress-pine. These trees were rust-red with pollen at the time of our visit. Happy Travellers Long runs through pastoral land revealed pastures less green and sown with coarser grasses than the farm country of Auckland Province. Hills arose; the road corners were sharp and narrow; there was an absence of the many warning signs familiar to New,

From Sydney to Brisbane and Back

Zealand motorists. A collision narrowly averted brought nothing more than a laugh from our driver; a wave of the hand from the other car. There was no indication of narrow escape from accident. Men are happy over there. Our journey brought us to a succession of hill slopes, with plantation after plantation; then wo passed through wet country drained by many creeks. Names of country settlements attracted our attention. Service Paradise was all rain; South port and Coolangatta wero no better; Lismore had recently been flooded. But there was no doubt as to the prosperity of these dairying districts. We finished up the second day, still in rain, at Coff's Harbour, with accommodation at a surprisingly good hotel. Great Rivers Soon we came to the highway negotiating the series of great rivers which fill one with absolute admiration and surprise—the Manning, Clarence, Hastings and others. Most of them are tidal and all are handsomely bridged or capably ferried. The punt had a knack of leaving the shore as the car arrived, which meant half an hour's wait; but no fee was exacted for these crossings, which are often more than a mile wide. All the rivers were clear blue, in spite of the rains; they flowed swiftly, in great volume. The innumerable creeks —many of them were reallv rivers—had the queerest names: Hungry Head, Man Arm, Scrubby, Dirty, Peg Leg, Dnckhfle, Limeburners. Bo Bo and Old Bar among them.

From Grafton, with its beautiful avenues of jacaranda, we entered undulating country, pleasant to drive through. The woodland was open and with its floor of tufted grasses and

scattered bracken, resembled those English copses which break into bluebells under foot. The stumps of cut trees indicated what their size had been; they were large enough for very good kauri. Mills operate in these coastal areas; :i team of bullocks recalled pioneering days. The Pioneers

Wo passed Indians, tall handsome fellows, driving their own buggies; and once we drove through a small settlement of aborigines, an occasional man glancing across from his shack at the car. On the third day wo lunched at Port j\laccjuarie, a most restful sea resort wit]i a church dating from the beginning of last century. Its brick walls and square lioor tiles were made from the surrounding red earth. High pews of polished cedar still hold the worshippers, as they did when pioneer settlers walked up the aisle with their assigned servants. Tablets memorialising men who died, full of years and with large families, line the walls. Over Port Macquarie lies peace; not one person did we .meet in the streets. That night tfas spent at Taree, and over its river wo went next morning toward Newcastle —grey and busy with its coalmines and steel works. Another ferry trip was taken and then a long run through tree-covered hills into French's Forest. After that the road led down to the lovely Hawkesbury River, wide and silver shining at the day's close.

So we came again to the crisp air of Horn,sbv and # through the bright modern suburbs which lead at last to the Harbour Bridge of Sydney. This was empty but for ono tramcar; wo drove over it slowly, seeking through its intricacies of steel girder and soaring arch, tlio changing skyline of the lighted city. There was quiet in Martin Place; Sydney was dining; the usual hurry was over for a while. It was difficult to believe that the journey was finished; moro difficult still to realise that what we had just accomplished in four days, had, a week previously, been covered by a silver air-liner, carrying twenty-four passengers, in a mere two and a-half hours.