Under the Sun

Southland Times, Issue 22055, 30 June 1933, Page 5

Under the Sun

I Australian Scenes ; I

A Journalist on Tour

(By

I. G. G. M.)

THE TRAGEDY OF CANBERRA. Canberra, the Federal Capital of Australia, is well off the average tourist’s beat. It is miles away from a main railway line so that if the traveller wishes to reach the city at a reasonable hour he is forced to journey there from Sydney by an infrequent motor car service. Going to the city by pervice car on the way to Melbourne, one goes by way of the Hume Highway. A deviation, however, is made between Goulbum and Yass to allow the party to spend the night at the Federal Capital. The next day the car speeds on to Albury where another halt is made. Melbourne is reached on the third day. Dreary Country. The country from Sydney to Melbourne, by the Hume Highway _ route, is the dreariest in the world. Rain had not fallen for many months. The countryside was hard and brown, only the indispensable gums providing colour and variety. But the roads, broadly speaking, were excellent. In many places gangs of workers were preparing new surfaces, and, of course, the car lost much valuable time on this account. However, the stretches where these operations were not in progress were generally paved or were very smooth. It was difficult to realize what the miserable stock seen from the roadside were existing upon. Not a blade of grass could be seen. Yet upon this country it was stated many thousands of sheep were to be found. The houses, (or could they be called houses?) seen from the car were wretched beyond description. If Southlanders could see for themselves some of these places where rain is an all too infrequent guest, they would not curse so violently each time they reach for their mackintoshes. A Charming City. Canberra slipped into view about six hours after leaving Sydney. And what a surprise! In company with the rest of the Australian passengers in the car, I expected to see a few public servants’ houses, a shop or two and Parliament House standing amongst the scrub. Instead spacious wide highways lined with trees, beautiful modern residences completed in the American style, shops with green, ah wonderfully green! grass plots in front of them and Parliament House surrounded with gardens as fresh as a spring morning. My spirits Soared from the nadir of despondency to the zenith of enthusiasm. Incorporating the most modern ideas of town-planning and architecture, typified by its public buildings and hotels, with broad sweeps of boulevard and park, Canberra might become one of the garden cities of the world. As the result of a world-wide town-plan-ning competition, the design for Canberra of an American architect, Mr Walter Burley Griffin, was adopted. On the parched stock runs of yesterday, in territory set apart, Australia is building a capital city—some fondly hope a second Washington—in which to express her majesty and wealth. By night the city takes on a strange new beauty. Lights limn the road along which the car creeps, the trees stand tall and very still and not a sound breaks the silence. Canberra seems almost deserted. It is only now that one realizes what a tragedy the whole place is. An Isolated Town. For Canberra is a tragedy. No Australian met with differed from this view. Here is a city possessing suburbs, beautiful homes, shops, theatres, gardens and parks just for the use of those who wait upon the Federal Government. How can other people exist in this town? There are no industries to be found, the city is almost isolated, and it is set in the midst of country barren and useless. Canberra can never be a success. Let Senator Colebatch speak: The great calamity is that it can never operate successfully. It is isolated from those influences to which it should be close—the Press and public opinion. Ministers _ cannot spend the time they should in their departments, and in consequence Australia is losing good administration and good law-making. The position must inevitably be reviewed. The cost of building the place, the cost to run the place has never been justified. Canberra with its serene peaceful atmosphere was left behind warm with the Australian morning sun. A fellow passenger, attempted to sing a song about Gundagai, a village we would reach in about three hours, but I was tired of hearing about these prosperous Australian inland towns from my travelling companions and thought of New Zealand, a dominion where the rain falls and where the countryside is green, so deliciously green. (To be Continued.)