GIRLS’ TOUR

Southland Times, Issue 25308, 11 June 1935, Page 8

GIRLS’ TOUR

TWO SOOTHLANDERS SOME IMPRESSIONS OF AUSTRALIA SYDNEY AND MELBOURNE Australian cities, manners and cus.toms as reflected in the eyes of male New Zealanders who visit the Commonwealth are from time to time the subject of newspaper articles. Less frequently do women who cross the Tasman convey their impressions by the printed word; the reason perhaps being that they prefer to use the gift of speech.

Towards the end of March two Southland girls, Miss Jean Bisset, of Invercargill, and Miss Jessie McLeod, of Mandeville, set out on a trip to New South Wales and Victoria. Disdaining male escort on any occasion, they visited the capital cities, important inland centres and wide expanses of agricultural land; Karitane hospitals, schools, churches and shops. What they did and what they saw are narrated by Miss Bisset in this and a subsequent article , appearing in the Southland Times.

There is something fascinating about the departure of a passenger vessel 1 at night. A happy, excited crowd on the wharf,. the lighted hills of Wellington in the background, the joyous anticipation of a holiday in another country—these contribute to the glamour. V

But mundane matters soon supervene. A record number of passengers realize what a bad crossing means on the Tasman. It is a merciful Providence which decrees that long sleep accompanies seasickness. The temperature dropped steadily—or appeared to do so—as we left Wellington. The last day at sea was fine enough, however, and then we were in the famous harbour—that wonderful harbour. Granted we were not in the happiest of spirits but as we steamed up from the Heads; at any rate our impressions were not of great beauty. It was a dull day and wet. We passed the bridge—yes, it was a big bridge, but we had seen bridges before—and so to the dock. We sat on deck on this, our first morning in Sydney and watched it rain. How it rained! Then it thundered, and lightning flashed—and it rained. We sat and looked at Sydney, wrapped our shivering selves in our rugs and thought more about Sydney. Eventually the rain ceased—rather to our surprise. Having wended our way through dockland we duly “morning tead” at one of the show tea rooms. Our luck was still out! A children’s party was in uproarious progress. Even though now our first loathing of Sydney has become a liking, we still shudder at the ¥60011601100 of the bedlam. Doubtless all big cities are noisy, but the rattle of Sydney would take much beating. Flats Abound. But to happier things! Fleeing from the city—not the rattle even the trams are rowdy!—we went to Coogee by tram, having recovered sufficiently to take an interest in- our surroundings. The most striking point, to us, was the prevalence of flats, pile after pile of flats, new ones, old ones, old houses cut up into flats, small tiers and big ones. Eighteen flats in one building seem common. We found Coogee particularly interesting because of its sharknet. Accustomed as we were to bathing with no restrictions other than the horizon and one’s own discretion, we felt rather sympathetic regarding such a barrier in such wonderful surf. The surf is excellent on the Sydney beaches —one cannot wonder at their fame. Our opinion of Sydney' having risen somewhat, we returned to the boat for the 4 p.m sailing. Giving the devil his due—a thunderstorm in Australia is apparently brief—and by this time the day had cleared. Steaming down the harbour we conceded that the bridge was very big and that the harbour was quite attractive—in parts. Garden Island and Fort Dennison, for example, have a quaint charm of their own. Once on to the Tasman again the sky darkened, but fortunately the waters were calm. The smaller company and steadier sailing boded fair for an enjoyable week-end. That night we had the experience of watching and hearing “talkies” on deck to the accompaniment of flapping tarpaulins and the soft lap of the sea. There was something weird about a murder mystery, with the conventional haunted house etc., seen on deck on a dark night. Our good sailing was definitely “fair weather,” however, as on Sunday the sea became choppy again and prostrated most of the company rapidly. Early on Monday we reached Melbourne. Again it rained, gently persistent, but even so Melbourne appealed to us immediately. There was something about the wider streets, fewer skyscrapers and consequent less noise that attracted us at once. We had intended, of course, to do and see wonders on our trip and. of course, as any experienced traveller could have told us, didn’t do a fraction of the things we hoped. Our range was rather restricted also in that we were there for several holidays—Easter, Anzac Day and Jubilee Day. In as far as possible, however, we “did” the sights. Incidentally we were exceedingly pleased with ourselves that after one afternoon’s squiring we were able to find our way through the city alone. Melbourne is so easy to “grasp” that we could indulge our shopping propensities to the full. On various occasions we “did” the Zoo, which has a good Australian section, but which otherwise doesn’t compare with Sydney or Auckland; and the Art Gallery, which enthralled us so much that we wakened up at 3.30 p.m. to realize we had an afternoon tea engagement miles away! Ormond College. Ormond College interested us greatly and has a special memory as being the first place where we heard a laughing jackass actually laugh. Their laughter is so supremely insolent. Points of special interest that struck us were the dining hall, the library and the common room. In showing us the dining room Mrs Maclean (Professor Hector Maclean was formerly minister of Knox, Invercargill) remarked that it looked too like a chapel for a dining room. The roof and windows have a dignified beauty very chapellike. The actual chapel is smaller, but is beautifully- panelled—if I remember rightly with Australian woods. We saw so many marvellously polished and stained woods in Australia—sycamore, cherry, mulga—that we have become rather vague as to just where each was. The library doors of Ormond were another example of fine wood—massive . and dignified. The doors of the common room are also unusual in that they are memorial doors. It seems a particularly effective memorial to have the roll of honour actually on the door. Good Friday morning found us in St. Paul’s Cathedral. The cathedral has an excellent site right in the centre of the town, but as cathedrals go is not outstanding architecturally. The choir, however, especially in its Easter anthem, sang superbly. We mentioned tins later and learnt, not from a Melbournian, that this choir is often considered the best in the Southern Hemisphere. We could well believe it. That evening we heard “Elijah” given in the Town Hall. We were particularly fortunate in hearing Horace Stevens, who claims to be the greatest Elijah in the world in this part.

Australian Bush. Although the weather continued wet we had a delightful trip to the Dandenong Ranges. Throughout, the Australian mountains and rivers amused us, but diminutive as they are compared with ours they have a beauty of their own. This drive gave us our introduction to Australian bush which is much lighter than ours. The whole impression is that of much more lightpaler greens, less foliage and less density of growth. The undergrowth, of course—where there is undergrowth—is much scantier than ours. Perhaps that explains why Victorian bush anyway, smells differently from ours. This whole drive out of Melbourne through Sassafras and back through Fern Tree Gully showed us repeatedly the lovely spots of Melbourne’s near-by holiday'resorts. One felt quite envious of the hundreds of quaint little “cribs” perched here and there in the restful bush, some overlooking Port Phillip, some Western Port and others glimpsing one of Melbourne’s numerous reservoirs. We unwisely chose a Sunday afternoon to visit the Botanical Gardens and the Shrine, so had to view them with crowds. The shrine is, I should think, unique. The pictures of it are so numerous that it is mere reiteration to say that the style of architecture is Grecian and that it is set in large grounds. It is perhaps less known though that this memorial is visible from almost any part of the city, no small feat this when it is remembered that Melbourne is almost flat. Most of the main approaches to the city point towards the Shrine, which in its ouiet dignity, seemed to us to typify this southern city. The lighting of the Shrine is skilful, so that it stands out just as clearly at night, while the fountain donated by Sir MacPherson Robertson being illuminated with soft reds, makes the daintiest of pictures at the foot of the Shrine grounds. Walking from this memorial past Government House—such an official looking residence: —one comes to the Botanical Gardens. Some of the special attractions here are the Sunken Garden—a delightful rock garden in a miniature gorge with a short walk over a rustic bridge and through this tiny canyon—a tiled alcove under a conventional animal head which feeds a pool beneath where, to the huge delight of the children were frogs—and further on a small lake. The lake is a cool gem in a refreshing setting of typically Australian trees with a generous sprinkling of exotic plants. As in most of the reserves we visited, there is a plentitude of bird life. The Australian bird life impressed us ' immensely. The only respect in which that of New Zealand seems superior is in song—those of our birds that do sing do so, so sweetly. There is more sound in the Australian bush than the New Zealand, but we doubted if there was more melody. The colour of the birds there fascinated us. The amount of colour and the variety is almost incredible—brilliant reds, blues, yellows—indeed every imaginable colour. But the principal disappointment was in missing a lyre-bird—and a snake! We were most interested in the foliage in Australia. The gorgeous yellows of the golden ash and golden cypress, the reds of the crimson oak, make the gardens and reserves particularly colourful. The Fitzroy Gardens were even more beautiful than the Botanical, and as I remember them, had more colourful foliage. The Conservatory, when we were there, was radiant with a delicate mauve-pink flower. We learnt that this conservatory is always full of flowers of some kind, so. of course, the colour scheme varies. On the whole our impression of the Australian flora is that of more vivid colouring than ours. The dahlias were brilliant, but the Fitzroy Conservatory was full of solft delicate tones—almost fairy-like in their delicacy. A Fairy Tree. In these gardens there actually is a fairy tree. Miss Ola Bohn, A.R.C.A., has presented to the children of Melbourne, “The Fairies’ Tree.” On one of the old trees in this garden she has spent hour after hour carving fairy characters—goblins, elves, fairies, spider webs, kangaroos, every imaginable inhabitant of fairyland and Australian mythology. My friend, being a trained “Karitane,” was naturally interested in the progress of this work elsewhere. Our first glimpse of it was in the Tweddle Baby Home in Footscray, Melbourne. Tire home is named for the donor of the necessary building funds. We were privileged to meet Mr and Mrs Tweddle in person when we went to the British Music Society one evening. The baby home is, I understand, only one of the many philanthropies of this gifted couple. It was from them that we learnt the reason for the situation in one of the poorest parts of the city, the idea being to show just what can be done in the poorest areas. The buildings are dark-brown—l think of Western Australian jarrah—of one-storey, with the various units connected by verandahs. Covered verandahs surround the hospital and nurses’ home, giving the necessary protection from beat and glare. The whole atmosphere was very happy and healthy, and our reception most cordial. The interest in the New Zealand trainee was very keen and the oft-repeated, “Do you do things like this? How does this compare with yours?” said much for the enthusiasm of the infant welfare workers there.

From Melbourne we departed for a week to Healesville, a charming little health resort in the hills. We passed on the way Melba’s cottage—a greyish building hidden by hedges. It was at Healesville that we saw the Victorian bush to the greatest advantage. The township has about 2000 permanent inhabitants, but the 5000 or 6000 which were estimated to be there during Easter will indicate its popularity. The tree-covered hills which almost surround it are at all times pleasing, but in the early evening turn to a special shade of purple apparently caused by the dense foliage. On two occasions we drove up into those trills —once to “Femshawe” and again to Toolangi. The former is particularly interesting in that it is a reserve for the Maroondah Dam. Acres upon acres have been acquired in these hills to serve as a watershed for this picturesque reservoir for Melbourne. At one time a township was to be found away there in the hills, but the whole was dismantled for the benefit of the watershed; only a picnic ground remains beside the road. Passing through a stile another famous tree was pointed out to us. It had been planted by Queen Mary when she visited the spot as Duchess of York. The elements must have been kinder to her than to us, as she lunched nearby. We dodged mud in plenty as we examined the ravages of the recent floods. Toolangi lies amongst still other hills through which the car climbed round bend after bend, now presenting us with wonderful views, now showing us afresh the beauty of the parrots, parrakeets or magpies. After several miles one of the “sights” of Healesville appeared in the form of C. J. Dennis’s home. Set in large grounds, the house looked comfortable though unpretentious. One could easily imagine that the quiet peace of the spot would be conducive to writing. Visit to Sanctuary.

We struck heavy floods at this time so had the mild excitement of seeing the waters rise several feet. On the Yarra Flats they were some two feet over the raised road. On one of the few fine days accorded us there we went to the Sir Colin McKenzie Sanctuary. Unfortunately the floods had done heavy damage, but we had the exceptional good luck to see a platypus when it was feeding. This young one was some eighteen inches to two feet long. We thought it very like the pictures one sees—quite mud-coloured

without any relief. I gather that platypi and lyre-birds, are rather rare, and along with kookaburras and koalas are heavily protected. Most reserves there have the red-biiled black swan and ducks, but it was here that we came closest to kangaroos and wallabies, some of which were tame enough to eat from one’s hand. The bird section here was excellent and included a sulphur-crested cockatoo which spoke fluently. Here, as happened repeatedly, we were struck with the amount and diversity of colour in the birds. They honestly have to be seen to be believed.

(To be Continued.)