GIRLS’ TOUR

Southland Times, Issue 25310, 13 June 1935, Page 9

GIRLS’ TOUR

SOME IMPRESSIONS OF AUSTRALIA A CALL' AT BENDIGO This is the second article containing the impressions of two Southland girls, Miss Jean Bisset, Invercargill, and Miss Jessie McLeod, Mandeville,, gained during a tour of New South Wales and Victoria, Miss Bisset being the narrator. Bendigo was our next “port of call.” Situated about a hundred miles to the north-west of -the capital, Bendigo is much higher. Consequently the line climbs most of the way. The most noticeable feature from Kangaroo Flat, through Golden Square to Bendigo proper is the numerous “dumps.” The district is still largely goldmining—not the typical New Zealand alluvial mining but quartz-mining. These huge piles of waste are, while not picturesque, certainly unusual. Bendigo is bigger than Invercargill and I should think covers a much greater area—habitation spreads round rather aimlessly in all directions. In the centre of the city is an artificial lake, well used in summer by all and sundry for boating purposes. It is quite shallow so is a genuine source of amusement. As our hostess said, “What Nature doesn’t give us, we make ourselves.” The result was certainly creditable. How comforting to know that a capsize is only into, say, two feet of water! Bendigo also boasts one of the prettiest Presbyterian churches we saw. Apparently the Nonconformists in Australia are moving towards greater beauty in their places of worship, and St. Andrew’s, Bendigo, is one of the results. The white stone church, quiet woodwork and blue hangings combined dignity and beauty. On May 8 we paid a very sorrowful farewell to Melbourne and began our three days’ trip to Sydney. The Pioneer Tourist Bureau run two services to New South Wales, one on the Hume highway and the other the Prince’s Highway round the coast. For various reasons we did the Hume Highway. The floods having so damaged the roads we were unable to depart via Yarra Glen and Mt, Slide road. Instead we went out through North Melbourne, Kilmore and Seymour, joining the original route at Euroa where we lunched. Euroa is quite a small place, but impressed us, as mentioned before, like almost every town through which we passed, as pleasing, principally because of its tree-lined streets. That afternoon we continued north passing through Beualla and Wangaratta, both clean-looking, pleasant country towns. In one, I forget which, we saw several neat little cottages. There, the guide informed us, were Chiller homes, being established by a philanthropist of that name. The homes are let to old-age pensioners for an annual rental of one shilling, the reason for the nominal rental being that if no rent were charged, after a certain period the descendants of the renters could claim the home. My knowledge of Victorian law is exceedingly vague so I can’t vouch for this, but there is some such provision to retain the homes for the trust. The Kelly Country.

Between these two towns is the village of Glenrowan —the Kelly country. The whole bus sat up and took notice. A slight deviation was made to the famous inn site where the brothers made their last stand. Apparently the police eventually rounded the remnant of the gang into this inn and fired it. Justice was rough in those days! One member was killed, one escaped and Ned Kelly, attempting to escape in homemade armour, was shot in the leg—his only unprotected part. He was duly taken to Melbourne and hanged. One wonders why a stray bullet couldn’t have spared him his trial. We were told that the sister married in the district and that her descendants are still there. Consequently, as the Australians of the party told us with some care, one does not get out at Glenrowan and talk about the Kelly family. We were suitably silent. On the hills on one side they still point out Kelly’s “look-out” and on the other side Captain Morgan’s “watch tower.” The glamour, at least of the bushranging days, lingers long. An Enormous Dam. Possibly to compensate us for Melba’s Cottage we finished the first day by a deviation to the Hume-Ebden Weir. We did several things just a little from the usual route on our trip and this was one of the most interesting. Facts and figures were given us liberally, but about all we remembered were that the dam is the second largest in the world —exceeded only by the Assam on the Nile—that it is estimated to be holding three times the amount of water in the Sydney Harbour, and that the waters stretch back some twenty-five miles. It is as it sounds stupendous This enormous creamy coloured mass is almost overwhelming in its size. We can still see in the peculiar growth of the grass the outlines of the millions of bags of cement which were piled up on either side of the Murray for the foundations. When completed there will be a proper motor road over the top of the weir—as yet they are still working on the approaching road and the top of the weir itself. ; Bethanga Bridge. We drove slowly over the Murray, belching through the sluices, and so to New South Wales. Then, it being a beautiful evening and still early, we capped the wonderful day by going some miles up the river to the Bethanga Bridge. Skirting this artificial lake all the way, the whole party fell silent under the spell of the quiet beauty. A hundred yards or so before the bridge, a general exclamation stopped the car The bridge has foundations of the same creamy stone with a superstructure of grey metal. In the softening light and entire absence of wind the bridge was perfectly reflected in the quiet waters. One often says glibly, “the water was like a mirror’—but I, anyway have rarely seen it so. This particular evening, just for a few minutes, the reflection was perfect—there seemed to be two bridges, pictures in cream and grey. Across the water it was impossible to discern where the water stopped and the bank began. Slowly we crossed back to Victoria again, greatly interested in the tree tops showing above the water. How long they will live submerged is a moot point. Incidentally much of the terrific expense incurred in this dam was due to the price of the land and townships which had to be acquired before the waters covered them. We turned and crossed the bridge again and in that short time the perfection of the reflection had gone. The slight breeze responsible for it became cold, —our thoughts turned from Nature’s feast to a more sustaining one. We longed for Albury and dinner. As is well-known, Albury is the “border” town. Its companion on the other side of the river is Wadouga. The actual town of Albury is mainly flat, with wide streets, as always, treelined. The monument, however, is on a hill and is most outstanding, especially when floodlit at night. Here continuing in our desire to see the Australian infant welfare work we were fortunate enough to see the baby health centre. The equivalent apparently of our Women’s Divisions and Women’s Institutes in Australia (Victoria and New South Wales, anyway) is the Country Women’s Association. The C.W.A. does much good wark, and '

in this case had built the health centre, such a clean fragrant spot. The centre has the front of the building, with mothers’ waiting room, dispensary, nurses’ room, and kitchenette. Behind this are the C.W.A, meeting rooms. Pleasant, restful rooms, such a boon to tired women after their market day bustle. The piece de resistance here was a .passive desk bought and inscribed with money presented to the C.W.A. of Albury by the Dutch Government as part of its recognition for the assistance given to Parmentier and Moll. We gathered that the gratitude of Holland in this connection had rather surprised the Alburians. It says much for Australian sportsmanship that they regarded their action as quite ordinary. “The Road to Gundagai.”

’> From Albury the route follows “the e Road to Gundagai,” through mile after s mile of typically pastoral country. This e has a beauty of its own, but after a , t while, the low hills, more or less t rocky, according to the district, with J the all pervasive gums, become rather e monotonous. Ironically enough the best agricultural country was the least j interesting scenically. Gundagai proved e a quaint little town partly perched on a cliff. The day was glorious and the s lunch—they said, a masterpiece—carci sickness made the turkey only a rumour as far as I was concerned. Again courthouses of bushranging fame were e pointed out. Then the cemetery where 1 the bushranger and the policeman are r b iried close together. 3 So to the famous monument to the s pioneers! I should imagine that “The t Dog on the Tuckerbox” monument of - Gundagai is world known. There is v probably. some specific incident cons nected with it, but our guide’s story was as follows: In the early bullocking e days tlie tucker-box was a thing of great value and as such to be well guarded. Experience proving that the r dog was the best guard, the dog sat on i the tucker-box. This homely fact was s used in this fine monument to the t pioneers of Gundagai—a dog sitting on . a tucker-box. After duly photographing the dog, 1 we were off again, bound for Canr berra. The second day being the lonr ger journey we passed through Yass, j with the anticipated puns on the name, j in the twilight and came to Canberra s in the dark. * . Canberra. j The first surprise Canberra gave us i was its size.' The Federal capital I spreads seemingly for miles. Every- , thingis on a large scale, of course. The * hotels are huge ones, the Ainslie being j particularly well appointed. We had , been warned by several good Austra- - lians that Canberra was the easiest i place in the world in which to lose * oneself. We found it so, and but for a kindly motorist our party might have i still been looking for Canberra’s shop- ■ ping area. There are three of them—t the Civic Centre, Kingston and , Manuka. The whole conception of Canberra is : for the future. Ihere is never to be i any overcrowding—the entire area is J blocked out with ample accommoda- ■ tion for parks, gardens and reserves. ) They call it,. “The Garden City,” or I “The City of Flowers.” White elephant i it may be, but whatever its faults it is > a lovely city even minus the roses as ’ when we saw it. The Federal Parlia- ■ ment House, though said to be only , temporary, is a stately pile. The two 1 main chambers are after the style of those of Westminster, though naturally smaller. We had our hurried view of the principal spots prior to departing for Sydney on the Friday, but that did scant justice to the place. One needs at least a day. We did manage to rush through the Institute of Anatomy—a fascinating though surprising place. Unlike most of the buildings, this one was of grey stone instead of white, and looks aloof of even in a city which is dignity personified. Two of the churches in Canberra have a special interest. The very old Anglican, St. John the Baptist Church dates back to 1841, the claim in connection therewith being that it alone kept the name and locality of Canberra alive. The Presbyterian Church of grey stone rears an impressive spire over what is claimed to be the largest church of that denomination “south of the line.”

We were amused when, later, as we journeyed Sydneywards the guide pointed out Lake George. The Australians smiled. The six New Zealanders were enlightened. “When is a lake not a lake?” There was a lake there, shallow though it was. Gradually it disappeared. The powers that be discussed the matter —just what they decided for I forget—recreation ground or something similar. A slight earth tremor—and the lake reappeared! The why and wherefore we gathered are still unknown. On the shores of this lake we saw the first herd of black cattle since our arrival. Any cattle we had seen previously on that run had been of very mixed parentage—the dairying districts lying nearer the coast. Goulbum impressed us as a large, prosperous town, and like most biggish Australian towns with its full complement of church schools. Education in Victoria and New South Wales interesting us keenly, we noticed time and again the fine church schools throughout. We were given to understand that this is partly because originally the state paid little attention to secondary schools, so that the church had to provide it. The excellent state high schools are much newer. Berrima Gaol. That afternoon we viewed the most unhappy spot on the route—Berrima Gaol. The yellow stone building with the heavy gates looked ominous even before we entered. The whole was erected in five years from 1834—1839 by convicts in chains! We shudder smugly at the recorded horrors of the Spanish Inquisition and the Bastille ignorant that this accursed place, a scant century old, saw methods of the inquisition practised. I quote from the history of the prison: “They (the convicts building the prison) are fettered with heavy chains harassed with heavy work and fed on salt meat and coarse bread; their faces are awful to behold and their existence one of desperation.” The gaol itself is of three wings, two floors each making six corridors. The wings radiate from the central watch tower. The whole interior is dark and ill-lit—the floors are stone and consequently give the interior a continual chilliness. In summer the inmates had no bed covering—in winter two blankets. The doors are thick and heavy; the silence they give was intensified by the fact that all those inside had to wear felt boots. As though all this were not enough on the underground floor are three cells—the centre one being the dark cell. There unfortunates were confined with bread and water only twice a day. The terse comment, “Many men went out of their minds here,” is quite credible! The tale of the punishments, crucifixion, gagging and flogging (we saw the flogging post) made gruesome reading. Even during this century prisoners wore chains there. It is small comfort to know that the gaol was never used to its full capacity. One of the few lighter spots, occur in connection with its use as an internment camp during the war. It is 'said that some of the best brains in Australia were in Berrima during 1914—18 so it is greatly to the credit of New South Wales that this internment camp was a parole camp. Inmates had a two mile parole during the daytime only returning to the gaol to sleep. The lessee informed us that the only other parole camp in the world at the time was in Japan. A more attractive building is the old court house near the entrance. Its erection lasted from 1834 to 1838 The most notable point about this coijrt house is that it saw the first trial by

jury—a strange association; this proudly boasted modern justice hard by the spot where they flogged men till they bled and then washed their wounds with brine to stop the bleeding! The sky was darkening to suit our depression—so on to the last lap before Sydney. The country, became increasingly prosperous-looking, more varied and more closely settled. The last climb was over the Razorback Ranges—then suddenly away in the distance a glimmer on the horizon—the lights of Sydney. We were not left long in admiration of the scene, however. Sydney lifted up its voice and thundered—so again to Sydney in a thunderstorm. To be thus twice greeted by storms amused us immensely after the glowing pictures painted to us by Sydney folk of their wonderful weather.

(To be Continued.)