28.2.11 – Canberra

Woke to thunder and lightning, and torrential rain.  We are told this is a relief as the summer just past has been exceptionally hot and dry, causing plants to die and flowers to fall.  Because the weather forecast is poor, we change plans and head for Canberra instead of Sydney.  A longish drive follows, along straight grey highways, lined with gum trees and scrub, which eventually opens out into a vast area of grassland, a far off lake, distant hills on either side.  This is Lake George, a colossal plane that fills and empties of water at times and for reasons that no-one quite understands. 

National War Memorial

Canberra is a brand new city, built from scratch in 1912, to house politicians, and by the look of it to keep them well away from everybody else in the country – not a bad idea at that.  We stopped first of all at the tomb of the unknown soldier, housed at the heart of a complex designated as the national war memorial.  It’s arched entrance way faces the Parliament building at the other end of a massive avenue, past a lake and an elegant modern ornamental pool. Upstairs, in a type of modern cloister, the walls are lined with large brown brass plates, on which the names of the dead are etched in gold.  Row upon row of gilded names, plate upon plate – the dead of over a hundred years of battles remembered, and between each plate are tucked poppies.  These have been placed by families and friends in remembrance beside the name of the person they have lost.  There are thousands of them, like red tears running down the brass.  I had not realised how many conflicts the Australians had fought in, particularly several in which Britain was not involved – Korea and Vietnam to name only two.  The actual tomb was housed in a round building covered in art made of mosaic and rising to a massive cupola above the tomb of polished brown marble.  Below was a museum about the wars.

Ceremonial Hall

Entrance Hall, Parliament Building

Then the Parliament building.  It is impressive.  Square marble columns lead into a cool, airy entrance hall, whose high ceiling is supported by more tall columns oval this time, and of grey green marble with a stripe of pink down each side.  Most of the materials in this area originated in Europe and denote from where most of the settlers came.  Past the rich polished wood of the ceremonial hall, we then move to the two chambers – Representatives (the lower house) and Senate (higher house).  The ‘Reps’ were in session amidst their grey green furniture.  Very soothing, so much so that most of the members were not there.  Undeterred, one small dark haired chap was making a speech about tobacco advertising – quite an interesting speech – listened to intently by a bunch of foreign tourists, including us, and far less intently by the only five elected members (of a 150 potential) who had deigned to remain and who appeared to totally ignore him.  Two pairs were engaged in conversations in different parts of the house while the fifth was clearly using the time to catch up on her paperwork.  We moved to the red and pink of the Senate and this was much more exciting.  The Leader of the Green Party had just insulted the chair, and was being threatened with expulsion if he did not withdraw his cheeky remarks, which he refused point blank to do.  There was much heckling and shouted insults, and we waited agog to see what the results of the stand-off would be.  Eventually, some sort of a compromise was reached, he was not dragged screaming from the chamber and we left disappointed.  Politics everywhere is much the same, it seems.

Meg with typical Australian sheep

In a glass case outside is the apology given to the Aboriginal peoples by the Australian government for the forced removal of Aboriginal children from their families, which only stopped in 1970.  Also in the case was their response, and their gift – a curve of coloured glass, a shape familiar to Aboriginies, in which they cradle their babies.

The road home led past a very big sheep.  


In the twilight we passed the white trunks and silver grey leaves of the ghost gums and occasional notices warning of wombats on the road. And in the dark outside our room, tiny frogs kept up their electronic beeping, delighted no doubt by the downpour.