Canberra: On Christmas Day (in the Morning)

If serenity and tranquillity are what you crave at Xmas, rather than the chaos of ringing cash registers and surging shopping crowds, you could do worse than hang around the Canberra city centre on the morning of Christmas Day itself.

We're in Australia's national capital to spend Xmas with my wife Narrelle's family, which includes a multitude of her nephews, nieces, brothers and her Mum, along with the various in-laws.

As we had time to kill before we met up with them on the 25th, we wandered the deserted streets of downtown Canberra City (formerly known as Civic) and took photos of architecture and street art.

Using images taken from Narrelle's iPhone, here's a quick tour:

1. The colonnade along the side of the Melbourne Building, whose facade has a vaguely Spanish Mission feel. This was one of the very first buildings erected in the new city in 1927, along with its mirror-image counterpart across the road, the Sydney Building.

On a wall inside the colonnade is interpretive signage which bears a pic of the building in 1927, then standing in open fields. Apparently people used to trap rabbits nearby at the time.

2. An old-fashioned mall called Petrie Plaza is nearby, and this is some of the art painted onto its concrete planters. Can you recognise any of these famous faces? (he said, feeling a bit clueless... though, er, I think that's Kylie Minogue on the lower right...)

3. Another fragment of the art. Note the clever juxtaposition of image and adjacent surface.

4. A merry-go-round (or carousel) in the middle of the Plaza; Narrelle tells me it's been there for ages, at least since she lived in Canberra in the 1980s.

5. This is a piece of street art entitled On the Staircase. According to the notation, the artist was reflecting on the notion: "The more I read, the smaller I feel". Interesting.

6. Fascinating pair of missile-like pieces of art further on. No signage to be seen, but it was fun trying to take photos of them without catching our own reflections.

7. Later in the day, we had Xmas dinner with the extended Harris family. The festivities concluded with the destruction of a piñata in the shape of Santa Claus. A little weird, but fun.

I love this photo of our niece Keziah - it looks like a publicity shot for a challenging new arthouse movie by a talented but edgy young director. Could be big at Cannes!

And with that, we come to the end of my 50th blog posting for 2010. I’m taking a short break, but will post again in mid-January 2011. See you then... and happy travels in the meantime!

This post was sponsored by HotelClub. Check out its site for deals on Canberra hotels, including hotels in the Canberra city centre.

Canberra: Worth Going to See?

"Worth seeing? Yes; but not worth going to see."

The words of 18th century wordsmith Samuel Johnson passed through my mind yesterday as I visited Gold Creek Village in the northern suburbs of Canberra. Johnson was talking about the Giant's Causeway in Ireland, a geological feature; while Gold Creek Village is about as artificial as you can get.

It's basically a tourist precinct containing several attractions and some fairly daggy shops. There are a couple of historic buildings, but otherwise the complex looks like it dropped in from about 1987.

You can tell I'm not a fan of attractions that seem to exist largely to give people something to do on a quiet Sunday - it doesn't speak well of the vibrancy of the city as a whole.

However... if you've already ticked off the big attractions in the national capital - the National Gallery, the National Museum, the National Bonsai Collection (not kidding) - then you could do worse than spend half a day visiting Gold Creek. Take a postmodern sense of irony with you, and you'll enjoy it even more.

A prehistoric display

Our first stop was the National Dinosaur Museum, a big barn of a building with a single floor of exhibits and a little shop below. The first thing you notice about the place is that it's not your modern hands-on hyper-interactive kind of facility. In fact it's a classic old-fashioned museum with lots of displays in glass cabinets, loads of text, and a number of big dinosaur replicas.

Having said that, once you knuckle down and start reading the text, it's a pretty interesting place. Rather than starting from the age of the dinosaurs, the chronological displays start from the dawn of time and proceed past the dinosaur extinction to the present day. There's a quirky little section on cryptozoology and claimed sightings of modern-day sabre tooth tigers near the end that makes a neat follow-up to all the big picture stuff.

The museum does have a small amount of hands-on options, eg fossils you can touch. The text is well written and accessible, and there's a wealth of info about the Australian aspect of each prehistoric age. Though you have to chuckle a little at quotes such as "By the end of the Carboniferous [era], Canberra... has become covered by the southern ice cap." And I thought the city was only founded in 1927.

The bottom line re the National Dinosaur Museum? Minimal bells and whistles but good content... will work best for those already interested in dinosaurs.

Little Englanders

A short walk took us to Cockington Green. It's hard to know what to make of this place on first glance... replica English village buildings in a garden setting in Australia's national capital screams "cultural cringe" when you first hear of it.

Interestingly though, the Green does display some departure from the traditional "Isn't it lovely" approach. The miniature buildings, mostly at 1/12 scale, are based on structures from different places in Old Blighty. Though the buildings are generally olde worlde types, the model people and vehicles around them are modern, with late-model cars parked next to Tudor cottages.

The modern elements added a touch of extra interest to our stroll through the grounds, including an electric train snaking through the countryside, and a streaker at a soccer match. It was about that this point that our senses of humour kicked in, and we started to speculate where the secret druids were, dragging sacrifices into the woods by night.

And then we rounded the corner to see a group of model policeman bending over a model body lying in greenery just near a clump of bushes. And further on we found the model Stonehenge, with a bunch of suspicious robed figures standing in the middle. Narrelle thought they looked like monks, but I thought they were druids. Up to no good.

And so it went, with us walking through the beautifully tended gardens past canal boats and castles, noticing little jokes (like the pervy golfer) or possibly imagining them (like the pervy golfer).

And then to the international section, full of replicas full of spectacular foreign buildings, sponsored by various embassies in Canberra (planning for a full-blown Australian section is also underway). Not as much scope there for humour, but plenty for the "Been There" game.

But that's a story for another day...

Next Week: The "Been There" Game!

The Unpublished 2: Squaring the Canberra Circle

This is the second example of a travel article that I've never been able to place. This time the focus is Australia's national capital...

The best view of Canberra is from the back of a departing train. – Bureaucrat Percy Deane, 1928

Like Percy, I’m not a Canberra person. I’ve always thought of Australia’s capital city as dull and contrived, an artificial place without surprises. But I’m here for a week on a business trip.

So I’m going to experiment, taking a leaf out of the Lonely Planet Guide to Experimental Travel, released in 2005. The book aims to liven up your travel by throwing in a random element or two. Following one of its experiments, I’ve taken a map of Canberra’s city centre, otherwise known as Civic, and drawn a square based on City Hill, cutting across the CBD’s hexagonal street patterns.

I’m going to follow the borders of that square as closely as possible, even if it leads me through buildings, to see what happens if you throw the guidebook away. Go on Canberra, surprise me!

West: From the midpoint of the northern border of my square, I cross Northbourne Avenue, the major thoroughfare leading north from the city. From here my line doesn’t run west along a street, but through buildings between two streets. But the Jolimont Tourist Centre offers a way through.

In the centre of the space sits a lady at a small tourist information desk. We discuss why the city centre is called Civic, when I haven’t seen a single sign with that name. On my map it’s called just “City”. I wonder if this is an attempt by the ACT Government to make the place sound bigger and more bustling.

I eat a sandwich on a weather-beaten bench in the adjoining bus station, with its pebble concrete surfaces. Its worn appearance makes me think more fondly of Canberra; I remember it being too clean and tidy, but now it’s a little tarnished and all the better for it.

As I cross Moore Street, on my left I can see the 1920s Melbourne Building, one of the oldest buildings in Civic. It’s a beautiful colonnaded square building with orange-brown tiles. There’s something vaguely Spanish about it today, and its graceful lines make it stand out among its neighbours.

Next is a fenced-off pre-school, quite empty. On the grass just outside it, I find surprise number one: a small plastic yellow helicopter with red rotors. I toss it back over the fence, like returning a fish out of water.

South: Turning at the north-west corner of my square, I pass the Street Theatre located on the edge of the Australian National University campus; it looks bit like a 1950s Railway Institute or an abandoned service station. A production called Wish You Were Her is showing, the poster featuring a photo of former Immigration Minister Amanda Vanstone. Possibly not a complimentary biographical work.

I have to cut through ANU’s School of Music. A student leans thoughtfully against a wall, holding a cello in its case. Then two excited guys run past me, one of them saying “You did it!” They disappear into a lift as I leave through a far door, clueless.

After navigating a tricky intersection and its traffic islands, I find myself on Marcus Clarke Drive. For an Australian history graduate, Canberra is a freaky place to be. Place names aren’t just names: the suburbs and streets constantly evoke past prime ministers and other famous Australians.

Then I’m confronted by surprise number two: a flying saucer. It’s a concrete building which whose exterior is a single vast dome surrounded by a moat, reaching right to the ground, with curved gaps for windows. It turns out to be the Shine Dome of the Australian Academy of Science. A sign on the door regrets that the building’s not open to inspection. I regret not being able to inspect it.

I realise I’ve veered way off my path; I need a GPS device, or at least a compass. Making a correction through a patch of bushland, I get my first glimpse of Lake Burley Griffin. It’s quite an expanse, and I can see Parliament House in the distance, flag flying. Nice view.

East: I walk past Rydges Hotel, and I can see the ACT flag flying from City Hill ahead and to the left. Back on track.

Crossing parkland between traffic feeder roads, I’m suddenly dive-bombed by surprise number three: two magpies. I’m crossing a completely open space, but the whooshing sound is quite distinct. I break into a half-run from this pair of small creatures, no doubt looking quite ridiculous to the passing drivers.

Having escaped, I look for the Olympic swimming pool, the south-east corner of my square. I pass a young guy sitting eating a rice dish out of a plastic container with chopsticks, wearing a baseball cap, next to a sign advertising a free solarium visit and massages.

I stick my head into the massage business. A guy with an eyebrow piercing comes out to serve me, and I get the chance to have a closer look at the dome over the pool. I’m surprised to realise it’s not a solid structure, but a huge inflated cover. It gives the impression of a huge marshmallow.

North: I pass the Casino Canberra. This part of town feels more businesslike. The buildings have colonnades, but otherwise they’re modern and featureless. There’s also a slick café with suited business folk, and a hairdressing salon called Shine (no relation to the concrete dome).

I should pass through buildings here, but I don’t fancy wandering through federal government offices in the current state of security paranoia. So I try heading up external stairs to the second level of the building. Here I discover surprise number four: a strange courtyard featuring faded and cracked hexagonal concrete shapes, and a cool bar called Toast. It’s salsa night tonight! I’m sensing that the fun parts of Canberra are often hidden away from the streets.

Then it’s past discounted Harry Potter books in Myer within the sprawling Canberra Centre shopping mall, and through the food court. It strikes me how young the passers-by are, and how that’s the case across Canberra. There’s something youthful and innocent about the city, and it’s quite appealing.

I leave the Canberra Centre for the City Markets. I don’t know if it’s ever been open-air in its past, as it looks fairly modern now. But you can push around a cart, visit different stalls and buy fresh meat, seafood, poultry, and so on. There’s lots of interesting stuff: fusili, polpettini, free-range duck eggs.

West: On my last leg I have to find another path between buildings. A small shopping arcade helps me out, and I pick up a local free paper on the way. Inside it, I read about a celebration being held by the Uruguayan Embassy and the Uruguay-Australia Association. It’s a reminder of how international this city is, no matter how much it feels like a big country town sometimes.

At last, I reach Garema Place. This is a cool pedestrian area, with cafes and restaurants, and finally there are people around. It feels a little shabbier, more unplanned than the neighbouring parts of the city centre. There are Chinese, Japanese and Indian restaurants, a number of cafes and a surprisingly cool upstairs bar called Hippo.

I like the atmosphere here, with people clustered together in the eateries’ lively outdoor areas; and I’m even pleased to see skateboarders. This is great: more noisy and more animated. Finally I’ve found a place which feels like it’s part of a thriving people-sized city.

It’s only a hop, skip and jump to my starting point from here, so I sink gratefully into an outdoor seat and order a macchiato. Looks like Canberra saved the best for last. And surprised me after all.

The Unpublished is a random series of my never-published travel articles. For previous instalments, click on the The Unpublished Topic tag below, then scroll down.