A late-ish start, the alarm was general commotion based. I've never liked caravans, something to do with the explicitly plasticy unreal homeness, there's never any wood, only thin veneer. In this case it was that nasty dark brown veneer where they've drilled a groove at four inch intervals as though to deliberately undermine the illusion of real wood.
A hasty escape, then, and back up the road the Pebbly Beach, which isn't pebbly (not at this tide level) but does have semi-tame kangaroos which are obviously attracted to the food that idiots chuck to them despite the warnings not to. The roos are quite amusing, more so for the child [roo], about two thirds the size of its mother that still manages to tuck itself away in her pouch.
Part two is to head to Canberra, a drive so dull I have to hand over the driving and almost instantly fall asleep for the rest of the journey missing all the roadkill en route, the only sign of indiginous species -- I assume that cattle are not locals. Canberra is hot, damn hot. The YHA claims 32C but it feels more.
We park up in the National Library and walk to the National Gallery. Taking a punt on things I can safely record that Modern Art really is rubbish. You've seen the sort of pre-school scribblings that sensible parents gush over but consider the same with a steady hand. The are a few rare exceptions: Chris Close's(?) painting of "Bob" which you would swear was a 3m high print of a photograph of a face until you get really [really!] close. But generally it's rubbish that fools pay money for. It's a scam and good luck to you if you can make money from it. I admire a gallery's determination to record (read: buy) for posterity the style of each era much like the grade II listings of hideous concrete carbuncles (as the learned prince would say).
On to the National Archives, home to more substantial works such as the Royal Assent to Succession(?), Australia's "birth certificate" and some of Captain Cook's musings. Unfortunately, it was closed, as was the parliament building so we climbed on top of it as well.[?] The parliament's grass "roof" (on two sides) appears to be aesthetic rather than functional though it does provide the occaisional urban roo with a snack. The Pancake Parlour provided suitable troughing facilities before we retired to "the Cell" at Canberra YHA. It was quite well done, en-suite and all, but the painted brick walls brought the tone down.
Canberra YHA, Canberra S35.25227 E149.11253 Elev. 612m
Copyright 2003 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.