Through the Land of Gum and Home Again.

Hauraki Plains Gazette, Volume XXXX, Issue 5380, 28 January 1929, Page 1

Through the Land of Gum and Home Again.

(By

C. W. Malcolm.)

(The opinions and criticisms expressed here are; not necessarily those of the Editor.) PART 11.

If you ask me what struck mojmost in Sydney I must confess first, Tooth’s liquor hoardings in every place and comer of that tremendous city ; and next, the pile upon pile, hundred upon hundred, thousand upon thousand, of appartnien.t houses or flats built of brick and stretching for milers, up hill and down dale, ip. awful and unvarying similarity of dirty uniformity, in which seemed to me to huddle the thousands of sentimentwrung souls of the dusty metropolis. I toured through Sydney in search of something to relieve the eye, but did not find it. The par,ks were dry and parched and dead ; the beaches were uncomfortably jambed by multitudes ; more than pathetic, beggars rattlqd money-boxes at the street corners; picture theatres and the more modern marvel of the “talkies held long queues from early morning till late at night; the zoo, although quite, creditable excepting for, a rather feeble aquarium, to see which, an extra charge is imposed 1 , is a great disappointment to the Aucklander who has hear,d so much about it The most qntertaining exhibit is that of a polar bear and its c ( ub, .and! the intelligences that planned the lay-out •of the place placed these beautiful creatures in a pit directly below the public thoroughfare, fr.om which people dr, op cigarette butts, matches, peelings, and paper, not forgetting the boy whose ears I simply had) to cuff for spitting op to the dumb br.utejs, below. New Zealanders, I say, protect your own country, for it is, above any, a gift of the g.ods. Tired of the city, you sample the New South Wales railway system in a trip to Bulli, on the east coast line, for there you see the bush-clad Illawara Rangi and gaze across the rolling Tasman from the famed) Bulli Pass.

The Sydney Central railway station is a tremendpius, dirty concourse. A great boards shttws you thq time anti platform for the next train to any place you want. It is; a wonderful in; novation, but is nullified by the fact that you get loist.in trying to find a place to buy your ticket.

Having purchaser a ticket it is your job to find the way to platfjxrm 11, ,■ whence is scheduled to depart the train for Illawara, East Coast line. The great common platform canopied by its vast sweeping dome Of glass is crowded by people moving in and out among book stalls, fruit stands, and sweets counters, newspaper depots, piled; luggage trucks propelled by shouting porters; there are even sort of drapery establishments there, and a chemist shop.

A ticket collector, punches your ticket at the barrier, and another seizes your baggage and leads you at a- racing pace to a, compartment of which he unlocks the door, bustles you in, and locks you there again. If you want to get out you have to put your head through: the window, and bawl for the porter, unless you carry a skeleton key; •

Although New Zealanders never cease to condemn and disparage their, own railways, the traveller who is obliged to travel extensively in the trains supplied him by the New South Wales Government begins to realise that the railways of New Ze a_ land are not the worst in the world by a long long .way. There is something more dignified, mere graceful, more refined about the very appearance of a New Zealand train. In N.S.W. the Engines are great dirty, rusty, coarse, clanging brutes, defvoid of cow-catcher, lacking black shine and glint of polished brass work, and mannejd by plain clothes engineers, uniforms for engineers being strangely lacking. Their carriages stand great ugly boxes of red and yellow, paint, with a hundred doors swinging opep at every Ration and every door stamped in unartistic lettering witn. the mar,k of class till one is .sick of knowing that the | world is aware, without any effort, that you have a seeondt-class ticket. A New Zealander who can never sit moire than one seat from a windaw cannot realise the bitter rush to secure a window scat in an Australian train. Apart from some few newfangled corridor ears, which never came my way, the carriages are ctiUup into compartments across which r.un two l sqats, from side to side, one facing, the other having its bac.lt to the direction in which the train is moving, Six people sit on either side, only the two on the oute;r edge having the window. A carafe and a tumbler are secured near the ceiling for those who desire to drink warm water fr.om time to time. 1 use'll the innovation as a spirit level to gauge the amount, of motion of the train, andi never, sat below one, not pinning much faith in the efficacy of the rubber stopper. When you enter an Australian train you remove your cellar and tie, Place them in your pocket, take off your coat and! roll up your sleejves. After that, bells clang, whistles blow, porters shout as they dash along unlocking doors, the engine gives a despairing howl —not a whistle, as our dignified locomotives render —but always and perpetually that baffled and parched howl from a throat that hats not touched! moisture since the drought started, and you are moving for the first time in youi; life; in an Australian train.

(To be continued on Wednesday.)