Even though, apart from the first day, I haven’t spent longer than about three hours in the car, I really did appreciate driving very little today. I got off to a slow start. And coffee was even slower at the tea rooms by the tourist info centre – I was about to cancel the order as I’d long finished my raisin bread toast. Yes, that was breakfast!
Cowra, from a tourist point of view, is pretty much built on the
Cowra Breakout, when Japanese prisoners of war attempted to escape from the POW camp at the edge of town. There was a short but excellent presentation about it at the TIC. My ignorance re history knows no bounds! I learned there were about 18,000 POWs in a number of camps across Australia. I must find out where the others were. Strange since there was no fighting per se (as far as I know!) on Australia, not including the Japanese bombing of Darwin and Broome and ??? anywhere else. Was there a submarine in Sydney Harbour? Anyway, pretty much as white settlement began in Australia, many/most of these were overflow prisoners of the British!
If I understood correctly, this was the largest prison break-out in all of WWII. More to check up on! You can sort of imagine it …. a pretty laid-back sort of camp with pretty laid-back sort of guards – although they jumped to PDQ when the “fanatical” Japanese sounded their escape cry. “Fanatical” was used several times in the presentation. I’d have thought that might be a bit non-PC these days so they really must have been … fanatical. In large part it was the shame thing – they’d rather die trying to escape (as nearly 300 of them did) than suffer the whole shame thing of being returned home as repatriated POWs.
The Italians on the other hand were released to work on farms in the district and returned ‘home’ to prison each night. After being repatriated at war’s end, some (how many?) returned to Australia to live.
Visiting the site of the camp, of which very little remains, it seemed a particularly peaceful place, the breakout notwithstanding. The exact opposite of my sombre visit to Sachsenhausen where the horrors still hung in the air. At Cowra, a guard tower has been reconstructed, a few footings and concrete floor slabs are dotted about, and in amongst some quarter acre blocks (a housing estate seeming to be on part of what was the camp site) was one set of garrison gate pillars, now planted about with rosemary. That’s it.
Driving from the camp site I spotted a sign “Garrison Walk”. I did another of my U turns (it’s a wonder I’m not dizzy with them all!) because I spotted that the start at least looked suitable for sandalled feet. Once through the gate I knew I wasn’t going far because it petered out to a barely visible track pretty quickly. You could distinguish where the path was/had been by the peppercorn trees which, at a guess, were probably there, planted?, during war time. I love peppercorn trees – memories of one in the playground near my maternal grandmother’s place – going on 60 years ago!!
I went to take a photo but I was being watched …. by a kangaroo! What joy!! It and three or four others bounded off a little way from the shade of the tree where they’d been. They stopped and looked back at me. In the long grass, it looked like how meerkats look at something – as I’ve seen in photos since I’ve never seen meerkats in real life! Then they bounded off again, out of sight.
Cowra and Japan have built a strong link over the years. After coffee, my first stop was at the War cemeteries, one for Australians, including the couple who were killed in the breakout, and one for the Japanese. On the grave of one of those killed in the breakout was the remains of a wreath that had been placed, not all that long ago by the look of it, by the Prime Minister of Japan. Or maybe an ambassador on his behalf? The Japanese decided not to take the remains of their soldiers home because of how well the graves are tended here in Cowra. One thing did surprise me …. You always hear about our “brave ‘young’ soldiers” but some of those buried here were in their 40s and 50s when killed in action.
No photos. With a son in the Army it cuts too close to the bone, especially since his deployment to Afghanistan and the fear that lived with me every minute for a mercifully short bare three months.
An emphasis on peace and links with Japan are seen in a small garden (BBQ facilities, toilets, play and rest areas) donated by a Japanese organisation, a World Peace Bell in the main street by the Civic Centre, and most elaborately in the Japanese Gardens.
Late morning I went back to Bellevue Hill. I went there briefly late yesterday afternoon. The sun was unpleasantly, glaringly low in the sky. Much better this morning. Bellevue Hill has its own version of Twin Peaks, with communications towers on both. And since I wasn’t being blinded this time, there were great views over Cowra.
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| Bellevue Hill, Cowra - and views therefrom |
After Bellevue Hill I spent two hours walking through the Japanese gardens, blistering my baby bunions in the process – but well worth it. I didn’t take many photos at all today if you exclude those of the gardens! Every turn of your head brought another stunning sight. I had an audio guide which explained some of the thinking behind Japanese garden design which was fascinating. In this particular case, the site was chosen because of the properties of some of the boulders there. A major difference to other Japanese gardens is the gum trees. These were retained as symbols of Australian soldiers …. except the quote from the garden designer was much more eloquent than that!
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| Japanese Gardens, Cowra |
One thing that strikes you when you look “over the fence” at the land that borders both the beautiful and more ordinary gardens – the difference that water makes!
I could have stayed there for the rest of the day but wanted to see two other things that would close at the end of business hours: the art gallery (it was closed!) and the war museum (when I found it, it was the ramshackle site I’d passed on the way into Cowra yesterday’ totally uninviting). After those abortive attempts I did go back to the gardens and sat reading in the tea house for an hour, until closing time.
I did have lunch at the gardens. I started off sitting outside. It was hot but in the shade with a bit of a breeze it was lovely. Until three of four people at the next table lit up cancer sticks. Grrrrr!! So I went inside where it was far less pleasant (though notunpleasant, I hasten to add). It struck me that Americans who go on shooting sprees must be smokers – there’d be a whole lot more such sprees otherwise. I’d have shot those three if I’d had a gun handy!
After leaving the gardens the second time, I went to see the two bridges that Alison told me about. The first is a huge concrete thing over the Lachlan River. From on that bridge, you can’t see the second, a long way down, the old plank original. Having found it, there was no room to do one of my U-ies. Straight over, single lane, watch out for the kids jumping off it into the water because they were ignoring the cars. Having heaps of fun!
I got out of the car to have a closer look – at the kids and their antics and the paintings on the pylons. This appears to be an aboriginal site of long-standing. If not, they’ve made it their own now. The artwork is terrific and apart from one small patch of graffiti, the paintings, both sides of all the pylons, remain pristine.
And then it was time for tea. I’d be too ashamed to admit I went to the kids’ Maccas except for … it was cool; my laugh at myself – the girl did not say “Will you have fries with that?” – so I forgot to order fries!; and I caught the news, one item of which was about fires out of Orange, apparently started by fireworks on New year’s Eve. I wonder if that is the smoke I saw first as wisps and then soon billowing out, as I headed to Condo on Monday. No, just did a web check (free Wi-Fi – yay!): that was probably a fire near Trundle.
And so, back to the motel, driving down another crepe myrtle lined street, after a full but relaxing day.
PS: How hot has it been? Look away now if you don’t want to be grossed out!
When I pass my hand over my face it feels like I’m all dusty. But it’s actually the dried white salts of sweat!!!
