‘Green and gold: The National Arboretum Canberra’

In 2019, the Canberra Region Tourism Awards went to a bunch of trees (AKA: the National Arboretum Canberra). Think about that: in Australia’s centre of government and public service, green came out a winner.

Yet the whole project came from something awful: bushfires. In 2003, what was then mostly pine plantation was hit – along with many Canberra homes and six telescopes at Mount Stromlo Observatory – by the scourge of Australia.

However, visionaries looked to the future and saw the chance to fulfil Walter Burley Griffin’s original plan to have an arboretum on the western side, and so 250 hectares were set aside. It’s the only monocultural arboretum (pronounced aa·buh·ree·tm) of its size in the world.

Still, in truth, the National Arboretum is so much more. The view from either the café or restaurant over the ACT is sublime. It’s in the area they euphemistically call “the Village”. Perched on a small ridge, the eye-catching building has wrap-around glass so that no-one misses the view, while light emanating from the double-glazed roof panels – supported by massive laminated timber beams (56m the longest) – means no-one is in the dark.

If you glance to the side you can see the Margaret Whitlam Pavilion, a stunning function centre designed with acoustics in mind. The structure is an innovative pre-fabricated arrangement of steel beams and insulating composite panels, clad externally in zinc, echoing the ribbed roof of the Village Centre to the north. It also has echoes of the Sydney Opera House, for me, thanks to the sharp vertical angles. In between the two is a large field favoured by kite fliers.

However, inside the main building is a surprise (if you haven’t done your homework). There’s a first-class bonsai and penjing exhibition, garnered from enthusiasts everywhere and a must-see for visitors. (In case you were wondering, bonsai is the art and science of growing miniature trees and shrubs in containers by regular pruning of the roots and branches. It has been practised in Japan for at least 1,200 years, and includes the training, styling and maintenance of the trees. Bonsai originated from the Chinese practice of penjing, which is the art and science of growing miniature landscapes in a pot or tray, and can include rocks, different types of trees and ground covers, and perhaps small objects or figurines. Penjing may have a story, name or piece of poetry attached to it, and has been practised in China for at least 1,400 years.)

There’s also a quirky gift shop named The Curatoreum in the Village Centre, featuring unusual items – should you be so inclined. Oh, and then there’s the arboretum itself. Varied plantings are scattered everywhere, and beneath the Dairy Farmers Hill Lookout you can see more of them than from any other land-based viewpoint. While you’re at the highest point, it’s hard not to notice ‘Nest III’, an eagle sculpture of rusting components. You’ll probably see that old spanner that you lost years ago included in the nest itself, along with 100 others.

The other big feature of the arboretum is the ‘Wide Brown Land’ sculpture, in similar rust brown, set beside the Himalayan cedar forest. The three words that make up the name of the sculpture are styled in running writing 35 metres in length and present a must-take photograph.

When the arboretum first opened in February 2013, it was estimated that they’d draw about a million tourists over the first five years. Well they got that wrong, didn’t they! About 4 million found their way there, which would partly explain why its rather expensive carpark is usually always busy. My take is that they could run the whole place with the money they make from it.

Probing further on subsequent trips, I made my way to the mature cork oak trees on the lower slopes. The first cork seedlings were propagated from acorns sent to Charles Weston at Yarralumla Nursery in Canberra by Walter Burley Griffin as far back as 1917. Apparently their quality is good and they have been harvested on a few occasions under supervision. The 8-hectare section contains almost 4,500 trees.

En route to the cork I passed plantings of eucalyptus and some Japanese Flowering Dogwood, whose white flowers were slightly past their best. However, I was amazed when I wandered out behind them and found a large planting of magnolia with their first flowers just showing.

In between the hills there’s a zig-zag path that runs up the slope (or down depending on your viewpoint) and the triangles it makes can be purchased if you have a spare $50,000, which would explain why only about half a dozen have been taken to date. It’s called the Central Valley Path and the potential for this is exciting to say the least.

It was the last thing I wanted to see so, on my last day in the ACT, I rode off down the hill from the suburb of Higgins and inadvertently came in through an obscure and rarely used entrance at the far end of the oak forest. Reaching the path at the base I worked my way upwards until, ¾ of the way up I came upon an angry worker who said I shouldn’t be on the path and that there were signs saying so. He let me shoot the last triangle I wanted though and then I ventured off and up the steep climb to Dairy Farmers Hill, just to say I’d done it. Apparently it’s a bit of a ‘thing to do’ in Canberra.

I left the park and its 94 forests of rare, endangered and symbolic species, including the largest cultivated collection of living Wollemi pines in the world, feeling that Australia has, indeed, created something special that will satisfy for millennia to come.