Sixty years ago this time– it is 6am in Toronto, so say exactly sixty years ago – we crested the quartz ridge known at that point as Three Boys Hill and stared in awe (and fatigue!) at the town of Southern Cross spread out below us. Doug Davies had collected us from the Point Walter Hostel that morning and driven us (with a stop in Kellerberrin for a long lunch) to our new home.
The town of Southern Cross was not big then, and is not big now. It had been bigger in its glory days some fifteen years ago – I think there were a dozen hotels at one stage (but I suspect that some hotels were not much more than tents) but now there were only three.
The view from Three Boys Hill was not all that impressive, if the truth be told. We were presented with a dim view (sunset time, mid-winter there) of the backsides of the nearest houses, and most houses were sheathed sides and top with sheets of corrugated iron, much of it succumbing to rust. Backyards sported outside toilets, oil-drums serving as incinerators, heaps of mallee-roots for firewood, and practically nothing in the way of vegetable gardens or greenery.
A few minutes later we were parked outside of, and checked into one of the three hotels – The Palace – and I suppose but can’t recall we had a quick meal in the dining room. It would have been roast-and-veg with some sort of custard pudding for sure (for a classic description read Nevil Shute’s “A Town Like Alice”) and then surprisingly we were whisked off to watch the Spanish Dancers at the Town Hall.
The dancers were a touring troupe and had been scheduled from way back to appear on this evening in this place, regardless of scheduled shipping arrivals. And of course, it was a great opportunity for people from the town and the surrounding towns of Bullfinch, Moorine Rock, Bodallin, Ghooli and Marvel Loch to drive in and meet with the new minister.
Knowing what I now know of people, most people would want to meet the new minister first-hand rather than have to sit and listen to a neighbour crow in one-upmanship.
The big laugh of the night was when Mrs. Harrison of Bullfinch shook my Dad’s hand and told him that he looked “so different without your make-up”.
The Toronto Transit Commission
This is going to take several days. For me to log my comments. It will, however, take Toronto, the Toronto Transit Commission and the GTA several years to get through the discussions about whether or not a report should be prepared for submission to a committee charged with recommending whether or not a decision should be taken to call in a consultant to advise on the feasibility of conducting a study to see if the current system should be changed. After which we will need to get through the discussions about whether or not a report should be prepared for submission to a committee charged with recommending whether or not a decision should be taken to call in a consultant to advise on the feasibility of conducting a study to see if the current system should be changed. After which we will need to ...
The article supposes to discuss the pros and cons, but since I have used transit systems in various parts of the world, I read the article mainly as a series of excuses for taking no action at all.
In a nutshell: Every transit system surrounding the Toronto Transit Commission, that is,, every transit system EXCEPT the Toronto Transit Commission, provides co-operative fares. Mississauga and Brampton co-operate. Mississauga and Oakville co-operate. Oakville co-operates with Burlington, and so on.
Only the Toronto Transit Commission sticks its head in the sand and complains that “it can’t possibly work”.
Even when it works in all the other cities of the GTA as well as London, Paris etc. etc.