Along the lines of History

In Australia’s Red Centre, Alice Springs is a special place, flanked by the dragon-like spine of the MacDonnell Ranges and dotted with tall desert bloodwoods, old river redwoods and ghost gums that sway along parched river banks. It still has the feel of a frontier town – I find it hard to shake off the feeling that just beyond its hospitable borders lies a wilderness where many European explorers perished trying to conquer. That is until they sought the assistance of the Arrernte Traditional Owners, who taught them how to find water and find sustenance on the land.

With Arrernte guidance, the Australian Overland Telegraph Line was finally completed in 1872, transmitting messages to Darwin, Asia and then on to Europe. Once this was set up, messages that used to take up to six months to deliver by ship could be crackled through overland cables in just seven hours. Communications radiated through the Alice Springs Telegraph Station, one of 12 such stations along the 3,200 kilometre line and the best-preserved of its kind in Australia today. Today, if you venture into the vast ochre plains that surround Telegraph Station, you’ll also spot some of the original telegraph poles, still standing proud along hiking trails that meander through witchetty bush and mulga scrub. Set just outside of town proper, the telegraph site is hauntingly quiet the first time I visit. A museum today, its original buildings – complete with the living quarters of the postmaster – stand frozen in time. They’ve been restored since they first opened more than a century ago. But they still hold colonial charm, as well as whispers of stories from the time they operated as the Bungalow, a boarding house for Aboriginal children after WWII. If the thick stone walls could talk, the would tell quite the tale. Much of the history is now relived through interpretive signs, including those dark chapters of the Lost Generations. Standing here, I feel the weight of history, and how this place was instrumental not only in the birth of a town but in the modernisation of a whole continent. It’s an almost spiritual weight. Small wonder that the site is often used for significant events, from intimate weddings to lavish dinners. The second time I visit as a stopover on the epic Ghan train journey from Darwin to Adelaide, I partake in the latter. Both visits take me on a deep dive into a history that has changed the face of Australia in so many ways. You can go at your own pace, discovering the many heritage buildings that dot the site. But I join one of the twice-daily tours to hear about the early telegraphers and their families, and those controversial 1930s Bungalow years. From here, a number of trails radiate into the Alice countryside, which I explore on foot – they’re equally accessible on bike.

But before I leave, I have to send an obligatory postcard from the still-operating, registered Post Office. Back in the day it used morse code to relay messages; today all you require is a stamp, popped in a gleaming red postbox at the Train Station Café. But there’s a poignant piece of history being delivered with my card – every letter sent is sealed with a unique Telegraph Station Commemorative Franking Stamp. A little bit of nostalgia for whomever receives this love note from Alice.