15 February 2013 - Sydney Tourist Park, Miranda, NSW

Early this morning we received a call from Maurie, the Mechanic; he had the fuel pump out and it was off to the “lab” for reconditioning. Still no definite response from the warranty company so we did mental  calculations in our heads to prepare ourselves for our cost share of the work; most likely 100% despite the numerous calls to and from National Insurance. It was now clear that we would be without a vehicle until at least Tuesday next week so we could apply ourselves to pursuits beyond mechanical woes. I suggested that I pack our lunch and we catch the train to Hurstville.

Hurstville, up until now just one of the many stations on the way into the city centre, is the commercial capital of St George, a region here in the southern part of greater Sydney boasting more than 220,000 people. It is bounded in the south by the Georges River and the east by Botony Bay and is a community of diverse cultures. At least that is what the tourist brochures say. We found ourselves teleported into a small city in China, fortunately one sympathetic to western reading requirements. Those same brochures expound the wonders of the Asian cuisine in Forest Road, and we certainly enjoyed the array of providors of Asian ingredients if not the restaurants themselves; a great assortment of duck parts, marvelously priced fruit and vegetables and very well priced regular meat cuts. There was however no horse meat in sight; this comment will only have relevance to those who may read this in early 2013.

We made our way to the small but interesting St George Regional Museum and learned about the very early settlement of the area. It was interesting to read of the demise of the aboriginal people of the area, so much so that there is no surety as to what tribe the original inhabitants may have belonged to, and to learn of the “dregs” of European society that came to settle through the  19^th century; hardy folk who could withstand the remoteness and the terrible conditions of the place. Interestingly when Captain Cook landed in Botony Bay, he had expounded the virtues of this fabulous land so perfect for settlement, a sentiment that had been rubbished by Phillips and those in the First Fleet who abandoned any such plan and headed into Sydney Harbour instead. Those hardy souls who did take up settlement in Botony Bay later ground out a living farming oysters, burning lime gathered from aboriginal shell middens for building material in Sydney and charcoal for the firing of kilns. Boat building and furniture making followed but it would seem it was such a hell hole that even the missionaries and educators gave it a wide berth for some time.

The railway opened in 1884, eight years after the first school. The municipality was incorporated in 1887 and in 1988, Hurstville was declared a city.

There is little in the museum to explain why the Asians have taken over the centre of Hurstville, however it takes little imagination to understand that Asians are hard working, enterprising people who would surely be most comfortable working and living among their own kind. Of course there are pockets all over the country, indeed the world, of ethnic groups doing the same. I imagine there was a time when residences were affordable here, hence the drawcard for new immigrants. But today as we browsed the real estate windows we could see that it is no longer a place for the poor to invest. Hopefully those immigrants of more recent years have done well; no doubt they deserve the fruits of their labour.

We found the museum worth the visit and it doubled as a refuge from a heavy shower of rain. We took lunch in the more conventional Westfield Shopping Centre where we found a better indication of Sydney’s population mix, although window shopping up and down Forest Road had been far more entertaining.