Today, Canberra is the capital of Australia, mainly because it's where they built all the federal buildings. But back in the early 19th century, it was a sleepy sheep station. If you listened carefully, you could almost hear the sheep bleating, lamenting their fate of being dragged into the annals of Australian history.

The area's first European settler, Joshua John Moore, arrived in 1823 and named his little patch of paradise “Canberry,” a name with origins as murky as a political promise. It’s most commonly claimed to be derived from the word Kambera, which means “meeting place” in Ngunnawal, a local Aboriginal language, which reflects the area’s longstanding role as a gathering site for the Indigenous people. The Ngunnawal had called this region home for over 21,000 years, so it’s fitting that the name would honor their heritage.

Others, though, suspect it is derived from the word Ngambri, which means “cleavage” or “breasts,” a reference to the twin peaks of Black Mountain and Mount Ainslie that stand sentinel over the area. So it’s just as possible that Australia’s capital is actually called Big Boobs. Disrespectful? Probably.¹

Moore's original ambitions likely didn’t stretch much beyond managing his sheep and avoiding the nips of his woolly charges. Little did he know that his humble station would eventually evolve into the beating political heart of Australia. But for several decades, Canberry remained an unremarkable dot on the map, populated by sheep, a few hardy settlers, and the occasional wandering wallaby.

The Great Capital Search

The idea of Canberra being a “meeting place” took on new meaning when, in 1901, the colonies of Australia federated to form a single nation. Sydney and Melbourne, Australia's two largest cities, both wanted the honor of being the capital. Their rivalry was legendary; if they were siblings, they’d be the kind who squabble over everything from who gets the last piece of Vegemite toast to who’s Mum’s favorite—or favourite, as it were.

Conditions on federation were set. New South Wales (Sydney) insisted the capital be in their state or they wouldn’t federate. Victoria (Melbourne) insisted the capital not be in Sydney or they wouldn't join the federation either. To resolve the childish fighting, the new nation’s leaders decided to create a capital city from scratch that had to be between Sydney and Melbourne, in the state of New South Wales, but no closer than 100 miles to Sydney.² These requirements were written into the new country’s constitution.

The search for a capital city acceptable to both Sydney and Melbourne was a herculean effort that involved extensive negotiation, countless backroom meetings, reams of correspondence, and long, long journeys across the country—over years. Years. So many cities³ dreamed of becoming Canberra, but in the end, only one did.⁴

In the end—well, 1908, anyway—Canberra emerged victorious, not because it was perfect, but because it was just perfect enough, and far enough from Sydney to satisfy the constitutional requirements without ruffling too many feathers. And thus, a sheep station transformed into the political heart of Australia, leaving its competitors to wonder what might have been.

A Yank with a Plan

In 1912, the Australian government launched an international competition to design the new capital. They wanted something grand, something that screamed “national pride” and “we’re definitely better than New Zealand.” Out of a staggering 137 entries from all over the world—including Mexico, Sweden, South Africa, Paraguay, France, and India—they ultimately chose an architect from Chicago, Walter Burley Griffin. With his wife, Marion Mahony Griffin, Walter presented a vision of a garden city with a geometric layout centered around a man-made lake.

With his American flair and innovative spirit, Walter Burley Griffin was about to turn the sheep pastures into a sprawling metropolis. His design featured wide boulevards, plenty of greenery, and a central lake that would eventually bear his name. Griffin envisioned a city that would be the envy of the world, where politicians could stroll through landscaped gardens pondering the next big policy, and perhaps, where kangaroos might still bounce around unperturbed.

Politics being what they are, though, there was plenty of carping. The whole process was directed by the Minister of Home Affairs, King O’Malley.⁵ Following a bunch of withering criticism, O’Malley referred Griffin’s plan to a departmental board for additional review. And as proof that literally nothing ever gets better through departmental review, the board ultimately decided that it couldn’t recommend any of the top four designs—so they produced their own, which pulled elements from each of the originals and “should result in the creation of a city which will be practical as well as beautiful.”⁷

Right.

So O’Malley, disapproving of adaptations made to the design, disbanded the board, reinstated the original plan, and assumed personal oversight for implementation and construction, inviting Griffin down to Australia to discuss it. Then, he hammered in the first peg on Capital Hill—to mark the commencement of the survey for the new city.

Hey, but they officially named it. “But it already had a name,” I hear you saying under your breath. “Why can’t Geoff tell a darn story in a linear, easy-to-follow way?” Because. That’s no fun.

Anyway, they decided to name it Canberra. Which, may I remind you, is technically different than “Canberry.” So. Linear. I mean, it was a pretty logical choice. The Australians did have other fine suggestions, though. Cookaburra, Wheatwoolgold, and Kangaremu topped the list of suggestions. Other ideas included Sydmelperadbrisho, Meladneyperbane, Swindleville, Gonebroke, and Caucus City. But on March 12 in 1913, Lady Denman, the wife of the Governor-General, mounted a crimson-draped platform and put this issue to rest, declaring, “I name the capital of Australia, Canberra—the accent is on the ‘Can.’”

Building Dreams and Dams

Construction of Canberra began in earnest in 1913.⁸ It was an enormous task that involved transforming the rural landscape into a modern city. Engineers built dams to create the planned Lake Burley Griffin, which would become the picturesque centerpiece of the city. The Griffins' ambitious plans faced numerous challenges, including bureaucratic wrangling, budget constraints, and the outbreak of World War I—all of which slowed progress considerably.

Despite these hurdles, the city's development soldiered on. By the 1920s, Canberra was starting to take shape, though it was still far from its grand vision. The early residents of Canberra were a mix of bureaucrats, builders, and the occasional bewildered sheep wondering where all these people had come from. The federal Parliament officially moved from Melbourne to Canberra in 1927,⁹ into its new, but temporary, home. The “Provisional” Parliament House, a rather stately structure by the standards of the day, was never meant to be the final one, despite becoming the seat of Australian politics for the next 61 years.

But let’s face it—while the members of Parliament and their staff began to work in the new capital, the city was still in its infancy, and accommodation was limited. Many of them had to live in temporary housing, such as the Hotel Kurrajong and Hotel Canberra, where they stayed during parliamentary sessions.

Also impacting growth—the Great Depression. And World War II.¹⁰

In fact, there were full-blown advertising campaigns to encourage people to move to Canberra as late as the 1970s. These campaigns highlighted the benefits of living in the nation's capital, such as job opportunities, particularly in the public sector, and the lifestyle that Canberra offered. One such campaign featured a brochure entitled "Hi! Come and join us in Canberra: A week in the life of 3 young girls in Canberra—a typist, a stenographer, and a secretary."¹¹

Despite brilliant advertising like that, the city still managed to develop, and more permanent residences were built. Canberra gradually transformed from a provisional town to the full-fledged capital it is today. The transition wasn't immediate, and it took several years for Canberra to grow into a city that could comfortably accommodate all of its parliamentary members and their staff.

The Great Lake and the Quest for Identity

One of the most significant developments in Canberra's history was the completion of Lake Burley Griffin in the 1960s. The lake—named in honor of Walter Burley Griffin¹²—became a central feature of Canberra, providing a scenic backdrop for the city's government buildings and a recreational area for its residents. The creation of the lake was a massive engineering feat, involving the construction of Scrivener Dam and the flooding of the Molonglo River valley.

The lake not only enhanced Canberra's aesthetic appeal but also helped to solidify its identity as a planned city with a unique character. The surrounding areas were developed into parks, walking paths, and cultural institutions, making the lake a focal point for locals and visitors. The city's planners continued to emphasize the importance of green spaces and environmental sustainability, helping to foster a sense of community and pride among Canberra's residents.

Epilogue: A City with a Sheepish Past

Despite its picturesque surroundings, Canberra has struggled to shake off its image as a bureaucratic backwater. The city is still derided by Australians from established urban centers who sew it as little more than a collection of government buildings surrounded by sheep paddocks. But Canberra's planners over the years have remained undeterred, continuing to develop the city according to Griffin's master plan.

The new Parliament House, an architectural masterpiece, frankly, opened in 1988.¹³ The new building, designed by Italian architect Romaldo Giurgola and opened by Queen Elizabeth II, marked a new chapter in Canberra's history. It quickly became a symbol of Canberra's evolution from a humble sheep station to a sophisticated and vibrant capital city.

Today, Canberra is a testament to vision and perseverance—lots of perseverance. The city is a hub of politics, culture, and education and home to some of Australia’s most important institutions and landmarks—the Australian National University, the National Gallery of Australia, and the National Museum of Australia are just a few of the cultural treasures that call Canberra home. And it’s a pretty great city to wander around in, too!

Albury’s pitch was poetic—nestled near Mount Kosciuszko, it was touted as Australia’s “greatest sanatorium,” where the pure air could cure practically all ills. But senators visiting in 1902 were met with a hot wind that showered them in yellow dust, filling their eyes, noses, ears, mouths, and clothing. “A nice position for a Federal cemetery,” said one. Another said it was "hot as a stokehole." Albury did not catch on.

Orange pulled out all the stops and hosted a picnic on Mount Canobolas so inspecting commissioners could enjoy the view. Town leaders pointed out how spry and robust the town’s elderly population was, implying future residents would live long, healthy lives. One catch: The Crown owned much of the town's land, making a buyout a costly option. Nope, said the federal money managers.

Dalgety was a strong contender, wooing inspection teams with speeches, community hall dinners, and sing-alongs. It also had the best water supply of all the competitive towns, which was a thing back then? Honestly, Dalgety seemed destined to become the capital until Sydneysiders had a big fat fit and fell right in it because they thought it was too close to Melbourne.

Tenterfield’s application included a claim that only having a single qualified medical practitioner in their town of 7,000 proved a surpassingly healthy environment. To corroborate this claim, the town's doctor added, "Part of this district is so healthy that I have never visited them professionally.” Surprisingly, this argument failed.

Wentworth, where the Murray and Darling rivers meet, had abundant water. Sadly, it was also in the middle of nowhere, far from both Sydney and Melbourne, with no rail connections. To anywhere.

Barbers Creek was proposed by local booster Herbert J. Rumsey, but virtually no one else in town was interested. Unsurprisingly, the town's application was "unimpressive" and never made it past the first round. Sorry, Herbie.

Eden was honestly the one to beat, mainly because it was conveniently located midway between Sydney and Melbourne. But it was also on the coast. So there was talk about the risk of inviting foreign invasion. It was more likely that Sydney wasn't keen on creating a rival port that could take away any of their shipping business.