The next senator to speak was making a statement about some kind of electronic box that Telstra, the Australian telco, was planning to bolt onto the Black Mountain mast that overlooks Canberra. Evidently this had stirred up some discontent. Mid flow, a volley of vitriol was fired at him from the seats opposite. One short, plump, bearded man was getting especially agitated. Suddenly the chamber erupted into a verbal war zone, everybody shouting to be heard above everybody else. Then, rising above the din, the little bloke with the beard hollered something about a "black spot" (regional areas of poor television reception). At this, the senator responded, "Your black spot's up here mate" and pointed at his head.

This remark was greeted with howls of approval, followed by more general pandemonium, at which point the speaker, who until then had kept a low profile, decided to get a grip on the proceedings. He gestured at someone, who stood up and started to read a question. At which point the speaker interrupted, "No, not yet, I haven't called you" and the guy with the question said, "Oh right. OK then", and sat down. Then a Liberal tried to raise a point of order and got into a debate with the speaker over whether or not he was allowed to say it without first 'seeking leave' to say it. The speaker seemed to think that he probably did have to seek leave to say it, so the Liberal bloke said, "OK then, I seek leave" and then said it.

Arriving at Parliament House, slap bang in the centre of it all, can leave you in no doubt that Canberra belongs to the politicians. Being inside Parliament House can also convince you that the politicians belong in Canberra. When you look at it like that, the Burley Griffin town plan makes perfect sense. It revolves around them as they revolve around it, each going round and round in circles without actually getting very far. And, like so many of the best political plans, Canberra looks fantastic on paper but on the ground it's maddening.

As we walked back along Commonwealth Avenue and over the immense lake, we were passed by the umpteenth pair of fast walkers that day. Everybody's doing it; striding about in their serious sporty kit, never quite threatening to break into a jog and rarely walking much faster than us tourists. Then I realized that we had hardly seen another person all day who was just walking normally like us. Virtually every other pedestrian was fast walking. They weren't walking to get somewhere; they were walking to get fit. It's perfect for that: over the bridge, round the lake and back again in a big Burley Griffin loop. Better than a treadmill for sure. Why else would any right-minded resident want to walk around this town? Anyone who actually wants to get somewhere goes by car.

But it's the quirks and foibles that make Canberra such a fascinating place. Deciding to locate it in the heart of the bush was unconventional from the start. The capital's architect was a visionary. He was given a lot of space to work with and he used it. And it's so, so green.

Postscript