From
http://canberra.yourguide.com.au/detail.asp?class=lifestyle%20news&subclass=news
%20extra&story_id=1237609&category=news%20extra

UNDERSTANDABLE concern by rural folk over coverage of Telstra's Next G
network rather begs the question of how we managed only 20 years ago when
mobile technology in Australia was extremely limited and costly.

Though by world standards Australia's mobile telephone services are
unreasonably expensive, the cost today of buying and operating mobile
telephones is significantly less than in 1981, when a car-based phone cost
almost $5000. Connection cost a further $350 with the annual access charge
$800. Coverage was initially only in Melbourne, then Sydney.

The first hand-held mobiles, generally known as bricks, became available in
1987 and cost $4250. By about 1993, only about 4 per cent of Australians
owned one.

The digital network grew rapidly, with about one million subscribers by
1995. Then there were about 1.6 million on the analogue network.

In September, 1999, Telstra launched its CDMA network and by the end of that
year the analog network was effectively closed.

By February, 2001, with about 10.7 million, there were more mobile
telephones in Australia than fixed-line phones. The growth has continued,
with the Australian Communications and Media Authority reporting last week
that there are more mobile phone services in Australian than people.

With such growth, there is a general expectation that mobile telephone
coverage is a right, regardless of isolation. Though this is impractical, or
at least uneconomic, politicians are conscious of this demand. Hence the
pressure on Telstra to improve its Next G coverage before closing the CDMA
network, which it did last Monday.

Australia's telecommunications have come a long way in 40 years. Then, you
could not dial Queanbeyan direct from Canberra. The farm on which I grew up
was served by a manual telephone exchange. There was something quaint about
a service that opened at 9am, closed for lunch and dinner, and finished at
9pm.

Today's obsession over privacy would outlaw the potential for intrusion by
operators of such exchanges. After a misadventure at school, I was hauled
off to hospital by ambulance and my parents were advised by a long-distance
telephone call. Though they had not spoken with any neighbours, they were
stopped by one as they drove out.

"How's the boy?" the concerned neighbour asked. The exchange operators, a
friendly local couple, ensured the community was kept informed of such
details.

After the couple died, the 20 or so farms in the valley had the local
exchange replaced by party lines with connections made by an operator in the
nearest town about 40km away.

The party line system had four or five telephones on the same circuit. Only
one call could be made at a time and any of those parties could, and
sometimes did, listen to another's conversation. The only benefit was that
calls could be made at no charge to others on the party line.

The trick with a party line was to know when an incoming call was for you.
Our number was 3W. So the operator selected the correct circuit, then
delivered one short and two long rings, the Morse code for W. Other letters
that could be used were; d, g, k, o, r, s and u, all requiring only three
rings.

The replacement of the party line in the early 1970s with an automatic
telephone from which most of Australia could be called directly was a major
step. Though the area now has mobile coverage, it is at best sporadic, with
best results from hill tops.