Today, Melbourne is a mix of London and Manhattan, a place where ornate 19th-century monoliths sit in the shadows of plate-glass high rise. Its dense inner-city population lends it an un-Australian urgency, while cutting-edge architects, designers, artists and chefs ensure the state capital remains the city for the savvy consumer.
Not surprising, then, that visitors often neglect to follow the footsteps of the original diggers and seek treasures outside Melbourne’s limits.
I was, on the other hand, persuaded to leave an especially good crawl through a string of fashionable bars to head north. The latter-day horse and cart was a leather-upholstered Chrysler Voyager; the tour started at 8.30am and the excursion would last two days.
In just 45 minutes I was climbing the flanks of Mount Macedon, winding through thick forests of eucalyptus and then lavish stands of pine, which parted briefly to reveal the mansions of Macedon, homes to modern-day gold-getters — media stars, industry chiefs and corporate raiders. Cresting the summit, I was met by views of an ancient geological landmark made famous by a film released 30 years ago. Hanging Rock is a volcanic plug — a hedgehog of granite upthrusts rising from the pastoral vales and olive bushland. Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock quivered with heat, panpipe music and sexuality. It also set minds spinning as to the truth behind the mysterious “disappearance” of three schoolgirls and a teacher.
From here, the landscape becomes quintessentially “country Victoria” — possibly inspiring the lines of the national anthem that read: “We’ve golden soil and wealth for toil.” The fields of handsome wineries are striped with vines and studded with roses; gum-lined creeks are aromatic and shady and still carry a modicum of gold, while pretty frontier towns such as Woodend and Trentham have a slightly gimcrack feel, thanks to the practical diggers who knocked them together (lots of timber planking, verandas and 19th-century ornaments — sort of High Noon meets Camberwick Green).
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Shepherds Flat looks untamed, but the wild bushland hides two especially genteel attractions. Cricket Willow is home to the trees that make Australia’s cricket bats, and an utterly incongruous cricket oval. The Tinetti family have tended the willows for five generations. Today they run a museum in the pavilion and still make champion cricket bats. Their cricket oval is possibly one of the world’s most unusual and picturesque. Next door is the Lavandula Lavender Farm: this is a surprising piece of Provence surrounded by Aussie bushland — a place of colour, cobbles, sweet scents, crystal creek waters and an 1860s stone farm selling lunch and premier “country chic” products.
Daylesford, set on a shapely hillside, has turned its historic main street into a place of gourmet restaurants, antiques stores, quirky shops (including an Elvis-festooned 1950s emporium and superb second-hand book store) and fine art. One of the greatest luxuries for the 19th-century gold diggers was a hot bath, and in Daylesford it can still be said to apply. Thanks to the same volcanic history that formed Hanging Rock, the surrounding valleys leak efficacious mineral waters through a dozen springs, precipitating a handsome number of boutique spa centres that serve Melbourne’s great and good.
The Lake House is a graceful retreat with an emphasis on art, food and urbane indulgence — and now suitably equipped with a centre of pummels and bubbles. So at the end of my (admittedly modest) labours, I found myself immersed in a spa tub that was elevated among trees and open to Daylesford lake — while the vigorous mineral waters rubbed down my body, the sublime lake, silver in the evening light, soothed my mind. After a few cold beers I was feeling indulged enough, but I was then treated to a six-course dégustation meal, including trout sausage followed by kangaroo with wild plum chutney, washed down by select wines from the award-winning cellar.
Like me, you may return to Melbourne from the Victorian goldfields with rather less cash than you set out with, but rest assured you’re following a long and hallowed tradition of visitors before you. At least these days you return inspired, revived and feeling a million dollars.
Victoria, South Australia and the Northern Territory