That could be a kookaburra you can hear, or it could be the faint wail of “Mirandaaaaa”. What is for sure is that on arrival to this eponymous Australian film location it would be virtually impossible for fans of Peter Weir’s 1975 classic Picnic at Hanging Rock to stop themselves re-enacting their favourite scenes.
Joan Lindsay, the author of the novel from which the film was adapted, knew how significant these 6m-year-old magma columns were to local indigenous tribes, but this site within the Macedon Ranges, just under an hour north-west of Melbourne, remains shrouded in mystery.
In Lindsay’s imagining, a group of schoolgirls made a trip to this imposing monolith on Valentine’s Day in 1900 and disappeared, with the only survivor who might explain the mystery returning with amnesia. This tale might be seen as a precursor to The Blair Witch Project, in that the public widely believed Lindsay’s story to be based on truth, which she didn’t discourage. A final chapter, released three years after her death at her instruction, provided a supernatural ending.
The undeniable spookiness hasn’t put off the wombats – they’re like bovver-boy badgers – whose ungainly trails wind up the steep incline, nor the koalas, possums and wallabies. It didn’t scare away the bloodthirsty bushrangers of the 19th century, who used Hanging Rock as a lookout to plan their ambushes on parties travelling to and from the nearby goldfields. Nor does it now deter the modern-day music fans who flock to see the occasional open-air concert here – famous names who have performed at the site include Leonard Cohen and Bruce Springsteen.
If you choose to picnic, there are regular farmers’ markets in nearby towns such as Kyneton (every second Saturday) and Riddells Creek (every third Saturday), where you can pick up local olives, cheese, bread and wine. Hanging Rock itself has biannual craft and produce markets. These are so popular – with punters bringing chairs and staying for the whole day – that we can forgive them for being so few and far between.
When you’re ready to leave, stick Straws Lane into your GPS. It’s known as “anti-gravity hill” – you’ll find that if you put your car into neutral it will seemingly roll up of its own accord. It’s an optical illusion, but one worth filming, as YouTube can attest.
You can’t chuck a grape without hitting a winery in the Macedons. There are more than 40 in the area, most of which are boutique operations. The ranges enjoy plenty of winter rain and fairly cool summers, giving local vineyards one of the latest vintages of the season of all Australia’s wine-producing regions. Thanks to that fertile volcanic soil, the key characters are high acidity, with soft tannins in the reds. If you want to keep things simple, Melbourne tour companies such as Go Get Around can chaperone you from cellar door to cellar door. During the annual Budburst festival in November, the doors are flung open even wider, often with live music at each pit stop.
A short drive farther north-west are the winsome towns of Daylesford and Hepburn Springs. The former hosts a good old-fashioned flea market on Sundays. The latter offers easy access to natural mineral springs and bush walks, as well as a profusion of luxury spa treatments.
To bookend your day with spookiness, head back to Melbourne via Clarkefield’s Coach and Horses – a bluestone pub built in 1857 that does a great dinner but is also a hotspot for ghost tourists, with its uninvited inhabitants including apparitions of both an Irish and a Chinese goldminer, and an unknown little girl. Note: calling out for Miranda might be pushing your friendship with the publican.
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