In our month in Chiltern, a town of around 1000 people located between Wangaratta and Wodonga, we relaxed into a low-key vibe. Admittedly, we had just had a delicious granddaughter, which inclined us to viewing the world, even with COVID, climate change and the lead-up to the US election, through rosy-coloured glasses, reminded as we were of new life and hope.
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But, grandparent smittenness aside, we revelled in our time away. The quiet, the lack of air pollution, the tiny IGA that had just about everything we needed, the fact that everything was five minutes’ walk away, the night skies, the empty streets, the lake filled with baby ducks and moorhens, the fact that is it simply easier to feel calm when you are away from the rush and bustle of a big city.
I love my life in this fabulous metropolis, I do. But as we drove ‘home’ through endless miles of suburbs, my heart sank. We stopped at a vast supermarket and felt completely overwhelmed. I know that soon I’ll be back into the swing of all that Melbourne offers. But I have fellow-feeling for those of my compatriots seriously considering a sea or tree change.
Clare Boyd-Macrae is a Melbourne writer.
