From Melbourne to Wangaratta: what I learned about country life
Melbourne girl moves to Wangaratta for work. Here’s what one city slicker learnt about sport, community, food and family — all from a tree change.
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WHEN I found out in 2016 that I’d been offered an internship at a country newspaper in Wangaratta, I couldn’t wait to get started.
Like many born and bred Melburnians, I harboured romantic ideals of Australian country life.
I pictured wide, open farmland, fresh produce and stunning scenery — all of which is true.
But what I didn’t expect to learn were the hilarious and endearing idiosyncrasies of the local population.
1. Once people meet you, they immediately try to figure out who you’re related to.
That meant repeating my last name several times to make sure they heard it correctly.
“No, not Tick — it’s exactly what you thought you heard,” I’d say, before explaining my Scottish heritage.
I quickly found out there was another Dick in Wangaratta, but he wasn’t exactly doing our family name proud.
2. Everyone really knows everyone.
For better or worse, long-time locals know everyone’s business. The best part about this is the strong sense of community.
If there’s a crisis or tragic death in someone’s family, everyone bands together and extends warm hands of support.
People from all over town deliver hot meals and bundles of flowers to those in need.
However, the flipside of living in such a close-knit community is the gossip.
Rumour can be rife in country towns and everyone thinks they have the inside scoop.
The key is to accept it and rise above it.
You know what they say about sticks and stones.
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3. They have a deep appreciation of where their food comes from.
Before I moved to Wangaratta, I could barely tell the difference between a parsnip and a radish plant, and I was definitely the only vegetarian in the office.
With my shameful survival skills, I’d be lucky to stay alive for one hour in the Hunger Games.
Thankfully, unlike snobby Melbourne foodies, the locals were kind enough to share their knowledge of crops and livestock without making me feel too embarrassed.
It didn’t take long before I found myself talking to vignerons about the best conditions for a good vintage, or to cattle farmers about a decent price for a heifer with the confidence of someone who’d worked the land their whole life.
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These conversations made me realise the shocking extent to which Melburnians are disconnected from the daily struggles of our farmers.
When we hear about bushfires or droughts, we don’t feel the suffocating pressure like countryfolk do.
Agriculture is their livelihood, and the impact of environmental disasters can be absolutely devastating.
We need to support our farmers.
4. Sport is the apex of social life.
Upon joining the local football and netball club, my social world cracked open like a Pandora’s box.
I had zero connections in Wangaratta, but within a month of playing netball, I was singing along to Horses by Daryl Braithwaite at one of the rowdiest pubs in town.
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I was invited to boozy trivia nights, presentation nights and weekly awards ceremonies where it was on for young and old.
I volunteered at the club’s canteen on Saturdays, serving hot chips with gravy to everyone in town, from top police prosecutors to fireys, lawyers and hairdressers.
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5. Country people are generally really friendly.
Complete strangers will greet you on the footpath with a broad smile and a “g’day” like you’ve been best friends for years. It’s startling at first, but once you get used to it, it’s awesome.
People working the cashier at local supermarkets or bakeries will ask how you’re going and, unlike in the city, it feels like they really mean it.
It took me at least two months to stop jumping out my skin when someone I didn’t know said “hello” to me on my morning walks.
I’ve tried taking it back to Melbourne but I’m often met with confused faces asking, “Do I know you?”
Awkward.
My stint in Wangaratta made me realise there is so much more to Australia than our bustling capital cities.
Back in Melbourne, when I’m stuck in peak hour traffic, my mind drifts off to those wide open plains, where the sound of cows mooing would gently wake me up each morning and the neighbours know my name.
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