Rolling into this heritage-lookin’ town just 90 minutes from Melbourne, I felt like I’d landed in complete vintage heaven.

Castlemaine, you beauty! I spent most of the day touring around all the vintage and op shops, trying on twirly dresses and eventually finding a vintage hand clutch bag that screamed, “I’m all yours, baby!” I got lost in a wonderland of second-hand books and skimmed through stacks of vinyl records. The whole place smelt wonderfully old-school, like stepping back in time.

It was then time for this Queen to leave the castle and settle into the mountain views at my strawbale B&B just down the road. Welcomed by several alpacas and the host, Ada, I was feelin’ the love.

Cosy and quaint, the strawbale abode was one open living space with a queen bed, kitchenette, and wooden fireplace. The bathroom featured a humongous spa bath where you could peek out the wooden shutters to the fireplace and open garden. No time was wasted—I was in. I sank into the bath, melted into the evening, and let myself simply be, like the sun setting outside.

After a peaceful sleep, I sat up in bed with my current read and a cup of tea, watching little birds go about their day from the window. Then I suddenly remembered—this was a Bed and Breakfast. I ran straight to the fridge and found all the delights to create a wholesome meal, complete with homemade relish. I sat outside in the garden, feeding my face as the scenery fed my soul.

The day was clear and sunny, so I wandered around the property making friends with the locals. One sweetheart alpaca even gave me a kiss—pretty sure he liked the smell of my tobacco and hay body wash. I patted the ’pacas for a while, soaking in the fresh air and mountain views. Taking three deep breaths, I sat still and thought: life is busy, but not today. Today, I am here, still and well.

In the afternoon, I drove to check out a local produce store I’d heard about on the grapevine. The smell of freshly baked sourdough wafted through the door as I walked in—how good is fresh bread?! I wandered the shelves of homemade treats while locals enjoyed their lunches, though I was still full from my country-style breakfast.

Back at my pocket of paradise, I snuggled under the covers with my book—possibly with a cheeky arvo nap thrown in. Later, I loaded up the fire and watched Mother Nature’s sunset light show from the verandah. It was the place to be, a reminder that there’s nothing like the present moment.

The next morning, I brekky’d big again and soaked up the sweet luxury of a lunchtime check-out. The mountain views shimmered in electric blue, soft light dancing on every ridge and treetop.

It was hard to say goodbye to this dear little haven, but I didn’t leave empty. I carried the stillness with me—the warmth of slow mornings, the kiss of mountain air, and a little more magic in my step.