Written by lainie at 06:34 PM on June 29, 2009 in melbourne.

Daph's car busted during a recent roadtrip, and I ended up stranded in Ararat with her and Tim.

We got there slightly past dinner time, and there was barely any activity going on. It looked like the kind of place that didn't get too hectic in the daytime either, maybe because it was the long weekend. It wasn't always so --Ararat is the only town in Australia founded by Chinese people, during a gold rush. They have a Gum San heritage Centre there. I actually sit next to a picture of it nearly everyday, from Gazel and Tommy's visit.

The guy who drove the tow truck told us not much happened there. People passed by for the day, not a lot stayed for long. He tows a few stranded people to Ararat every day, he's had this conversation before.

He brought us to the Shire, told us we could stay there for the night, and rattled off the names of a few pubs we could go to if we got bored. There was also the old gaol museum, where the criminally insane were held, but it would be closed for the duration of our short stay.

(we were very hungry by the time I took this photo and found a cafe that served what Tim was craving -- parma)

Had our dinner in Red Poppy Bar and Bistro, then spent some time in the slot machines lounge attached to it. Upon reflection, that was the most happening and crowded place we saw in Ararat, but not the place for us. 

We tried to entertain ourselves, but as even the locals sheepishly told us, Ararat is a bit of a hole if you're just dropping by town for a night. Worse, even the few revellers who usually frequent the pubs seemed to have left town for the long weekend.

We decided not to waste the night anyway: the streets were quiet, and we strolled around, peering into the dark windows of the shops near The Shire. We saw police cars patrolling more than we did the locals. The banner for the store display above was a nice surprise: Tim designed it.

We ended up in hanging out at the pub in Leopold Hotel. We took one of two pool tables, us girls playing against Tim. The jukebox blasted cheesy music, we played pool, they drank beer (I gave it a pass).

When the jukebox played

1) Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You",

2) Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2U" and

3) Lily Allen's "It's Not Me, It's You"

the men at the bar started teasing us for selecting those songs. It wasn't us, but I do agree with Daph and me hanging out together, we were the most likely looking candidates. There's some tough-looking bloke in Ararat who likes his power ballads.

A small group of people our age came in. We asked one trendy looking girl where the place to hang in Ararat was. She gestured at the other ten people sitting around. "Yeah, you're here. This is pretty much it".

We're stuck in Ararat, but...you're here by choice....?

"Oh, I'm from Sydney, visiting family. I paid to fly here, it's heinous". Then she stuck some coins into the jukebox (against the protests of the men who wanted the free jukebox music), and formed a small circle with her three gal pals in the comparatively generous amount of floorspace.

They danced a bit, but no one else was convinced. It was a quiet night, and they didn't stay very long.

Most of the people we talked to were visiting family over the long weekend. One of them had been to Malaysia, a long time ago (pre-KLCC era).

Eventually, we left because we couldn't take the jukebox's auto-selection of strange Euro-house music. I like my raves, but even I was overwhelmed. It was a cold walk home, and we passed by a monument commemorating the soldiers stationed during the war in, amongst other places, Malaya. There were some teenagers with unnatural neon hair colours skating near it.

We went back to The Shire, and I rather like how old it was. Fiddly iron doorknobs, a big key for the door (boo to cardkeys!), old light switches, creaky floorboards; both Daph and I used the loo and had panic attacks we'd locked ourselves in.

Apparently, some other poeple are really fond of the building too. The Shire has some long term residents willing to "put up" with noisy backpackers trampling over the wooden floorboards at 3am. You could spot their doors by the keep out/shut up/"this room belongs to" kind of notices.

We (or rather, Tim) tried to clip a cloth to the top of the doorframe so we could block the exit sign's light from our room. The attempt involved repeatedly opening and closing the door, and we woke up a helpful — and probably disgruntled — long term resident.

She seemed to know exactly what we were up to, which means we're probably not the first fools to wake her up that way. Told us to use the hotel's towel, which would fit just right. It took us a while to get to sleep. Most of my ex-roomies know this, but when the lights go off, it makes me talkative.

Not because I'm suddenly in confessional mode, but because I am mildly scared of the dark and talking through it eases me into the idea that if something is in the corner, at least it's not chiming into the conversation. And at least I can bore it to bits.

The next day, Tim made us avocado on toast (yes, our own food). Bless. The heater there was very welcome too.

For both signs, I actually returned to my room to look for a pen to correct the grammar, and maybe make the signs  prettier. My efforts were shot down by my own half-heartedness and the fact that I stuff my backpack without thinking of how everything comes out later. Passive Aggressive Notes, anyone?

Walked downstairs and talked briefly to another resident, taking in some morning air. I don't usually wake up in the morning, but when I'm with Tim and Daph, I sleep early.

In the day time, Ararat has a nice, laid-back weekend feel to it. Just down the road from where we spent the night was a cafe called "Browse & Brew on Barkley".

 Books all around, good coffee, and the relief that a friend had come to our rescue. Cafes should always come with cosy corners and books.

Browse & Brew's tables had old documents from Ararat lacquered onto them -- some their own, others donated. Very nice idea for a cafe in a town that sells its history to travellers. I went to all the unoccupied lil' tables to take a look.

Ararat is a great stopover town...in the daytime. You'd have to stick around a bit longer than we did to figure out what goes on at night.

(Ararat has the lowest road signage I've ever seen, it's looks lower than those "Keep left" blue arrow signs!)

Since I'm visiting the country, I don't mind that I saw more of Australia that day. All incidental side trips are a boon. Who knows, I may be back soon, on my terms, for the wineries and the J. Ward gaol museum.