The Young and The Restless | Journey to the edge of the earth

Put them both together and you’ve got a recipe for a restorative retreat.

Well, I guess it would’ve felt like that if there weren’t one too many wines involved.

The heavily pregnant one of the 10, who was no doubt feeling more exhausted than the rest of us on arrival, probably felt the most lively on departure.

A friend I met on the first day of high school more than 30 years ago threw an invitation out to a bunch of her friends she’d added to a WhatsApp group chat a couple of months ago.

Surprisingly, more mums than you could poke a stick at (please don’t) managed to co-ordinate their availability.

Our destination – Trentham – is a quaint little historic town set in the Macedon Ranges.

It’s full of charming old buildings, oozing hospitable small town vibes and is home to arguably one of Victoria’s prettiest waterfalls.

Trentham Falls was formed along the Coliban River by a volcano millions of years ago.

The lava cooled slowly, and contraction during the solidification process caused vertical cracking, which created picturesque columns for the water to cascade mesmerisingly over.

If you’re a waterfall-chaser, you should scoot on over for a squiz before too long.

According to an educational sign at the site near Parks Victoria’s new phone cradle post for selfies, the falls are eroding quickly and may not exist in the near future.

Although, I’m not sure if their ‘near’ is the same as my ‘near’, or if we’re still measuring things in millions.

Our Airbnb was right next door to the falls.

While we couldn’t see the water through the thick forest and the deep chasm, we could hear it.

The stunning home was at the end of a long bush-track driveway, which ran adjacent to the waterfall access road on one side and a vast paddock, silent of any other life but sheep and their lambs, on the other.

The luxurious double-storey bush retreat itself was built in the shadow of another large rock face, which reminded me of the Dookie Quarry, albeit not as lofty.

On the other side, there was a sheer drop into the ravine in which the river flowed.

It felt like we were at the edge of the earth.

By nightfall, nine cars had converged at the property carrying passengers from different areas of the state.

Before too long, the fire was crackling, champagne corks were popping and legs were sliding into the comfort of pyjama pants.

Everyone had brought food and good conversation to share, and some age-defying dance moves (hindsight the next day taught me they were age-defying when I was regretting giving in to Flo Rida’s persistent urging of us to get low, low, low).

As we ducked outside to eyeball a golden sunset, we discovered an underground bunker on the property.

It set our imaginations alight, so we prompted ChatGPT to fill in the gaps and write us a full-length murder mystery whodunnit, featuring us, for a laugh.

But beneath the rock wall that enveloped us where we sat around a fire pit later that night, the crack of scrub above us from under the foot of what we hoped was just wildlife was as unsettling as the story had been amusing.

After promising each other the last one inside would lock all the doors, we ate, laughed and drank into the night, comforted by the outdoor fire, an indoor fire and the warmth of making new friends and reconnecting with old ones.

In the morning, an angel named Angel whipped us all up a cooked breakfast before some of us took a walk to the falls to counteract the Flo Rida-induced stiffness in them.

I had the longest drive home, so I took off soon after, but not without ducking into Trentham for a look at the historical police complex, which is set on a large block of land and leads visitors around a tour of old buildings, equipment and cells, all signposted with information about them and the whole district’s past as well.

It’s an impressive and informative volunteer-run site that is worth checking out if you’re in the area.

Volunteers are on site to run tours on weekends during the summer months; by appointment at other times.

A little further on from Trentham, there’s the charming Daylesford with boutique cafés, distilleries and day spas galore.

Back towards home, there’s historic Kyneton, Redesdale and Heathcote, all of which will make you mourn the loss of the grand old detailed buildings that once also lined Shepparton’s streets before they were replaced with less charismatic modern architecture.

It’s a pretty drive that I took alone with music blaring on the way there and true crime podcasts on the way back.

That, along with a girls’ night and a weekend in nature, gave me the triple threat of therapy.

Ready to face another week of work, parenting and planning the next getaway.