From capital cities (yes, seriously) to iconic neighbourhoods, Aussie-bred mispronunciations are frighteningly common.
Our laidback drawl is globally adored but did you know we’re pronouncing our own hometowns inaccurately? A recent study conducted by Preply , an online language learning platform, combed through search data for 332 Australian hot spots and discovered the number of times people have Googled ‘How to pronounce’ or ‘How to say’ our most recognisable destinations. While it may be distinctly un-Australian to get all of them right, some are downright cringe-worthy. Drumroll, please…
10. Derby, Western Australia
Don’t say: Dar-bee
Do say: Der-bee
Spectacular dirt terrain, tropical mangrove swamps and one consistently misarticulated moniker. Poor old Derby in Western Australia may serve as one of the most unforgettable things to do in the Kimberley but it’s come in as the tenth most mispronounced place in the country. Resist the temptation to switch the ‘e’ for an ‘a’ and take a more refined approach without a second thought.
Swoon over the magnificent Boab Tree in Derby. (Image: Tourism Western Australia)
9. Warwick, Queensland
Don’t say: Wor-rick
Do say: Wa-rick
Boot-scootin’ babies can’t get enough of Warwick in Queensland’s Southern Downs, particularly fans of the Warwick Rodeo and Gold Cup Campdraft, one of the best events happening this month, but many haven’t the foggiest idea how to say it. Shimmying in at number nine on the list, this country town is more ahh and less ohh.
Visit the heritage-listed Warwick Post Office. (Image: Tourism and Events Queensland)
8. Ngunnawal, Australian Capital Territory
Don’t say: Nun-uh-wahl
Do say: Nun-nah-wol
It’s home to one of Australia’s best emerging city experiences, but pronouncing Ngunnawal is proving a bit of a mouthful. Registering in eighth place is the land within Canberra and a name that also represents the Traditional Owners of the Canberra region. Ditch the inclination to follow Ngunnawal’s literal ‘a’ at the second last letter and steer it towards an ‘o’ sound.
Practice perfecting the name Ngunnawal before you visit the ACT. (Image: Tourism Australia)
7. Balmain, New South Wales
Don’t say: Bal-mah or Bal-mahn
Do say: Bal-mane
Sadly, we’re quite some distance from chic Paris. As tempting as it is to pronounce Balmain with the type of Je ne sais quoi that fancies up Target to Tar-jay (just us?), articulating the inner west suburb of Sydney is way more literal. Next time you’re referring friends to Balmain and its epic secret summer swimming spot, call it directly as it reads.
Dawn Fraser Baths is a cool swimming pool complex in Balmain. (Image: Destination NSW)
6. Canberra, Australian Capital Territory
Don’t say: Can-berra
Do say: Can-bra
It doesn’t get more ocker than this. Yes, Canberra may technically contain eight letters but there’s only six letters worth bothering with. Proving once and for all that we Australians roll right over the pronunciation of an ‘er’, Canberra’s correct articulation ignores the suffix completely. Gotta love Straya’.
The best way to explore Canberra is by hot air ballooning over Lake Burley Griffin. (Image: Tourism Australia)
5. Gloucester, New South Wales
Don’t say: Glow-kester or Glou-sester
Do say: Gloss-ter
One of the prettiest Lower Mid North Coast NSW towns on the map, Gloucester on the Barrington Coast is often mispronounced for its likeness to the British town of Gloucestershire. Punch up ‘ouces’ as ‘oss’ and you’ll score top points whenever you’re referring to the magical mecca of bushwalks, cellar doors and outstanding camping.
Gloucester is surrounded by scenic landscapes. (Image: Destination NSW)
4. Launceston, Tasmania
Don’t say: Lawn-ses-ten or Lawns-ten
Do say: Lon-ses-ten
You may get away with pronouncing Launceston similarly to how it’s spelt but you’ll need to check yourself if you’re chatting to Tassie locals. The wonderful river-facing city, home to so many beautiful historical sites and stunning scenery, should be articulated with a ‘lon’ rather than a ‘lawn’.
Cataract Gorge Scenic Chairlift in Launceston is one of the longest chairlifts in the world. (Image: Tourism Australia)
3. Melbourne, Victoria
Don’t say: Mel-born
Do say: Melben
Slipping in at third position is one of our native language’s most criticised pronunciations – Melbourne. Commonly referred to as ‘Mel-born’ around the world, and for understandable reasons given the spelling, our beloved culture capital is more widely accepted with a rounded off ‘ben’ sound. Again, Straya’.
Melbourne is home to Australia’s oldest train station. (Image: Visit Victoria)
2. Prahran, Victoria
Don’t say: Praa-ran
Do say: Pran
Keeping the curiosity within Victoria, the trendy suburb of Prahran has proved another bone of contention, arriving on the list in second place. Renowned for its outstanding shopping, dining and entertainment, making it a must-explore on any multi-day itinerary of Melbourne, Prahan should be shortened to just a smidge over one syllable to earn authenticity points off locals.
Prahran Market is a one-stop shop for fresh produce in Melbourne. (Image: Visit Victoria)
1. Cairns, Queensland
Don’t say: Kerns or Can
Do say: Cans
Are you one of the savvy few who don’t stumble over Cairns when you’re saying it out loud? You’re sitting in the minority. Coming in at first place is Far North Queensland’s tropical gateway. Perhaps we should blame the Frenchies for tagging their big Cannes film festival with too-similar a name, but the ongoing debate surrounding the pronunciation of Cairns is as robust as the verdict on pineapple-topped pizza. Here it is, once and for all: Cans. Now, there’s no excuse.
It’s the gateway to the Great Barrier Reef but Cairns is a mouthful for many. (Image: Tourism Tropical North Queensland)
Kristie Lau-Adams is a Gold Coast-based freelance writer after working as a journalist and editorial director for almost 20 years across Australia's best-known media brands including The Sun-Herald, WHO and Woman's Day. She has spent significant time exploring the world with highlights including trekking Japan’s life-changing Kumano Kodo Pilgrimage and ziplining 140 metres above the vines of Mexico’s Puerto Villarta. She loves exploring her own backyard (quite literally, with her two young children who love bugs), but can also be found stalking remote corners globally for outstanding chilli margaritas and soul-stirring cultural experiences.
The Grampians just might be the ultimate antidote for the metropolis, writes one returning Aussie ready to disconnect from the modern world and reconnect to the Great outdoors.
There are no kangaroos back in Chicago: they’re all here in the Grampians/Gariwerd . In the heart of the Grampians National Park’s main gateway town, Halls Gap, pods of eastern greys are eating grass beside my parked rental car beneath the stars. Next morning, when I see the backyard of my rented villa on the edge of town for the first time, there are kangaroos feeding beside a slow-moving creek, lined with river red gums.
Five hundred metres up the road, 50 or so of them are eating by the side of the road in a paddock. I pull over to watch and spot three emus. Yellow-tailed black cockatoos fly overhead towards the tall green mountains just beyond town.
‘Kee-ow, keee-oww’… their calls fuse with the maniacal cackle of a kookaburra (or 10). Gawd, how I’ve missed the sound of them. Far above, a wedge-tailed eagle watches, and there you go: the ‘great birds of Australia’ trifecta, all half a kay from the town limits.
Exchanging city chaos for country calm
The park is renowned for its significant diversity of native fauna species. (Image: Visit Victoria/Robert Blackburn)
I’ve come to the Grampians to disconnect, but the bush offers a connection of its own. This isn’t just any bush, mind you. The Grampians National Park is iconic for many reasons, mostly for its striking sandstone mountains – five ridges run north to south, with abrupt, orange slopes which tumble right into Halls Gap – and for the fact there’s 20,000 years of traditional rock art. Across these mountains there are more than 200 recorded sites to see, created by the Djab Wurrung, Jardwadjali and Gunditjmara peoples. It’s just like our outback… but three hours from Melbourne.
I’ve come here for a chance at renewal after the chaos of my life in America’s third-largest city, Chicago, where I live for now, at the whim of a relative’s cancer journey. Flying into Melbourne’s airport, it only takes an hour’s drive to feel far away from any concept of suburbia. When I arrive in Halls Gap two hours later, the restaurant I’m eating at clears out entirely by 7:45pm; Chicago already feels a lifetime ago.
The trails and treasures of the Grampians
Grampians National Park /Gariwerd covers almost 2000 square kilometres. (Image: Ben Savage)
Though the national park covers almost 2000 square kilometres, its best-known landmarks are remarkably easy to access. From my carpark here, among the cockatoos and kangaroos on the fringe of Halls Gap, it only takes 60 seconds’ driving time before I’m winding my way up a steep road through rainforest, deep into the mountains.
Then it’s five minutes more to a carpark that serves as a trailhead for a hike to one of the park’s best vantage points, The Pinnacles . I walk for an hour or so, reacquainting myself with the smells and the sounds of the Aussie bush, before I reach it: a sheer cliff’s edge lookout 500 metres up above Halls Gap.
Overlooking the vast Grampians landscape from Hollow Mountain. (Image: Robert Blackburn)
There are hikes and there are lookouts and waterfalls all across this part of the park near town. Some are a short stroll from a carpark; others involve long, arduous hikes through forest. The longest is the Grampians Peaks Trail , Victoria’s newest and longest iconic walk, which runs 160 kilometres – the entire length of Grampians National Park.
Local activities operator Absolute Outdoors shows me glimpses of the trail. The company’s owner, Adrian Manikas, says it’s the best walk he’s done in Australia. He says he’s worked in national parks across the world, but this was the one he wanted to bring his children up in.
“There’s something about the Grampians,” he says, as he leads me up a path to where there’s wooden platforms for tents, beside a hut looking straight out across western Victoria from a kilometre up in the sky (these are part of the guided hiking options for the trail). “There are things out here that you won’t see anywhere else in Australia.” Last summer, 80 per cent of the park was damaged by bushfire, but Manikas shows me its regrowth, and tells me of the manic effort put in by volunteers from town – with firefighters from all over Australia – to help save Halls Gap.
Spot wildflowers. (Image: Visit Victoria)
We drive back down to Halls Gap at dusk to abseil down a mountain under the stars, a few minutes’ walk off the main road into town. We have headlamps, but a full moon is enough to light my way down. It takes blind faith to walk backwards down a mountain into a black void, though the upside is I can’t see the extent of my descent.
Grampians National Park at sunset. (Image: Wine Australian)
The stargazing is ruined by the moon, of course, but you should see how its glow lights up the orange of the sandstone, like in a theme park. When I’m done, I stand on a rocky plateau drinking hot chocolate and listening to the Aussie animals who prefer nighttime. I can see the streets of Halls Gap off in the distance on this Friday night. The restaurants may stay open until 8pm tonight.
What else is on offer in The Grampians?
Travelling along the Wimmera River in Dimboola. (Image: Chris McConville)
You’ll find all sorts of adventures out here – from rock climbing to canoeing to hiking – but there’s more to the Grampians than a couple of thousand square kilometres of trees and mountains. Halls Gap may be known to most people, but what of Pomonal, and Dimboola, and Horsham? Here in the shadow of those big sandstone mountains there are towns and communities most of us don’t know to visit.
And who knew that the Grampians is home to Victoria’s most underrated wine region ? My disconnection this morning comes not in a forest, but in the tasting rooms and winery restaurants of the district. Like Pomonal Estate, barely 10 minutes’ drive east of Halls Gap, where UK-born chef Dean Sibthorp prepares a locally caught barramundi with lentil, pumpkin and finger lime in a restaurant beside the vines at the base of the Grampians. Husband-and-wife team Pep and Adam Atchison tell me stories as they pour their prize wines (shiraz is the hero in these parts).
Dine in a restaurant beside vines at Pomonal Estate. (Image: Tourism Australia)
Three minutes’ drive back down the road, long-time mates Hadyn Black and Darcy Naunton run an eclectic cellar door out of a corrugated iron shed, near downtown Pomonal. The Christmas before last, half the houses in Pomonal burnt down in a bushfire, but these locals are a resilient lot.
The fires also didn’t stop the construction of the first art centre in Australia dedicated to environmental art in a nature-based precinct a little further down the road (that’s Wama – the National Centre for Environmental Arts), which opened in July. And some of the world’s oldest and rarest grape vines have survived 160 years at Best’s Wines, outside the heritage town of Great Western. There’s plantings here from the year 1868, and there’s wines stored in century-old barrels within 150-year-old tunnels beneath the tasting room. On the other side of town, Seppelt Wines’ roots go back to 1865. They’re both only a 30-minute drive from Halls Gap.
Great Western is a charming heritage town. (Image: Griffin Simm)
There’s more to explore yet; I drive through tiny historic towns that barely make the map. Still part of the Grampians, they’re as pretty as the mountains behind them: full of late 19th-century/early 20th-century post offices, government offices and bank buildings, converted now to all manner of bric-a-brac stores and cafes.
The Imaginarium is one, in quirky Dimboola, where I sleep in the manager’s residence of an old National Australia Bank after a gourmet dinner at the local golf club, run by noted chef and teacher, Cat Clarke – a pioneer of modern Indigenous Australian cooking. Just south, I spend an entire afternoon at a winery, Norton Estate Wines, set on rolling calico-coloured hills that make me think of Tuscany, chit-chatting with owners Chris and Sam Spence.
Being here takes me back two decades, when I lived here for a time. It had all seemed as foreign as if I’d driven to another planet back then (from Sydney/Warrane), but there seemed something inherently and immediately good about this place, like I’d lived here before.
And it’s the Australian small-town familiarity of the Grampians that offers me connection back to my own country. Even in the better-known Halls Gap, Liz from Kerrie’s Creations knows I like my lattes with soy milk and one sugar. And while I never do get the name of the lady at the local Ampol station, I sure know a lot about her life.
Kookaburras are one of some 230 bird species. (Image: Darren Donlen)
You can be a local here in a day; how good is that? In Chicago, I don’t even know who my neighbour is. Though each day at dusk – when the kangaroos gather outside my villa, and the kookaburras and the black cockatoos shout out loud before settling in to sleep – I prefer the quieter connection I get out there in the bush, beneath these orange mountains.
A traveller’s checklist
Staying there
Sleep beside the wildlife on the edge of Halls Gap at Serenity .
