Trekking Hanging Rock with a llama

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Jocelyn Pride discovers that trekking the Macedon Ranges’ mystical Hanging Rock with a llama is good for your soul. No, really…

“Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm," hums Jaro in a melodic B-flat, I’ve-got-something-important-to-say-sort-of-way.

 

Huge brown eyes with movie star lashes look straight into mine and his banana-shaped fluffy ears twitch back and forth as I make soft cooing sounds.

 

It’s love at first sight. A perfect way to start a 24-hour relationship… with a llama.

 

Domesticated by the Incas thousands of years ago, llamas are one of the oldest animals on the planet. Known as the dolphins of the land, these camelids are whip smart, full of personality and easy to train, as Mark Brindley of Hanging Rock Llama Treks discovered. By saving a llama’s life, he changed his.

 

“When my partner brought home a day-old orphaned cria (baby llama) with a hole in its heart from her veterinarian clinic, I was hooked," says Mark, a retired aircraft engineer turned llama farmer. “Although Yoda only lived six months, she opened me to a new world."

 

Mark now has 15 llamas and recently started offering guided llama trekking within the Victorian Macedon Ranges region.

 

Jaro stands patiently as I learn the art of llama handling.

 

“Before you ask, spit happens," says Mark with a playful chuckle. “But don’t worry, it’s rare and only a llama to llama thing."

 

The thought of being in the middle of a llama drama and sprayed with green slime is a tad off-putting, however Jaro and his mates already have the herd hierarchy worked out.

 

“Just make sure you give them their own space."

 

After weighing each saddle-bag loaded with our camping gear, food and wine, clothing, and llama essentials like a pooper scooper, tether ropes and ‘llama lollies’ (pellets), we head to Hanging Rock Reserve.

 

Leading a llama is like taking an oversized well-trained dog for a walk, except I soon find they only have two speeds – stop and llama pace. Each step Jaro takes is slow, deliberate and strong.

 

It’s easy to see why these sure-footed, well-natured animals are revered as pack animals. Even weighing in at 160 kilograms they’re kind on the environment.

 

“A llama leaves less of a footprint than our hiking boots," says Mark.

 

We meander the labyrinth of undulating trails lined with peppermint and manna gums around Australia’s ‘second’ rock formed six million years ago when lava oozed through a vent in the Earth’s surface.

 

Immortalised in literature, Hanging Rock is as evocative today as it was in Joan Lindsay’s novel and Peter Weir’s film Picnic at Hanging Rock, the haunting tale of the disappearance of a group of school girls here on Valentine’s Day in 1900.

 

(MORE… Picnic at Hanging Rock – fact of fiction?)

 

Jaro occasionally cuddles into my neck and sniffs my pockets for ‘llama lollies’. Chris, my travel companion is envious. She doesn’t bond as quickly with Warrego, the tallest and most aloof of the trio. “Llamas can be more like cats than dogs," says Mark.

 

For afternoon tea we lazily snack on chocolate brownies and banana cake, sipping tea while the llamas chomp on grass and snatch mouthfuls of pine needles.

 

As camping isn’t permitted in the reserve, we load the llamas onto a horse float and drive half-an-hour to a ‘pet friendly’ camping ground in the tiny village of Blackwood on the edge of Lerderderg State Park.

 

With great hilarity and wide-eyed llamas watching on, we manage to pitch the tents before darkness shrouds us.

 

Dinner is a fine camp fire affair – nibbles with a local pinot gris, lamb curry (Mark’s secret recipe) with all the trimmings, followed by sticky date tart.

 

As we snuggle into the sleeping bags, our four-legged friends kush down (sit) as sentinels behind the tents. Their hums and snuffles are like a lullaby and I’m asleep within seconds.

 

Our six-kilometre hike the following morning is a challenge. Narrow tracks criss-cross the old gold mining trails. This is new territory for Jaro but nothing fazes him. He carefully picks our path, up and down the rocky hills – confident, steady, grounded. He has my complete trust.

 

Instead of my usual hurried pace, I’m totally in the moment. I feel the breeze touch my face, listen to the swish of the leaves and each note of a kookaburra’s laughter.

 

Jaro’s humming becomes my ‘om’. It sure beats a colouring book.

 

The details: Hanging Rock Llama Treks, Victoria

Getting there: Hanging Rock is a 60-minute drive north-west of Melbourne.

 

Playing there: Mark offers a number of llama experiences ranging from kids’ parties on his farm to day hikes along a rail trail with a pub lunch to overnight camping treks. The price for the overnight experience is $130 per person including camping gear, food, wine and lollies for the llamas. hangingrockllama.com.au

 

Staying there: If you don’t fancy sleeping in a tent, ‘The Caboose’ at Hanging Rock Reserve is a beautifully restored railway carriage (sleeps two). Contact Garry and Kate Marks on 0418394984.

 

MORE… Finished exploring Victoria by hoof and ready to take to the air? Vintage flight – hot air ballooning Yarra Valley style

This luxe trawler tour is redefining Victoria’s seafood experience

Victoria’s ‘mussel capital’ is the source of exceptional shellfish used by top chefs far and wide. Step aboard a beautifully refurbished trawler to see how these plump and juicy bivalves are sustainably cultivated.

A curtain is slowly winched from the placid, teal waters just off Portarlington , like a floating garland beside our boat. The ropes heave with blue mussels, the star attraction of our tour. But as we reach to pluck our own, it’s quickly clear they’re not alone; a mass of weird and wonderful creatures has colonised the ropes, turning them into a living tapestry. ‘Fairy’ oysters, jelly-like sea squirts, and tiny, wriggling skeleton shrimp all inhabit this underwater ecosystem.

We prize our bivalve bounty from the ropes, and minutes later the mussels arrive split on a platter. The plump orange morsels are served raw, ready to be spritzed with wedges of lemon and a lick of chilli as we gaze out over the bay. They’re briny, tender and faintly sweet. “This wasn’t originally part of the tour,” explains Connie Trathen, who doubles as the boat’s cook, deckhand and guide. “But a chef [who came onboard] wanted to taste the mussels raw first, and it’s now become one of the key features.”

A humble trawler turned Hamptons-style dreamboat

inspecting bivalve bounty from the ropes
Inspecting the bounty. (Image: Visit Victoria/Hannyn Shiggins)

It’s a crisp, calm winter’s day, and the sun is pouring down upon Valerie, a restored Huon pine workhorse that was first launched in January 1980. In a previous life she trawled the turbulent Bass Strait. These days she takes jaunts into Port Phillip Bay under the helm of Lance Wiffen, a fourth-generation Bellarine farmer, and the owner of Portarlington Mussel Tours . While Lance has been involved in the fishing industry for 30-plus years, the company’s tour boat only debuted in 2023.

holding Portarlington mussels
See how these plump and juicy bivalves are sustainably cultivated.

It took more than three years to transform the former shark trawler into a dreamy, Hamptons-esque vessel, with little expense spared. Think muted green suede banquettes, white-washed walls, Breton-striped bench cushions, hardwood tables, bouquets of homegrown dahlias, and woollen blankets sourced from Waverley Mills, Australia’s oldest working textile mill. It’s intimate, too, welcoming 12 guests at most. And yet there’s nothing pretentious about the experience – just warm, down-to-earth Aussie hospitality.

As we cruise out, we crack open a bottle of local bubbles and nibble on the most beautifully curated cheese platter, adorned with seashells and grey saltbush picked from the water’s edge that very morning. Australasian gannets soar overhead, and I’m told it’s not uncommon for guests to spot the odd seal, pod of dolphins, or even the occasional little penguin.

The sustainable secret behind Victoria’s best mussels

blue mussels off Portarlington
Blue mussels sourced just off Portarlington.

Connie and Lance both extol the virtues of mussels. They’re delicious. A lean source of protein and packed with omega-3 fatty acids, vitamin B12, iron, selenium, and zinc. They’re cooked in a flash (Connie steams our fresh harvest with cider and onion jam). And they’re also widely regarded as one of the most sustainable foods in the world.

Portarlington mussels with lemon and chilli
Mussels served with lemon and chilli.

“Aquaculture is [often] seen as destructive, so a lot of our guests are really surprised about how environmentally friendly and sustainable our industry is,” Lance says. “[Our mussels] would filter 1.4 billion litres of water a day,” he adds, explaining how mussels remove excess nitrogen and phosphorus from the water. “And through biomineralisation, we lock carbon into mussel shells.”

a hand holding a Portarlington mussel
Mussels are a sustainable food.

Despite their glowing list of accolades, these molluscs have long been seen as the oysters’ poorer cousins. “It was a really slow start,” explains Lance, who says that in the early days of his career, “you could not sell mussels in Victoria”.

But word has slowly caught on. Chefs as globally acclaimed as Attica’s Ben Shewry and even René Redzepi of Noma, Denmark, have travelled to these very waters just to try the shellfish at the source, sharing only the highest praise, and using Lance’s mussels in their restaurants.

guests sampling Portarlington mussels onboard
Sampling the goods onboard. (Image: Visit Victoria/Hannyn Shiggins)

According to Lance there’s one obvious reason why the cool depths of Portarlington outshine other locations for mussel farming. “The water quality is second to none,” he says, noting how other regions are frequently rocked by harvest closures due to poor water quality. “We grow, without a doubt, some of the best shellfish in the world.” And with Lance’s bold claims backed up by some of the industry’s greatest names, perhaps it won’t be much longer until more Aussies uncover the appeal of Portarlington’s mussels.