This was published 9 years ago
Bonnie Doon's Lake Eildon: How's the serenity?
It is the quintessential Australian holiday retreat, made famous in the film The Castle. Bonnie Doon's main attraction is Lake Eildon. And – of course – all that serenity. Words and Pictures: Justin McManus
By Justin McManus
"You just can't escape the serenity," exclaims Marg Swifte, as she reclines in her chair, wine in hand, in front of her festively lit caravan in the Bonnie Doon caravan park. She and hubby Ron are relaxing in their al fresco dining area, shooting the breeze with friend Peter Fryers and anyone else who comes into earshot.
"The place runs on serenity. You just can't get away from it," she continues. "We're of the age where we should be travelling around with the rest of the grey nomads, but we've been coming here for 35 years and just can't break the habit."
It's hard to say if the serenity has always been a big drawcard for holidaymakers at Bonnie Doon. Certainly for a couple of locals, Bill Maxwell and Hugh Almond, it used to be far more serene. Hugh, a fifth-generation local and farrier with a keen eye for racehorse flesh (his kitchen walls are lined with photographs of all his winners), tells me, "It used to be a quiet, friendly place. Now it's just a tourist town, full of people in a hurry."
It's hard to argue with his sentiment; at times during our conversation it's hard to hear over the insistent buzzing of jet-skis on the lake.
The iconic Australian film The Castle first put Bonnie Doon on the map. It was the Kerrigan family's holiday destination. They were the only people they knew who had a holiday home, and they considered themselves the luckiest family in the world.
Father Darryl would endlessly wonder at the serenity of Bonnie Doon; "There's so much serenity," he would say. The shack is still there, at number 3491 Maintongoon Road, and remains a curiosity for tourists. But it seems to have entered the ultimate state of serenity and has been uninhabited since it was put up for sale last November.
Since the movie, holidaymakers have travelled in increasing numbers to bathe in Bonnie Doon, and once is never enough for most people. Wilma Wailes, who has been coming to the campground for 45 years, will testify to this, as she tackles another giant jigsaw puzzle in the relative coolness of her caravan flyover.
"In the early years we camped in tents near by the water's edge and it was just simple leisurely fun."
Her family continued to come throughout the drought years, when the lake was completely dry: "We didn't care, it's about relaxing and spending time with family."
It seems many of the attractions enjoyed by the Kerrigans, such as the leisurely pace of life and spending time with family in beautiful surroundings, are the same qualities that draw many of the holidaymakers today.
Wilma insists I visit next door, where her daughter and son-in-law, Wendy and Lance Morton, have their van. As we enter the van "Mort", as Lance is affectionately called, is flat-out on the couch watching the cricket on TV while pondering his arvo "poppy nap".
I ask him how the serenity is treating him, and he imparts an anecdote from the previous day, when Wendy asked his plans for the day.
"What are you doing today Mort?"
"Nothing," he told her.
"You did that yesterday," Wendy pointed out.
"Yeah I know, but I haven't finished yet," Mort insisted.
As the oppressive heat and humidity of the January afternoon envelops the town, activities around the lake slow down. The serenity seems at its most potent at this time of day; life withdraws into the shade and the dreamy world of "poppy and nanna naps".
Business at the Oasis Roadhouse comes to a standstill. Shopkeeper Mel Cummins, sitting alone among the empty dining tables, suggests serenity isn't always a great thing for business. Outside, teenagers prop on dining tables looking dour and uninspired. The heat, they say, is causing all this serenity.
After a day on the water, the Webber family has retreated to the shade of their verandah. A family with a 45-year connection to the place, today three generations have gathered at their holiday house – another dynasty of serenity addicts who can't kick the habit. Grandad Barry Webber jokes, "It's bloody lovely until the grandkids turn up, the serenity's straight out the window then!"
By early evening the blistering sting of the sun is on the wane and the holidaymakers are out again. Robyn Hayes and Kerryn Cooke are lounging by the side of the lake with a cool drink and a relaxed air. "We come and sit and just soak up the beautiful surrounds, the hills, the lake, the sounds, and let it all wash over us."
As night sets in a rowdy mob of youngsters are down at the lake's edge playing night cricket lit by car headlights. The music is rocking out, the boys and girls are getting together, and when asked about the serenity one rebellious youth replies "F--k the serenity!" Clearly it's not for everyone.
As I wander back to my hotel in the late evening, with a slight coolness descending over the town and the scent of summertime on the breeze. I reflect back in a melancholic moment to Marg Swifte's remark, "You just can't escape the serenity."
My thoughts then drift on, and I ponder Darryl Kerrigan's observation that there is "So much serenity", and conclude, this is probably the reason why you just can't escape it.
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