Driving through Castlemaine you might get the impression that it’s just a typical small town in country Victoria. You might see the mural “Welcome to Castlemaine, Street Rod Centre of Australia” at the local petrol station. You might meet Bryan, the fuel station attendant, who seems to know every one of the 7,000 souls in town. You might buy an edition of the Castlemaine Mail that the editor, Jeff Jones, pours his effort into. You might read that paper at The Royal - a popular cafe inside the town’s old theatre - enjoying a coffee made by Ry, barista and part-time musician. Sitting outside the café you have a good chance of meeting Father Wahid as he goes about regular welcoming walks through the town. You might see John and his dog Shelley driving by in one of the vintage utes he has collected over his 80 years, alongside the tonnes of scrap metal in his backyard. You might visit Wesley Hill market and see Jane and her kids shopping for groceries. You might see Wayne selling homemade peanut butter with exotic flavours. You might meet Pixi, dressed as a pirate, who comes to the market every week and walks with such vigour you might wonder about the necessity of his crutches. At some point, you might realise… 

Castlemaine is not like any other town. It’s not the Goldrush history, not the landscape, or the buildings that make the place magnetic. It’s the people. It’s the microcosm of friendships, of relationships, of rumours and passions and talents.