Now I've been to Hepburn Springs

Hepburn Springs – now there’s a darling little place that hasn’t changed in years. And you know my thoughts on gratuitous change, don’t you?

Christmas was such a tiring time for me – oh, it always is. What, with all my charity work and what have you. I spent three long hours down at the mission with my arms elbow deep in fruit mince, making little mince pies for the poor. It was such a chore. But we all have to do our bit and I must say though, the half dozen pies I baked were the best I’d ever tasted. Everyone said so. I just get such a warm feeling out of helping.

But I was so exhausted, I desperately needed some inspiration to restore my tired old body and spirit. And then I remembered – the old bath house at Hepburn Springs – gorgeous. How perfect it would be to ‘take the waters’ again. It’s been at least 40 years since I was there and I remember it all so fondly. Cute little red-tiled building, mineral spas bubbling from little rusty pipes sticking out of the ground and wide, green open lawns. Oh yes, and that gorgeous pool filled with the rusty brown water and all those European type people ‘taking the waters’, being healed of whatever ails them. And that dear little town. I had to go.

So there I was driving the old Merc up the Ballarat Road past all those western suburbs through Bacchus Marsh. I fumbled around with my cassettes and found one of a young Canadian man called kd lang – beautiful photo on the front and oh, he has such a sweet, sweet voice, the likes of which I hadn’t heard since Wayne Newton’s heyday. I had my cassette player on volume level three – just gorgeous, even if he can’t use capital letters.

Once past Ballan, we turned off the highway, into the countryside and through that strange little place called Korweinguboora. What an odd name for a town! It had one pub and a pothole, so we kept going through to Daylesford where things are a little more tasteful. Up and over the hill into the town and it was busy, so busy - there were so many cars I wondered if I was in the country at all. All the shops looked very smart though, I must admit. If I had to describe the town of Daylesford I’d say that it was like Chapel Street with just a hint of gum boot. Pretty enough though, I thought. I looked at a curious building on the left and thought I read the words Franger and Franger written in rusted old wrought iron but on closer inspection I realised it was Frango and Frango. I think it was some sort of restaurant or cafe but I couldn’t stop to explore, pets. I was a woman on a mission – I had to get to the spa baths.

As I drove through into Hepburn my keen sense of observation spied the gorgeous Belinzona on my right, the old Macaroni factory on my left, the Savoy, the Palais and a darling little general store, just before you come to grand old dame – The Hepburn Springs Hotel down the street, a little on the left. It’s all so compact and pretty. I really wanted to stop and investigate but my aching body was crying out for a relaxing dip in the mineral waters.

It was like the old Merc know exactly where to go – down the hill and around the bend to the right. There we were pets - right in front of the Hepburn Springs Mineral Spa.

Oh dear God. What was this? An extremely modern looking building with soaring glass walls and cantilevered roof lines right were the spa pool should have been. Modern, totally modern. I knew I was in the right place because of the signs but what was this ghastly looking thing doing here in the middle of dear, sweet old Hepburn? There’s just no place for modern in Hepburn. None at all. I was a little miffed I must say, Pets. It was like I was looking at that absolutely revolting thing they call the Convention Centre down by the Yarra, or that mess of a thing they call the museum next to that gorgeous Exhibition Building in Carlton. Oh it was gosh – all shards and blades. In Hepburn!

“Now Winnie...” I said to myself as I parked the old Merc over two parking spots so that no one would scratch my duco with their car doors, “...keep an open mind”. I picked up my overnight bag from the boot of the car and walked down a little ramp into the glass cathedral. It had a reception desk of all things – just like a hotel. I marched right up to the sweet young thing behind the counter and asked for directions. “Hello Pet, I’m Mrs Baygo and I’ve come all the way from South Yarra to take the waters. Can you help me with directions to the pool please dear” I said.

Lovely little thing, she was. She said that I was in the right place and handed me what looked like a menu. “No Pet, I’m not here to eat, I just wasn’t a little dip – take the waters”

“This is our range of treatments” she said pointing to the ‘menu’ thing.

“Treatments?”

I looked further at the brochure and found the entire experience so confusing I was starting to get one of my heads. All these foreign terms like Hepburn Collection, La Gaia, Thalgo, Sodashi, Indulgent Bathing, Private Mineral Baths, Body Exfoliation, Cocoon, Aquatic Glow Awakening and Smooth Revival.


“Pet” I tried to convince this sweet little thing. “I just want to swim”


“Certainly” she said, recognising my seniority and status. “I’d recommend the Sanctuary”

“Perfect, dear, thank you”

I reached into my upper undergarment and handed over two fifty dollar notes, receiving change of thirty – it’s quite expensive to swim here these days, I thought. The pretty young things ushered me down some highly polished stairs to another reception area where I was issued with a sweet little grey bag containing a gorgeous fluffy robe and a nicely laundered towel. “Now, if you’d just direct me to the ladies changing room dear, I’ll be on my way”

“The room is unisex and just over there to your left” She said.

“I BEG YOUR PARDON!”

She explained that there were individual private changing booths inside the room but that the room was in fact shared between men and women. “ Oh no, I’ll not have any of that”

I had no option, pets. I had to change in an area where gentlemen are present. This was not good enough. But then again I said to myself. “Winnie. Be daring – that’s what travel’s all about”

Clutching my overnight bag and the little bag the girl gave me close to me person I ventured into the room. There were men and woman in various stages of undress. I averted my eyes and hoped all in the room would do the same. Immediately, I jumped in to one of the changing boxes that looked remarkably like a toilet cubicle, without the porcelain ware, or a dressing room in a boutique. I took several deep breaths, made sure the door was tightly snibbed and disrobed after selecting one of my three bathing costumes – the blue, I thought. Thank goodness for the robe, is all I could think.

Oh, I didn’t think that I could still scurry pets, but scurry I did in my white Birkenstocks and robe – straight from the cubicle, past a man in his little yellow bathers, which the young folk refer to as Budgie Smugglers (I’m not familiar that particular brand of swimwear, but I certainly know what they look like) right out of that room to the pool area.

I felt a lot more comfortable once I was surrounded by water and people of my own kind. Bravely, I hung my robe on a peg, popped on my bathing cap, slipped off my sandals and tottered down the long ramp into the pool. Gorgeous – wet, cool and gorgeous. I could feel the miracle powers of the waters doing their magic already. The pool was long enough for me to swim a couple of laps breast stroke, keeping my head above water all the time, of course. The handful of people in the pool had different coloured plastic wristbands to mine. Mine allowed me access to other little pleasures such as the area I called the bubble pool. You see, I bought the sanctuary package, not the cheap one.

Now the bubble pool was a real experience. Let me tell you about it. It’s a smallish pool, full of pure mineral spring water but what makes it different is that it has these darling little beds in it, just below the water’s surface. There was no one in it, so, being intrepid, I took the plunge. I manoeuvred myself along the pool to one of these strange looking metallic beds which resembled the banana lounges we had on our terrace when Harold and I had the big house. Up I popped and lay there, letting the water gently lap about my person when a voice came from behind saying “I’ll turn it on for you”.

Oh dear God, what happened next was well, exhilarating? No. It was more than that. It was gorgeous.

Immediately, the entire pool started to gurgle and shake with millions of bubbles being shot from holes underneath my bed. Honestly Pets, it was like I was in a Simpson Delta 10 on spin cycle, but really very pleasant. With all these bubbles shooting onto my person, I could feel all the tensions and strain being effervesced right from my body. I imagined myself as a sliver of lemon, bobbing in the tiny Schweppes bubbles of a frosty G&T. Oh how beautiful. Before too long the millions of tiny bubbles started filling my swimsuit and I ballooned up to the ghastly shape of hippo. Oh it was just so funny. Hysterical. I pushed down on the fabric of my costume and the expelling air made an extremely unattractive sound but it didn’t matter – there was no one else in the pool – no, just me.

I lay there being bubble pummelled and moving into different positions allowing the fizz to hit different and unusual parts of my person. Some positions were quite confronting, I have to say, and I found one or two to be particularly, oh, what’s the word I’m looking for, pleasurable. Oh, I do believe I went into another world there for a minute.

An hour and a half of bobbing about in all sorts of pools and steam rooms and I was starting to look a little like a little steamed pork bun that you buy in those Chinese take away shops and that’s not a particularly attractive look for a girl of my vintage. I walked out of the pool back into the unisex changing room, showered in the ladies section, dried my hair and popped on my sundress in one of those little cubicles. I waited in the changing room watching all the men and women in various states of undress while I gathered all my belongings in to my overnight bag. I felt like a new woman – all fizzed, relaxed and ready to take on the world again. Just delightful.

I sat in the driver’s seat of the old Merc and actually had a little snooze before heading off back in to town to the Springs Hotel where I remembered they served a particularly fine G&T around five o’clock.

My Travel Diary

Look, it’s not that far to Hepburn Springs and there’s a lot of pretty little shops to root around in at Daylesford – gorgeous really. Once you get past the modernity of the spa complex, it’s really quite a pleasant place - I’d recommend it. Especially the bubble pool. But if you go through the week and avoid weekends, it’s half price. That’s even better don’t you think?