I headed into Bendigo with only vague memories of learning about it in school, mostly gold rush history and sepia-toned photos of miners. I wanted to arrive without expectations, to see the place with open eyes and an open mind.
What I found was a regional city that has reinvented itself more than once and wears that reinvention proudly. Bendigo has managed to honour its past, both the polished and the uncomfortable parts, while building something new that still feels deeply connected to its roots.
The old prison, once a place of punishment, is now one of the most striking theatres and event spaces I’ve ever seen. We started the trip there, with a Welcome to Country on the steps of what was once Sandhurst Gaol, now the Ulumbarra Theatre. We walked beneath the place where executions were once carried out, then stepped inside to local wines and canapés. A reminder that history does not have to be erased to be transformed.
The city has also paid deep respect to the Chinese community that helped shape it during the gold rush. The Golden Dragon Museum tells part of that story, and the nearby lotus monument stands as a quiet and beautiful tribute to the many who came here seeking fortune and built something lasting instead.
The ASTW convention began at the Quality Hotel Lakeside before moving to the old gaol and wrapped up with a gala dinner at Mackenzie Hall. Between sessions, I wandered through streets lined with grand gold rush-era buildings that now house wine bars, hotels, and restaurants.
After the convention, I joined a gastronomy tour, which gave me a glimpse into why Bendigo has been named a UNESCO City of Gastronomy. It is not just about good food, although there is plenty of that. It is about how the city connects local producers, chefs, artists, and history into something cohesive and alive.
We started the gastronomy tour at PepperGreen Farm, a social enterprise that grows fresh produce and creates opportunities for people of all abilities. It captures what Bendigo does so well, blending community, sustainability, and good food in a way that feels genuine rather than performative. We wandered through rows of herbs and vegetables before sitting down to taste what they grow. It was a reminder that great food often begins with simple, honest ingredients and a clear sense of purpose.
From there, we dined at Terrae, enjoyed drinks at Wine Bank, stopped in at Ms Batterhams, and found ourselves tucked into Chancery Lane, a narrow laneway filled with murals and colour. The Dispensary sits there quietly among it all, serving up the kind of food and atmosphere that makes you want to stay for another round.
Everywhere you look, there is a conversation between history and reinvention. The city feels grounded yet creative, proud yet welcoming. It has the kind of confidence that only comes from surviving, adapting, and thriving all over again.
I enjoyed my time in Bendigo. It feels like a city that knows exactly who it is and where it’s going, which is something not many places can say.