My mountain suburb Upwey has the Mad Mile. We call the rest of you ‘flatlanders’

Start driving east from Melbourne. Past the inner city, past suburbia and, yes, at some point you may feel like turning back, but please don’t. Things get interesting once you’ve reached the big lyrebird sign signalling “Welcome to Ferntree Gully and the Blue Dandenongs”.

Keep an eye out for the goats that are casually hanging along the train line near Upper Ferntree Gully. They were hired by Metro Trains for their weed control management department. If you’re doing the drive on a weekend, make sure you stop by the Sri Lankan food truck called R&R at The Gully Market. The aunty and uncle who run it make hoppers that are worth the drive alone.

So, by now you would have reached the foothills of the Dandenong Ranges. The 1000-steppers veer left, but turn right, and you’ll find yourself on the Mad Mile, also known as Burwood Highway. It’s technically a 70km/h zone, but many drivers treat it as an audition for the next Fast and Furious film. And then you arrive in Upwey.

Upwey feels different to much of Melbourne. It’s lush, green and picturesque. The mornings come with a soundtrack of different birds, including kookaburras, rainbow lorikeets, rosellas and superb fairy wrens.

Before Upwey, my husband and I lived in an apartment in a suburb in Sydney’s inner-west called Stanmore. Our one-bedder was on a main road, facing a bus stop, next to a train line and under a flight path. There was a point where I was using white noise, block-out blinds and ear plugs just to keep the noise and lights out. After seven years, I thought it was time to move somewhere I didn’t need to keep blocking things out.

Growing up in Donvale and Templestowe, I had always imagined living in the Dandenong Ranges. Mountains, beautiful walks, morning sunshine, watching the rain over a cup of chai. But more than anything, I craved a strong sense of community. Especially if we wanted to grow our family.

I have a theory, and I know it’s a generalisation: the closer you live to the city, the less connection you have with your neighbour. You have less of your own space, your boundary is reduced to your townhouse or apartment. Instead of a backyard with a fence over which you can have a yarn with your neighbour, you share a door and a wall with them. The less space you have, the less likely you’ll want to engage with the person next to you.

In our Stanmore apartment, I could hear the neighbour when they went to the toilet. I was surprised at the ferocity and length of it, and always struggled to keep a straight face when I’d bump into them in the building.

My dream was to have a micro-farm, get fresh chicken eggs and go on hikes. My husband just needed to be on a train line that went straight to the city for work. So we landed on Upwey. We bought some chooks, started a vegie patch and got settled in. We got a free visit from the council’s volunteer gardeners, who taught us all about the local flora and fauna. Never again will I look at jasmine, blackberry, pittosporum or agapanthus the same. They’re all invasive weeds. Oh, and have you ever seen flying termites? And possums – we co-exist with them. Basically, the plants we grow are only for their nourishment, there is nothing they won’t eat.

Upwey-ians are self-claimed “mountain people”. We refer to anyone below the mountain as “flatlanders”, yet we envy those with flat gardens and accessible driveways. Most of us live on near-vertical slopes, where we transform into mountain goats when embarking on any gardening endeavours. Also, this may be why many people don’t leave the area because it costs so much to get a removalist to risk their trucks getting stuck in our sloped and steep driveways.

Upwey has something for everyone. In our quaint village there’s a micropub, pilates, gym, medical centre, mechanic, supermarket and The Angliss Hospital down the road. Thai, Chinese, Indian. Check! Chiro, osteo, pharmacy, laundromat, hairdresser, post office, music shop? Check, check, check! We even have the council’s office in town that we walk over to grab our FOGO bin liners.

One thing Upwey really loves is cafes. Our little village strip is home to several, each bringing its own charm and purpose. I don’t drink, but I enjoy a visit to the Fat Goat micropub, just for vibes’ sake.

I don’t visit the cafes as much as you’d expect. We get free chai from my business, Chai Walli, we’ve got an espresso machine at home, and our chickens supply eggs daily. Our coffee beans are from the local roaster who deliver to most of the mountain people. So, brunch for us is pretty self-sufficient. That said, my sourdough starter, named Doughjit, has been sitting quietly in the fridge since I recently gave birth, so we are not quite operating at full capacity just yet. We should try to plant an avocado tree, though.

I do have a personal prayer for a hot date-night kind of place, though, if anyone wants to open a fancy little dinner place in Upwey. I would guarantee at least one regular customer.

I’ve got the best neighbours in the world. When we moved in, I organised a get-together at the Fat Goat, and attendees ranged from the guy who bought the same house twice, to the lady who, to keep her pack light, hiked the Larapinta trail with only two G-strings. The event was a hoot, and we made it a ritual.

Our neighbours are so friendly that our chickens even visit them without telling us. I’ve had a neighbour help me change my tyre in the rain when I was heavily pregnant. I have three neighbours on rotation who I get mint from. Then there’s a cute older couple who go for a walk every evening holding hands, restoring my faith in humanity. I’ve borrowed so much stuff from people – pressure hose, trestle tables, foldable chairs. I even once asked for a blowtorch to burn weeds in a rock wall area of our garden, but I think that was pushing the limits as my request had no responses.

Upwey is a mixed vibe of elderly people, eclectic folk and young families making the move up to the mountain. I’ve met people who have been living here for 30 to 40 years and others who have recently made the tree change like us. For us, it was a matter of inner-city or Dandenong Ranges, and we chose Upwey for its space, convenience, beauty and nature.

Living in Upwey is a culture in itself. We’re community-driven and we’re willing to give each other a hand. Each time I drive home from the city, I feel a sense of relief and ease when I see those mountains. It feels like I live in a tree house. However, there is a lack of multiculturalism, though that’s a story for another day.

Sure, Upwey is not for everyone. Especially if you don’t like having nice neighbours, access to awesome cafes and don’t want to go on the most picturesque walks in Melbourne.

Uppma Virdi is a lawyer, entrepreneur and founder of Chai Walli.

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