Voice of Real Australia is a regular newsletter from ACM, which has journalists in every state and territory. Today's is written by The Courier editorial trainee Gwen Liu.
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"You will meet the real Victoria in Ballarat," my former boss said to me before I left Melbourne.
February 5, a Monday morning, was my first day at The Courier, the local newspaper for the state's third-largest city.
Google maps told me bus 25 had already left. I'd ordered an Uber 10 minutes ago.
My first ride was cancelled by the driver. The second driver, Lakhwinder, was 18 kilometres away. I pressed cancel. The third ride was Lakhwinder again.
A taxi drove past me. The last time I opened the 13 Cabs app was at Airlie Beach in The Whitsundays, where there are no Ubers.
The bus Google told me had already left slowly pulled in as I got into the cab. The sky started to pour with rain as we entered the first roundabout.
My regional adventure had officially started.
On the big screen, there are plenty of stories about small town girls moving to big cities to chase their dreams.
I was doing the opposite.
Living by the numbers
"It's a very small town," my housemate who, like me, came from one of the world's largest cities, laughed.
Australia is home to about 27 million people. Shanghai, where I grew up, is 1000 times physically smaller than Australia but has a population of about 25 million.
All of Ballarat's 113,763 residents would just fill the MCG where Taylor Swift performed her first Australian Eras Tours shows.
A car-driven life
Sitting at my Courier desk, I started a to-do list; booking a driving lesson was my first priority.
I've had a driver's licence since I was 18, but I don't drive that much.
Complex roads, costly fines, limited parking and convenient public transport - there were too many reasons to keep me away from cars in big cities.
Now, I cannot avoid it anymore.
In Ballarat buses run every half hour with erratic arrival times. Ride-hailing apps are useless during rush hour on weekdays.
There is a green pushbike sitting unused at the entrance to my shared townhouse. My housemate bought it soon after moving to Ballarat.
Cycling back and forth to Wendouree, the beauty of Victoria Park kept her going for three weeks before she called a car dealer.
"It's hard to get around without a car here," she said.
When the sun goes down
There is a famous song called Shanghai at Night.
"Night in Shanghai, night in Shanghai, you are a city that never sleeps. Bright lights, the car sounds, peaceful and prosperous song and dance," the lyrics go.
A Melbourne friend handed me a bunch of glow sticks before I moved and said, "Take them to Ballarat. They will work well there."
She is right.
It was 10pm when my housemate left Regent Cinemas in the city centre.
Lively pubs on Lydiard Street reminded me briefly of life on Melbourne's Swanston Street, bustling with noise.
A few turns later, we drove into darkness and silence. The only shimmering light in the distance was from McDonald's.
And the stars above.