The main story, of course, lies in the gold-rush of the 1800s - an event that established Arrowtown and shaped it into the living miners' monument it is today. Whilst the meticulous restoration and maintenance of the town centre instantly creates a bygone ambience, Arrowtown's golden history is documented nowhere better than in the Lakes District Museum.Located on Buckingham Street, the museum itself has a story behind it - having been originally set up in the billiards room of the local Ballarat Hotel in 1948. After six years, the burgeoning museum was moved to the former Bank of New Zealand building - a relic in its own right, built in 1875 - gifted to the community expressly for housing the museum.
The modest entry fee ($6 per adult; $1 per child or $12 per family) leads me into the dim entrance hall where, within five paces, I've learnt everything I never knew I wanted to know about gold: gold's chemical symbol, Au, derives from the Latin word 'aurum' which relates to the Roman goddess of the dawn, Aurora; Egyptians were using gold 4,500 years ago for dentistry; and gold reached its highest price in 1980 at USD$870 /ounce.
At risk of developing gold-fever at this early stage of my adventure, I take some time out to learn about other, less-pricey rocks documented in the museum's simple geology section, and study the intricately crafted opium-smoking tools of the Chinese miners. As I browse the glass-cased artefacts and circle a mighty 1890s phaeton (horse-drawn, four-wheeled carriage), the small warren-like rooms of the museum are filled with the eerie, floating music and native bird calls of a film playing on the back wall.As I descend the stairs, the light grows dimmer and the air cooler. The film's narrator reads a chillingly long list of men who died before their time, whilst working to stay alive: "Stan Brown, 20, drowned; David Williams, 21, drowned; William Barker, 29, buried by rubble; John Smith, 24, drowned ..." Straight ahead, a mannequin of one such man appears, spookily frozen in time, working the mines. Surrounded by dusty schist and bronzed tussock, the man and his heavy, rusting tools appear extant and ghost-like at once. I'm sure his eyes are following me as I quickly sneak past into the next room.
Finding myself in the cool, dingy replica office of the Arrow Observer newspaper, I breathe in sweet, musty air and marvel at the enormous printing press. The news media has almost as long a history as the gold in this area, with the Lake Wakatipu Mail first published in 1863, followed by the Arrow Observer in 1871.
The lonely click of my shoes on the scuffed wooden floor suddenly changes as I cross onto the cool, dusty concrete of an inviting replica township. To a backdrop of street noises, and rooster calls, I'm affronted by a black, menacing carriage. Its enormous wheels cast spider-web shadows on the floor as it sits, waiting eternally, in the coach builder's workshop.Across the 'street', the school house comprises neat rows of wooden forms, a tidy fireplace and simple teaching aids. The chalkings on the board suggest the children have just popped out for a break from lessons, and yet, simultaneously, I feel as if I'm the first person to step into this room for a hundred years.
Snooping around the bakery and joinery, you're bound to also discover the lavatory. If you're nosy like me, you'll peek inside - just be prepared for a surprise; it was enough to make me scurry back upstairs, chuckling to myself, heading for the exit!Back in the brightness of 2007, the carriages may have been replaced with shimmering 4WDs, and the cries of roosters with the constant digital 'click' of cameras, but Arrowtown is secure in the knowledge that its most valuable treasure - its past - is safely stowed away in the Lakes District Museum.
