In the Baptist Church of Ocean Grove on Saturday afternoon there were more people who gave cards to vote than real voters.
They stood in a long row up the asphalt path in the colors of their parties as a honor to the honorary guard who was waiting for a car that never arrived.
The Korangam is one of the most disputed places in the Saturday's election – it is held by Liberal Sarah Henderson.
Serious money was thrown into her campaign. Her face is plastered everywhere from the flags of the river to Barbun's heads to sticks in the hobby and the Wallington cellar and the Leopold highway to Gehlong.
Guardian Australia visited four different electoral polls in voters – none of them had a queue.
A volunteer who handed over to independent Damien Cole said the Belmont pre-inquiry centers were "crowded for a week." One third of the electors were interviewed in advance.
This is the same story in Australia, where four million people voted before the election day.
The consequences of this are as much cultural as logistical and political.
The Melbourne Cup, Anzac's Day, AFL's Big Finals, and the big national moments that connect us – such as dying ex-Prime Minister Bob Hawk – but the election day is really the only day that truly unites Australia.
The big dance of our country – more deserving of the name of every sporting event – because by its nature the compulsory vote is the most comprehensive activity we have in this country.
Every day of the election, we are forced to gather together, despite our differences, and participate in the ongoing project to shape our future. While the vote can be seen as a dull job, there is something exciting about this proposal. On this day we are stronger than the party.
And then it is the day – people from all spheres of life that flow into primary schools and church yards, wait, chat, vote and then stand out in the autumn sun, using democratic sausages. The day provides a rare opportunity to connect with other people outside of your tribe.
But this ritual and its accompanying magic have been diluted this year, with four million less Australians in polling stations on election day due to increased preliminary polls.
In Oakland's Baptist Church, Grove Terry and Ron Patterson explored the lack of crowds of horror.
They have lived in the small coastal community for 42 years and for them the election day has always been of special importance.
Terry says, "This year is very quiet with all the preliminary studies. It was a rather rural atmosphere with people voting in local primary school. I like. You meet people and chat with them in the queue. "
Every election night Pattersons has a party.
"Children remember the party since 1983," Bob will do the job. " It was a great party – so many people out there. We also had a huge party for Kevin 07. In 2007, in our house was a pit pit, there were so many people there. Since then, the parties are not that good. "
Can this also be said for the election day itself?
At the Point Lonsdale polling station, the state fire department sold sausages, but "we are lower than the number of sausages sold," one volunteer said.
At noon in Kooyong's hotly contested headquarters, one voter told Guardian Australia he was "in and out of the polling station for 15 minutes, including getting the sausage."
In the polling stations of Coburg and Brunswick, the queues were long and according to voters, vegetarian sausages were sold out to the primary school in Coburg North before noon and the Halal sausages were exhausted.
There are some choices that change everything. Can this be one of them? The change is here – not so much in the government (though this may happen) – but a change in the way we unite as a nation.