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Bellingen is a very pretty, courteous town at the foot of Dorrigo Mountain. We picnicked in a park under huge trees that fed my liking for the photo-opportunities of bark.
 
The main street had flourishing herbs in pots as its street planting, contrasting with Warsaw's chrysanthemums, and old buildings beautifully preserved and sometimes repurposed.
 
 
The municipal buildings were hidden behind lushness: flowers and foliage.
 
 
Window-dressing reached imaginative heights: flying books, large paper roses, a floor covered in scrunched up pages and a banner expressing the reader's main delight.
 
 
Our only complaint was a pub that wanted us to take our bottle of wine to bed at 8 o'clock.

 

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