Last weekend, I was whisked away. Yes, whisked away from my humdrum existence by a dashing hero on horseback. Okay, let me qualify that. First, my existence is far from humdrum, but I (we) hadn't been away for ages and really needed a break from "the building site". Second, he was driving a Citroen, not a white charger. But he's still dashing enough for me.
And the fairytale destination? Bangalow - that prettiest of pretty little north coast New South Wales towns. Who needs Paris when there's this romantic little getaway so close to home? Why look - the pavements are scattered with rose petals.


Bangalow. It has always felt strangely like home. Something about the place. Sometimes wonder why I never settled there. Every time I visit, I leave a teensy bit of heart behind, just to remind me to come back. And when I do, I come back to the Bangalow Hotel, with its 1930s brick walls and frosted glass doors and Art Deco curves. The accommodation may not be 4-star, but who needs an ensuite in a pub with only four rooms? Once across the threshold I'm settled in as though I own the place - in a fat velvet armchair by a crackling fire in winter, or on the back deck under the Bangalow palms on a steamy summer's night.
The pub grub is damn fine, too. (For a start, they can make a perfect chip - sadly, something of a feat these days). In recent years, they've extended the old deck into a rather posh a-la-carte restaurant, but the locals and I tend to stick to the more democratically-priced original. Funnily enough, the food comes from the same kitchen.  

After dinner, there's always time for a quiet nightcap on the upstairs balcony. These days I'm kind of partial to the rooms with street view. Since the highway by-pass, trucks no longer scream their way through the town. Nothing but the stars above, the birds at eye level in the trees, and the village nightlife below.


Next morning, it's just a quick dash across the rose petals to Utopia Cafe, the very chic and spacious restaurant next door for breakfast.
Hmmmm, let's see now ... bacon and eggs? In Bangalow they're justifiably proud of their famous Bangalow pork - it sits centre stage in the butcher's window, and features on almost every menu. But it's always a treat to spot something different, so I went straight for the banana with black sticky rice, coconut milk and palm sugar caramel. It was heavenly. I believe (and remember, this is a Queensland girl talking) it may have been the best banana I've had in my life. Can't believe I'm still banging on about it.

And all this with a charming view across the green fields to the weekly farmer's market (hence the rose petals). Bangalow is all about quality over quantity. And theirs is a real grower's market: the beekeeper with their honey; the coffee grower with their coffee; the salad grower with their greens - you get the picture. Locals strolling around and chatting and buying their food at a market that is for them first and tourists second.
I love Eumundi - but how I wish its markets could be run on a similarly "less is more" principle.

Surrounded as it is by some of the lushest dairy country in Australia, Bangalow bears all the hallmarks of a wealthy town. The tree-lined main street is flanked with the elegant solidity of 19th century brick architecture. Old bank buildings stand tall and proud. Substantial shop fronts are edged with patinated copper detailing, their windows beautifully arranged with all things alluring, unique and quirky. Oodles of class, yet little pretention. Happily, the doughty CWA ladies, and their display of handmade aprons and tea cosies, still maintain their stronghold in the centre of town.

On this visit, I seem to have been too dreamily preoccupied with wandering to take many pics. Apart from this shot of the extremely photo-worthy Red Ginger: a little jewel of a shop, impeccably fitted out as a traditional Chinese teahouse, and stocked with richly glazed ceramics, embroidered velvet slippers, vibrant enamelware, and all the accoutrements you'd need for delicious tea and yum cha.
(A somewhat wistful glimpse of an ancient and beautiful China - the pre plastic toys, polyester clothing and cheap electronica era).


Please stop me someone. Okay, before you do, a short list of some favourite Bangalow things:

• Barebones Artspace: Inviting and uninhibiting little gallery established in 1994. Lots of interesting, quality and affordable local artworks.
• Milton Cater Oriental Carpets: Hesitate to use the cliched "Alladin's Cave", but nothing else conjurs it up. Walls and floors thick with exquisite - and genuine - handmade rugs. (And sold - or rather, curated - by someone who really knows what he's talking about.)
• Heath's Old Wares: Antiques and collectables barn behind the pub offering endless browsing pleasure. Packed to the rafters (really) with old tools, industria, kitchenalia, architectural antiques ... and behind the long counter, a very impressive, somewhat precarious-looking wall of treadle sewing machine drawers.
• And of course, just about every cafe and restaurant in town.

Oh there's so much more to this wonderful place, but I really have to stop now.
I'm not leaving it another two years to go back. And next time I'm taking more photos.