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Overhanging eucalypts enshroud small cottages with bullnose verandas, their foliage obscuring faded Tibetan prayer flags. Across the street, cement retaining walls slope uncomfortably towards the footpath, impatiens and cocktail ferns commandeering their cracks and crevices. Under an old carport overtaken by passionfruit vines stands a table holding drinks & cold dishes – a subtle indication it was definitely too warm to cook. A refreshing green tea is served, with notes of kiwi and tropical fruits so splendid, nobody will even notice you forgot the pavlova.
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