Polling day kicked off at Werri Beach with sunshine, salt air and the kind of chilled community spirit that makes you want to hug a stranger.

There were no democracy sausages in sight (a national scandal, frankly), but the vibe was golden.

Volunteers handed out how-to-vote cards without ambushing anyone.

You could chat, laugh and still feel your personal space intact. I was off to a flying start.

Wandering south, things took a more sombre turn.

Tucked beneath the trees stood the Forest of the Fallen, white silhouettes representing those lost after COVID-19 vaccinations. It was a quiet moment. People slowed. Some stopped. Some looked away.

Whether you agreed with the message or not, it made you think. Democracy is layered like that.

Over in Kiama, the main booth had undergone a personality transplant since pre-poll.

Earlier in the week, it felt like walking into a wind tunnel made of pamphlets. But polling day had a new mood. The circus had left town. Or maybe mellowed.

One standout was Liz Ashcroft, owner of Moist 'n Glazed, who rocked up holding a spoof campaign sign that read Vote 1 Moist ’n Glazed, Candidate for Calories.

She had a box of freshly baked donuts and a grin big enough to win votes on charm alone. The samples were superb. Satire, sugar and local business spirit in one neat bundle.

Kate4Gilmore’s crew brought the cute vote, with tiny dogs in yellow bandannas trotting about like they ran the joint.

And the Liberal corner? Let’s just say a couple of diehard farmer types I’ve known for years were handing out flyers. The day was full of surprises.

And then, the sausage salvation I had been waiting for.

The Uniting Church barbecue was in full swing, expertly run by Rev Kath’s boys, who were turning snags like seasoned professionals.

I arrived late and looking desperate. Fortunately, a long friendship paid off. I scored two sausages and the last of the onions. This, my friends, is the taste of democracy done right.

Then came the grand finale, Jamberoo. The Red Cross stall had sold out by lunchtime.

The Jamberoo P and C barbecue was flat out, thrilled, and sending out extra sausages. But the real scene stealers were the kids.

Next-gen entrepreneurs had set up mini market stalls. One sparkly stand of resin earrings and keyrings caught everyone’s eye.

What started as a post-Christmas craft project had blossomed into a sweet little side hustle.

With her mum’s help, the young maker now crafts joy in pastel and glitter. The customers could not get enough.

And finally, the legends themselves, Betsy’s ballot butterflies. Iconic butterfly cakes with cream centres and fluffy wings, known to vanish within minutes.

One local swears her friend lines up early just to get the first batch.

If elections were judged by dessert, Jamberoo would be in government by now.