After all the fun and frolics of the past few days, the next few had been ear-marked as ‘driving days’. We needed to get up the coast, and we needed to do it pretty sharpish.
We were aiming for Rockhampton, being about half way between where we were and where we wanted to end up, but once again we were being a little ambitious, so we decided to pull in a little early and do a bit of wild camping at somewhere called Port Alma.
It was just a small dot on the map, and Google Maps didn’t offer up much by the way of information either. But it was there, it had a name, it must be something mustn’t it?
The road to Port Alma didn’t offer much hope. And as we passed the Salt Works,
with not a sign of a dwelling, we started to wonder…
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