Bang on the border of NSW and Queensland, she's not exactly a heavily guarded passport-presenting border crossing you've got here. In fact, thank God for the sign, coz there's nothing else telling you anything momentous is happening on the map.
And isn't that a good thing. You can devote all your time to the soul of this tiny desert-bound outpost - the Royal Mail Hotel. It's an absolute classic, this one. You know you're in for something a bit different when you're greeted outside the pub by the two old pensioners who've been waiting for the bus for, oh, about fifteen years.
Inside the pub's tiny front bar, you'll be made to feel right at home by publican, Graham Fitch. Graham reckons they're always up to some sort of mischief out here and chances are they'll try and get you involved too. Before you've downed too many refreshing beverages, try your hand at the pin-the-note-on-the-ceiling challenge; chances are your attempts won't fill the gaps any time soon.
You'll be assured of a comfy bed and home cooked meal at prices that are going to make you smile. You might be sharing your shower with a little band of local frogs but show me an outback bathroom that doesn't offer such harmless companionship whilst you're scrubbing off your red dirt. They probably haven't seen anything quite like you before, so just get over it and let them sit there in peace.
Whilst we're on the subject of sitting there in peace, frogs love toilet bowls so don't invite them in by leaving the bloody lid up when you've finished, OK? Make sure you call Graham and book a room before you get here, then just buzz the pub as you're overhead, and he'll make sure someone comes out to pick you up.