We are now heading towards the rather oddly named Palmers Oakey. The pine trees have given away to open grazing country. The soft mounds of the hills - like the earth is loosely draped in a green cloth.
The road sign says that 30kms hence there is a low lying bridge that becomes impassible in the wet. Well it has been wet but we decide to take the risk. Meanwhile Madam Tom Tom bleats "Turn around."