Whenever I drive the Yowie-mobile towards Araluen, I always feel like I'm about to enter another world. A magical one.
Maybe it's the pot-holed road that winds its way deep down into the valley. Maybe it's the fact you leave all the coast traffic behind in Braidwood. People actually want to be here - they aren't passing through. Or perhaps it's the mist that shrouds the higher peaks that circle the valley - hiding secrets of the bygone gold rush years of the mid-late 1800s.
