It's not. It's where boring people go to die.
For Brits that frequent Blackpool you might recognise the main strip; crappy café after crappy café complete with wobbly Formica tables, laminated menus and unoriginal names scrawled in fluorescent colours.
From here you can look out onto Australia's most boring beach as you sip tepid pints from the Irish bar or down a heart attack in a glass - also known as an 'iced mocha.'
Sure, it's one of the main gateways to Fraser Island, the national park with clear freshwater lakes and untouched rainforests.
And yes, through July to October it has one of the best views for migrating humpback whales.
But this doesn't help Hervey Bay.
And neither do the window displays.
It's a place where the only extreme sport is sleeping in a hot room.
It's where my husband threatened to walk into the sea and never turn around.
It's the first time I've doubted Lonely Planet.
Woah.
Now, don't get me wrong. Without it as a guide I probably wouldn't have found all of my favourite parts of East Coast Australia.
But I guess we should all take a moment to think about the person that had to write this particular chapter of the guidebook. They'd been given the task of filling over five pages with the joys of caravan parks, idiot jet skiers and 'youthful anticipation.'
My advice: make your stay in Hervey Bay a brief one.
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