Everyone’s seen Himalayan pink salt in shops — the big blocks, the grinders, the lamps. It’s become the “fancy” salt. It’s marketed as exotic, ancient, and full of minerals. But here’s something that surprises a lot of people: Australia has its very own pink salt, and its story is just as fascinating — maybe even more so.
On the surface, both salts look similar. They share that beautiful blush of pink, and both end up sprinkled on food all over the world. But geologically, they couldn’t be more different. One comes from ancient underground brines that crystallise into fresh flakes under the Australian sun, while the other is a true fossil — the original crystals of a half-billion-year-old ocean, now locked in stone and uplifted into the Himalayas
So, let’s dive into the story of how these salts formed, why they look the way they do, and how two completely different geological environments ended up producing something that, at first glance, looks almost the same.
The Murray–Darling Basin is one of the world’s largest, flattest river basins, and much of it lies in a semi-arid climate where evaporation far outweighs rainfall. But long ago, it wasn’t like that. Millions of years ago, much of inland Australia was covered by shallow seas. I’ve made a few videos on Australia’s inland seas, so if you’d like to learn more about them check out the links in the description. These inland oceans came and went with rising and falling sea levels, leaving behind sediments rich in salt. Deep beneath the Murray–Darling Basin lies ancient saline aquifers. The water is naturally rich in sodium chloride, but also magnesium, calcium, potassium, iodine, and trace iron.
When the last of these seas drained away, the salt didn’t just disappear. Instead, it lingered in the soils, the sediments, and especially in the underground water. Rocks also weathered and released minerals into the groundwater. And because the Murray Basin doesn’t drain to the sea in the same way as coastal rivers do, all that salt just kept piling up.
If this brine were left to flow into the Murray River, it would worsen salinity problems, harming crops and ecosystems. Instead, producers intercept it, pump it up, and evaporate it in shallow ponds. The result? Murray River Salt flakes: light, delicate crystals with a soft pink blush from those dissolved minerals.
The Murray Basin is essentially a giant bowl, and it’s very bad at flushing things out. Its rivers eventually connect to the Southern Ocean, but they do so very slowly, and the flat landscape doesn’t encourage fast drainage. That means salt builds up in the soils and groundwater.
This is where it connects to Himalayan salt. Both are pink because of minerals. In Murray River’s case, the colour comes from the mineral-rich groundwater brine — magnesium, calcium, potassium, and tiny amounts of iron. In Himalayan salt, the colour is locked into the rock as iron oxides. Here’s a look at Murray River salt. Unlike the deep, rosy tones you often see in Himalayan salt, this one has a much lighter blush — more of a soft peach-pink. But the real difference isn’t just in the colour, it’s in the texture. These flakes are incredibly delicate; they melt almost instantly on your tongue. That fragility is what sets Murray River salt apart, and it makes it a beautiful finishing salt to eat.
So, the cause is the same category — minerals — but the geological stories differ. One comes from ancient brines that are crystallised into new flakes today; the other is a true fossil salt deposit, formed in a vanished ocean and later uplifted into the Himalayas.
Now swing halfway across the globe to Pakistan, on the southern edge of the Himalayas. Here you’ll find the famous Khewra Salt Mine, where Himalayan pink salt is dug out of solid rock.
The salt here is unbelievably old — around 600 million years. That’s before fish, before forests, even before complex life really took off. At that time, this part of the world sat under a shallow sea. The climate was arid, and that sea started drying out in repeated cycles. Each time the water evaporated, it left behind thick layers of salt and other evaporite minerals like gypsum. Over thousands of years, those layers stacked up into an enormous deposit.
Unlike in Australia, this ancient deposit eventually got buried under new sediments and locked away deep underground.
For hundreds of millions of years, the salt just sat there, hidden. Then about 50 million years ago, the Indian plate smashed into the Eurasian plate, and the Himalayas began to rise. That collision didn’t just create Mount Everest — it also folded, faulted, and shoved up the ancient salt beds.
The result was the Salt Range in northern Pakistan, a belt of hills where these old evaporite deposits were thrust up close to the surface. That’s where miners today cut into caves and tunnels to extract the famous pink salt.
The colour is baked into the rock itself. Tiny amounts of iron oxides and other trace minerals are mixed into the salt crystals, giving them that deep, earthy pink to orange colour.
So, we have two salts, both pink, both mineral tinted. But one is fossil, the other fresh. Himalayan salt is a relic of a vanished ocean, half a billion years old, mined from stone. Murray River salt is drawn from living groundwater systems, still forming today under the Australian sun.
Here’s where Murray River salt really surprises people. Pick up a flake between your fingers and it almost crumbles. The crystals are thin, soft, and fragile. This is nothing like the hard, dense grains of table salt or the chunky crystals of Himalayan rock salt.
That delicate structure changes how it feels in food. Because the flakes are airy, you actually get less sodium per spoonful compared to ordinary table salt. The flakes dissolve quickly, so they season food evenly. And the taste? People often describe it as “full-bodied” — it enhances flavour without overpowering it. Where table salt can feel harsh or sharp, Murray River flakes melt into a dish, adding savouriness without leaving a salty bite.
There’s also the fact that Murray River salt products naturally contain a lower sodium level than most salts, simply because those other minerals (magnesium, calcium, potassium, iodine) take up some of the crystal space. For chefs and home cooks, that’s a subtle but useful edge: seasoning power with a softer touch.
Himalayan salt, by contrast, is dense and strong. Grate it onto food and you taste every shard. It’s not bad — plenty of people love the mineral bite — but it’s a very different experience to sprinkling the feathery flakes of Murray River salt across a steak or a salad.
There’s another layer to the Murray River story: harvesting this salt helps manage salinity in the Murray–Darling Basin. By pumping brine from the aquifers before it can reach the river, producers are actively reducing the load of salt entering the system. Every tonne crystallised into gourmet flakes is a tonne that won’t wash into farmland or wetlands.
That means Murray River Salt isn’t just a seasoning — it’s part of Australia’s environmental management strategy. It turns a problem (salty groundwater) into a product (delicate flakes). Himalayan salt, on the other hand, is a finite resource. It’s mined like coal or stone, with no environmental co-benefit.
When it comes to health, neither Murray River salt nor Himalayan salt is a magic bullet — both are still mostly sodium chloride, and too much salt of any kind can raise blood pressure. The main differences are small. Himalayan salt is often marketed as having “84 trace minerals,” but those minerals make up less than 2% of the crystal and aren’t present in amounts that provide real nutritional benefits. Murray River salt flakes, on the other hand, naturally contain a little less sodium than standard table salt because some of the crystal space is taken up by minerals like magnesium, calcium, and potassium. Their delicate flake structure also means you tend to use less by volume without noticing. So, if there’s any edge in the “healthier” debate, it leans slightly toward Murray River salt — but realistically, both should be enjoyed as flavour enhancers, not health supplements.
At first glance, the two salts look the same: pink crystals in a jar. But hold them up to the light, taste them, and hear their stories, and the differences are obvious.
Himalayan salt is the echo of a vanished world — a prehistoric ocean that dried up long before animals had bones. Every crystal is a fossil, a mineral souvenir of deep time, mined out of stone and shipped across the globe.
Murray River salt is alive in a different sense. It’s part of Australia’s ongoing struggle with salinity; a resource pulled from underground to protect a river system. Its colour is the mark of the minerals carried in ancient waters, still cycling through the landscape. And on the plate, its delicate flakes change the way food tastes, adding flavour without the sting of too much sodium.
So, the next time you see pink salt, don’t assume it all comes from the Himalayas. Australia’s Murray River Salt has its own origin story — a story of ancient seas, groundwater, and clever environmental management. One is a fossil ocean; the other is a modern process. One is hard and sharp; the other soft and fragile. One of the benefits of choosing Murray River Salt is that you’re supporting an Australian-owned and operated business that’s not only local but also making a real difference in tackling the country’s salinity problem.
So here we have two salts. Two colours of pink. Two windows into Earth’s history.
And both, in their own way, are proof that geology isn’t just about rocks and mountains — sometimes, it’s about the salt on your plate.