Week 24(3rd - 9th September)

Here we are on the doorstep of a City we left three and a half years ago to begin our nomadic life. The hot dry season in the Top End of the Northern Territory, called “Gurrung” by the Aboriginal people, is characterised by cloudless skies and dry winds and for weeks now, the skeletal appearance of the kapok (or cotton) trees with their yellow, tissue paper-like flowers, appearing to be “stuck on” as if in readiness for a girl-guide social, has been the most conspicuous flowering tree along the road.

Kapok (cotton) trees in flower

As we drove in on the Stuart Highway the sight of them triggered our new found knowledge imparted by the ranger at Edith Falls. The Aboriginal people maintain that when in flower the kapok trees indicate it is time for the freshwater crocodiles and turtles to begin breeding. By the time the pods appear on the trees it is time for these animals to lay their eggs and by the time the pods split open, it is time for the eggs to hatch. We also learnt that flowers of the kapok tree are delicious in salad – Lea is keen to include them in our diet!

Due to its proximity to the city we chose a newly built caravan park with “en suite ablutions” on each of its powered sites. A rather fancy name for a toilet and shower in a dull cement rendered cubicle behind heavily barred, metal gates. Most convenient, but the prison-like impression is off-putting especially when you hear them banging shut during the night! Lush gardens have added the discomfort of invisible no-see-ums (sand flies) that attack Lea around dusk and dawn at every opportunity.

Getaway outside the prison gates of Hidden Valley

By lunch time our first day, the airless heat and humidity was too much for us and we decided to take refuge in a cinema. Wah-Wah was showing. A delightful film produced by Richard Grant. If we recall correctly, it was based on the story of his young life in Swaziland. “Toodle-pip” and “hoity-toity” were colonial slang terms that rang bells from Lea’s childhood.

Before we left Darwin in 2003 excitement was mounting over the new railway line being constructed from Alice Springs to Darwin. It was expected to change the face of this region by bringing more jobs, tourists and export opportunities. Today, the long dreamed of transcontinental railway line connecting Adelaide to Darwin is finally a reality and although catching sight of the railway line on many occasions en route from Katherine we had been disappointed not to see a single train. The Railway Terminal was not that far from our caravan park but still well removed from the city centre. Determined to see The Ghan, named after the early Afghan pioneers who opened up Australia’s arid interior using camel trains, we found a timetable and took the surprisingly long drive out to the industrial harbour area to watch the train’s bi-weekly departure.
Balloons and champagne were in evidence. A novel way to send off its passengers we thought, rather like the use of streamers at the dockside! Subsequently we learnt it was to launch the Ghantastic Writers legendary journey through the heart of Australia, the train being used as a venue to promote an on-board festival of Australian authors with their books.

The Ghan train

QANTAS, Darwin was our first opportunity to look into the options open to us regarding our return flight to the UK in February. These particular flight specials offer no chance whatsoever of extending the date by a month! Nor do they offer refunds. In the unlikely event of the new baby arriving early - a possibility exists of paying extra to fly out of Perth instead of Brisbane before the expiry date 24 February. In knowing that we wouldn’t have been able to visit South Africa & Zimbabwe prior to coming to Australia at standard prices we will probably forfeit these tickets and buy new return tickets in Perth. Who knows – in going back to spend the English summer with Justine, Dan, Otto, Roo and Kiki we may be able to stopover in Cape Town and catch up with Keith & Colleen as well?

Having anticipated spending time in Darwin this seemed an ideal place to look for jobs. Lea popped into her old school hoping to pick up relief work. She ended up staying over two hours catching up with staff and pupils! While there, she discovered a Teacher Registration Board has come into being in the Territory while she has been away. A visit to Education Head Office required on line registration procedures. From experience, these things don’t happen overnight and we wonder if the time and expense will exceed our intended stop-over? The Territory mango season begins in September requiring itinerant workers. Notices up in caravan parks and backpackers calling for one and all had us fancy working together in the packing sheds. That too, has been thwarted by the prospect of sitting around waiting until the fruit yields demand the extra help.

Lea became conscious of an intermittent whine drifting up the valley and mentioned it to George who was totally unaware of it - our first night in Hidden Valley Tourist Resort. Next day we noticed one corner occupied by huge transporters with tents dotted around them and learnt that within Hidden Valley lies the Speedway! Our stay has coincided with the 2006 Conoco Chariots of Thunder Series. On Friday night while watching TV, a gentle wind began rattling the blinds and flapping the awning. To George’s consternation, over all these sounds came a more penetrating high pitched shrill that had him leap up in highly charged manner to get down our awning….thinking a cyclone was fast approaching! Lea was left weak with laughter at the tricks the sprint cars had played on George’s ears. Aside from the nightly motor sport noises over weekends our ears have taken a battering from low flying military jets. They panic the birds in every direction and give us heart palpitations – only for another to scream overhead and do the same again. Reminding Lea of the protective measure, our little Roo takes when the same thing happens back in the UK. She would shield her eyes against the glare to find the scary jet. In his fright, he learnt to put an upturned hand over forehead in a semi salute to ward off the evil!

It has been a sad week for Australians losing two of its iconic characters under most unusual circumstances. Steve Irwin, the legendary crocodile hunter, died instantly when the barb on a sting-ray’s tail pierced his heart. Five days later Peter Brock, renowned racing driver, was killed after hitting a tree during a four rally in Western Australia. Our hearts did flick flacks on hearing this news in the knowledge that our son-in-law Paul was taking part in the same rally.

Five months into our trip and well over half way around Australia, the act of temporarily “dropping anchor” in Darwin to hang around for any prospect of work seems pointless. Especially when we swelter in temperatures that reached 37°C as they did on Friday.
How easily our nomadic lifestyle has us growing impatient with the same view and hankering to see around the next corner. With the urge to move on we suspect it will not be long before our wheels are rolling again!