Week 26 (18th - 24th September)

Thanks to the non-delivery of a yet-to-be-identified part needed to complete the repairs to our fridge, a part that was meant to arrive from Queensland over a week ago, we were unable to leave for Kakadu as intended. Instead, we were subjected to an interminably long and costly wait, partly offset by us moving from Hidden Valley to Shady Glen. We selected a site that looked like an absolute cinch to get into. However, getting the wheels of the caravan aligned just off a concrete slab that serves as a patio, proved quite another matter. After four different attempts, help kindly offered by our neighbour and nearly knocking down a palm tree after reversing into it, it almost degenerated into another of those awful scenarios witnessed by Paul and Saxon at the Red Bluff caravan park! Advantages include a bit more wildlife around, including a resident dragon lizard. However, the proximity of this park to the Darwin Airport runway also means that as each plane lifts off with its engines at full throttle, our cutlery starts to rattle and fall into the sink!

WAITING in vain for the fridge man to phone we at least had a couple of funeral services to watch on TV. Peter Brock was given a State Funeral on the Tuesday morning and Steve Irwin’s Celebration of life was broadcast on the Wednesday morning. His eight year old daughter, Bindi was inspiring with her confidence and flawless delivery, so much so that Lea found it heartrending.
By the end of three days sitting around in the heat we again escaped to the movies to see “Jindabyne”. Australian made films are very different to Hollywood! Not only is there a quirky storyline, the reality of characters have to be seen to be believed.
Late Thursday afternoon the Technician arrived and five minutes later the fridge was all done and dusted.

Freedom Friday - We were on the roll bright and early and keen to stock up on sun ripened tomatoes available at a smallholding outside Darwin – pick your own $2.00 a kg rather than the supermarket price from $5.00.
Having bumped into the Poffley’s at Mindil Market (Sandra is the Nakara School bursar) they had given us an open invitation to visit their fruit farm near Humpty Doo. Since the time was right we gave Mike a call and discovered he was literally around the corner from the tomato farm. Mike grew up in Wankie (Hwange) hence the affinity and we found him waiting at the entrance of his tropical paradise. A verdant oasis within the dry open woodlands of outer Darwin! Thanks to a plentiful supply of water their beautiful 4 bed roomed home surrounded by a deep shady verandah, looks out in every direction onto a garden that resembles a luxuriant rainforest. Mike happily showed us around his well kept plantation trying to talk us into buying the property which recently went onto the market. Tempting… we loved it and could not help thinking it was an attractive proposition for an immigrant requiring a business. George was intrigued to learn how the yield of each mango tree is improved by stressing it, either by ring barking or applying a string soaked in herbicide around the trunk. Sadly no mangoes were ready for the picking.

The Poffley's homestead

Entering Kakadu National Park (World Heritage Site) the first signs of change were no entrance payable and the swathes of fallen trees making us think the area had been devastated by elephants. However, this was the aftermath of Cyclone Monica who swept through Park in April, this year. By mid-afternoon we pulled into the camping grounds of an Aurora resort near the South Alligator River. The informal layout gives a feeling of bush camping. The site we selected displaced a number of hot crows (ravens) who were sitting in the shade of a fig tree with their beaks gaping and wings splayed as if damaged. Once we’d settled in their place we filled a bucket of water to provide them with a bird bath and ourselves, with hours of entertainment. Most Australians hate crows. We, however, were once adopted by a pair - Croaky and wife living in a gum tree in our Perth garden and we have had a soft spot for crows ever since.

Campsite Croaky having a bath

With all the crows taking turns to bathe we decided to do the same and went in search of the swimming pool. Thankfully, we immersed ourselves in a pool set within a wide expanse of green lawn happily watching Agile wallabies feeding and blue-faced honey-eaters darting in and out of a palm tree.
Towards nightfall we were glad to spot some dingoes trotting nonchalantly back and forth along the periphery of the camp ground and even gladder, when on three occasions during the night we were startled awake by the amazing sounds of collective howling. We concluded the dingoes were having a choir practice.

With no good reason to leave the crows or dingoes we remained at South Alligator for another day - last minute decisions being one of the joys of having no fixed plan or schedule. After breakfast we took the 4 km Gungarre Monsoon Forest trail and at one point came to a standstill trying to ascertain what could be making the strange sound ahead of us. George thought it sounded like a cockatoo being strangled by a python! Lea thought it was an animal warning signal as each step forward seemed to correspond with another outcry. Eventually, after searching every branch in the canopy above us we realised the noise was coming from within a dead branch. From its resonance we decided it must be a tree frog.

Gungarre Monsoon Forest walk

Sunday morning found us on the edge of East Alligator River with the intention of taking the walking trail through the riverine forest we had previously enjoyed while living in Jabiru. The damage wreaked by Cyclone Monica had resulted in its closure. In the past, we had failed to find any signs of the salt water crocodiles that inhabit this river. Hence, as we made our way up to the famed Cahill’s Crossing we were mighty surprised to see our first saltie resting up, seemingly unconcerned, on a mud bank exposed by the low tide. This tidal river is renowned for flowing in two directions and in the process frequently washes vehicles off the causeway. Coming here, inevitably tweaks our sense of horror. At Cahill’s Crossing, a foolhardy fisherman lost his life wading across on a rapidly rising tide. He lost his footing and slipped over the edge of the causeway and was decapitated by a crocodile in front of a crowd of tourists and fellow fishermen. The other haunting tale is that of a woman out bird watching in a canoe, upstream. A saltie deliberately began bumping her canoe. In disbelief, she decided to jump to safety using a tree on the bank. The croc leapt up and grabbed her between the legs and began a series of death rolls to drown her. If the water had been deeper she’d have drowned. Amazingly by keeping her wits about her she managed to escape but again the croc hauled her back into the water to undergo another bout of rolling. Third time lucky she escaped to tell of this shocking ordeal. Nightmare stuff!

East Alligator - Cahill's crossing

With the hottest time of the day upon us we retired to Merl Campground to take full advantage of the massive amount of solar energy being generated by the panels on top of Getaway to write up our blog. As evening set in we drove down to Ubirr, only 3km away, to catch the “large ball of fire” drop out of the sky. We climbed to the top of the largest sandstone outlier with its superb 360° vista over the Cahill Plains, the East Alligator floodplain and the stone country of Arnhemland. The cool breeze brought welcome relief as we beheld what is commonly regarded as the best view in Kakadu. Significantly, we have sat in the same place with our children.

Week 25 (10th - 17th September)

Bear with us and forgive the reminiscing that may creep into these weeks in the Top End. We have retraced many of our favourite places within the city and its surrounds with funny and familiar recollections flooding back.

In our minds the best barramundi and chips were to be found at three locations, each in settings that left such enduring memories with family and friends that we could not resist treating ourselves to our first meal out. First choice was easily the old railway carriage at the back of the inner harbour. What a disappointment to find it no longer exists. The development boom has turned the area into a construction site for a conference centre and wave pool. A little further on Stokes Hill wharf, overlooking Australia’s biggest natural harbour, beckoned. Providing respite from the heat due to its southerly orientation and gentle breezes wafting off the tranquil expanse of water, we can sit on the edge of the wharf enjoying panoramic views. Smoke haze from the dry season bush fires filter the glare of the setting sun, casting soft pastel hues of light across the sky and water surface. As we gaze out, a surface disturbance catches our eye and a dolphin appears creating a thrill for all the folk spread down the length of the wharf. Seagulls in dervish dances, swoop for chips and scraps thrown by diners, disappear at dark. In their place, illuminated by the beams thrown on the sea below we are now entertained by masses of fish attracted to the light. Feeding frenzies over leftovers begin erupting here and there. We found it hard to leave this balmy night for the confines of Getaway.

Mindil Beach Sunset Market is indubitably Darwinian and truly a multi-cultural experience with its varied sights, sounds and smells. Locals bring their picnic tables and chairs to socialize behind the dune while tourists tend to scatter themselves out on the beach for the sunset ritual. Amongst the array of food stalls, milling crowds jostle to place their orders. A new one for us, this time round is “Road Kill café” serving camel, kangaroo, crocodile and wild pig kebabs! Of course there are plenty of craft stalls to tempt the tourists and crowds are drawn in different directions by the music, singing and dancing that takes place throughout the evening. Ever since our first visit here with Justine, Daniel, Jamie & Emma we have been taken by the ambiance that is Mindil. It was good to be back here.

Mindil beach sunset market - Darwin's favourite community event

Time has reversed since our friend Jo Vandermark would come in from Jabiru to stay in our beautiful apartment in The Sentinel. Now she owns a beautiful apartment in The Sentinel and we had been invited to dinner there! We faced the rising sun, she faces the setting sun. Both views have outstanding outlooks of the harbour and Esplanade gardens from its inner city position. Our senses were elated returning to the pleasures this Apartment building imparts… The red blazed sun steadily dipped downwards, its heat, alleviated by coastal breeze and fine chilled wine on Jo’s deck (or balcony as we always called it). Orange-footed scrub fowls rooting around in the park below and, at dusk, the flying foxes (Lea’s Dad so loved counting them) lazily flapping past after leaving their roosts in Doctor’s Gully - reminding us vividly of the years we spent looking out on these self same scenes. Jo’s inimitable style enhances it all – we had a special night catching up. Her Aboriginal Yirrkala burial poles caught our eye and Jo told us that the annual Telstra National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Awards were on show …

Not that we needed much reminding to revisit the NT Museum and Art Gallery. Far from being housed in a fusty old building of architectural significance, responsibility for its prime position on the edge of the Arafura Sea must lie with Cyclone Tracey wiping out Darwin on Christmas Day, 1974. We are always happy to visit as it has as much on offer inside as out! Stepping into the time warp of the Cyclone Tracey exhibit sends shivers up one’s spine with all the sights and sounds recorded during this dreadful event. The mounted body of rogue crocodile “Sweetheart” resides here. Such a ludicrous name for a giant of a reptile! His dislike of outboard motor sounds resulted in the attack of over 15 boats on the Finniss River. “Sweetheart” tragically drowned in 1979 while being trans-located away from this popular fishing haven. Up in the Gallery, just as in Cossack with its Pilbara art, we thoroughly enjoyed the diversity of themes and developments in contemporary Aboriginal art in the Telstra Awards.
Re-entering the aesthetically pleasing grounds that surround the building we felt the spirits of both George’s brother, Peter and Lea’s parents around us. They too, had loved roaming around here on many occasions during the last ever holiday of their lives.

The Arafura sea and Pandanus lined shore - NT Museum & Art Gallery

Catching up with old friends and work associates had us going separate ways just for a change… Wednesday had George visiting his Russian friend Simeon Jurkijevic, the knife-maker out on his smallholding. While Lea spent an hour at her old school before catching a bus into the city to find Muriel Tait (nee Lappin) once a six year old student from way back… when Lea was just starting out as a teacher in Kariba. “Missy Moo” as she was known in those days came to live in Darwin with her husband Mike and their three daughters six months after we left. Lea found Muriel in her new business, Pressed for Time, amidst piles of ironing! Despite all her work, Muriel insisted on taking her old teacher out to a lovely lunch with her husband Mike joining them. And they talked non-stop!
Similarly, on Saturday, Lea was invited to rendezvous at Buzz Café with its decking overlooking the Cullen Bay Marina with three of her former teaching colleagues. At the same time George paid a visit to one of his scientific friends from his working days.

Many a Saturday evening when Lea’s school planning for the week had been completed, we would seek relaxation and refuge by camping overnight in our secret retreat on Leeders Creek, an hour out of the city. A mud map request prompted us to revisit. Predictably, as we travelled our rural back road we found much of the surrounding woodlands burning. This standard practice known as “cool burning” is designed to suppress the fuel load annually and thereby prevent devastating fires sweeping through. Would we reach our camp safely? Around the creek crossing the countryside was blackened by fire, logs still smouldering. Nevertheless, we took the little track off the road winding through the trees to our camp and found by a stroke of good fortune that the fire had stopped short of it. Evidence of previous uncaring occupants lay discarded around the camp fire. George cleared up the many empty beer cans and Lea freed up the unsightly leaf litter that had jammed behind the fallen log that creates a natural foot bridge and barrier over our section of creek. We soon had the pretty spot restored. Together with the shade and bush spa we had no difficulty keeping cool throughout the day. With our feet up and idly looking out through the under-storey of the dry woodlands dotted with cycads, each bearing brilliant green clusters of leaves, we’d hear the odd squawk of a passing red-tailed black cockatoo. So perfect!
Leeder's Creek spa

Having made the decision to head off to Kakadu next week and gradually make our way across to Cairns we booked an appointment with Dave Waite, the mobile caravan service man, to have Getaway’s wheels re-greased and electric brakes cleaned. During the course of this service lots of talking was done and we learnt much. Dave and his wife are fanatical barramundi fishermen from Queensland. Prior to every “Dry” they go fishing on the Gulf of Carpentaria before arriving in Darwin to work a 24/7 day to generate the money to live their dream. Now at the tail end of the tourist season he is preparing to return south via the Gulf for more fishing! Did we say he loves the sport of barramundi fishing? You bet – he even showed us his week old tattoo which came with a “3 weeks-after death” guarantee. Take a peek!

Barra tattoo on Dave Waite's back

A mud-map of Leeders Creek was drawn up for Guy as he’d requested and we set off to see him and meet his wife Dimity and their quaint little daughter Tanami. On a thickly wooded stand outside of Humpty Doo they have built the quintessential elevated Territory house for the climate. This wild and wonderful place had us standing on their top deck feeling as if we were growing with the trees. In the bush below bandicoots rummaged and hopped around feeding. This was once our dream to own a home and share the bush habitat around it with Australian creatures when we first immigrated. Instead we have a caravan with an ever changing view that often provides that for us.

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!

Week 23 (27th August - 2nd September)

Before getting on the road for the Northern Territory we were able to buy bottles of ice from the motel – these turned out to be far better than bags of ice which leaked and slopped all over the place as we motored along. State borders always give rise to concern over what we should not be carrying - to meet quarantine requirements. Paula had sent us an email confirming that when entering the Northern Territory no inspection was necessary. Sure enough we sailed through the border, George fortunately noticed a sign advising that we had to advance our watches by one and a half hours. Thank goodness we did not have to suffer the confusion that arose while crossing the Nullarbor. Time changing is a pain and throws out that first day. We weren’t ready for lunch when the clock dictated!

As we hummed along the Victoria Highway, would you believe that as we dipped down one of the many creeks, we saw suspended on the barbed wire fence spanning the creek-bed… three dead bats! Once again we began chewing over the reasons. Later, as we approached the northernmost tip of the Gregory National Park, the Gregory Tree heritage sign caught our interest and we turned off the highway to see what it was. A few kilometres down a dirt road brought us to a car-park in the middle of nowhere. For a few moments we were distracted by a shindig going on in trees close by us. Birds upset by a snake? Before spotting a path leading further into the bush. Being able to wander off into bush in this manner without a soul around or any sense of anxiety is one of the real privileges of exploring Australia! We have to doff our hats when we come across a beautifully made boardwalk surrounding a boab with views of the mighty Victoria River (the largest of the Territory rivers). Even more unexpected, was to be able to press buttons and hear tape recordings on different aspects of history at this spot. Not only a miracle of technology, but also the fact the equipment hadn’t been vandalised!

Information display around The Gregory Tree

Augustus Gregory turned out to be the first, born and bred Australian explorer. Creating his North Australia Expedition base camp here he had carved the arrival and departure date (1856) on the tree. Amazing that that in the intervening years the writing had not been distorted by growth and that graffiti dates as far back as that!

Not much further down the Victoria Highway was Big Horse Creek campground in the National Park where we were happy to stop for the night and spend the afternoon writing a birthday email to our son. Out here we find ourselves wondering how Keith may be celebrating this day; where Colleen and he may be on their canoe voyage down the Lugenda River in northern Mocambique; what adventures may have arisen during their month long river survey; and when they will get back to their base camp.

The Gregory National Park comprises two widely separated components. We saw very little of the larger western section because it appears to be devoted to a series of rugged and remote 4WD tracks. Although the smaller eastern section of the Park is separated from the western sector by almost 100km the intervening area, provided a semi-continuous view of the cliff-like scarp faces of Stokes Range, and was a joy to drive through. Fascinated by the proximity and appearance of the escarpment we were able to investigate Joe’s Creek in the eastern sector of the park by taking the looped 1.7km Nawulbinbin walk. This trail led up through the rocky scree slopes to the base of the escarpment where, capitalising on the availability of water that seeps from the cliffs above, a remarkable transition from open woodland to dense palm forest and ferns occurs. Examples of Aboriginal rock art on the walls of the cliffs, fabulous views of the valley below and the surrounding escarpments all added to another memorable experience.

A view on the Nawulbinbin walk - Gregory National Park

Stopping for lunch at Sullivan’s campground we decided it was too hot to hang around there for another night. Instead, we’d find a bush camp closer to Katherine. The Limestone Creek rest area looked good and we chose the quietest and shadiest spot furthest from the road. How often do we find that once parked, our presence seems to trigger others into stopping! In next to no time there were eight rigs and two tents encircling the centre picnic area. Towards evening, with the sound of birds returning to their roosts, the low orange glow of the sun high-lighting the eucalypt woodland we looked round at the other campers, to see most sitting outside their vans enjoying “five-sies”, the term used for sundowners here; the four young girls from the tents cooking up their “tea” at the communal fireplace before nightfall; a toddler enjoying a mighty long soak in a plastic storage box while her Dad prepared their portable gas barbeque - we had to laugh when she called for her potty! At dark it all culminated in the inimitable kookaburra’s symphony of cackles. So Australian and we love it!

The Riverview Caravan Park backed onto the Katherine River with hot springs close by. We first learnt of this river on Australia day in 1998 when it hit the news after rising so high that it nearly wiped out the town of Katherine. Already two days behind schedule with our blog we made haste for the internet café. No end of difficulties trying to send photos had us there for over an hour before we were able to leave. Off we went to soak away our frustrations in the hot springs. These springs are a series of thermal pools said to have a constant temperature of 32°C. For a hot day it did seem a bit ridiculous to go. However, we found it was in a beautifully shady glen and the water comfortably cool. It turned out to be a good gathering place for grey nomads coming and going, so good that we found ourselves chatting until our skins had turned into wrinkly white prunes. An old German escaping Melbourne winter annually for Wyndham was delighted to hear we’d been there. From him we learnt that the artist of the copper sculptures we’d been to see was no less than Reginald Birch, an Aboriginal who had written a book Wyndham Yella Fella. A book for us to look out for!

During our supper that evening we heard the sounds of balladeers Mac Manton and his wife entertaining from their seasonal corner close to our site. In next to no time we were drawn over to the little group enjoying his country and western ballads. Soon a frog was attracted too and when Lea pointed it out to George he was quick to recognise it as the “dreaded” cane toad. No sooner said that a squeal from somebody at the front as it hopped past her foot … “Oh! What an ugly toad”! To which our balladeer was quick to retort how can you guys be so rude about my Queensland export? Cane toads were introduced to Queensland in 1935 to control stalk borer beetles in the sugar cane fields. They spread throughout much of Queensland and northern New South Wales. By the time we arrived in Kakadu in the year 2000 there were major fears being expressed about the welfare of native species in the Park due to the toad’s inherent toxicity. The publicity and fears expressed had everyone looking out for the hitch-hiking toads under vehicles and devising ways and means to control the onslaught. No matter, the toads moved in regardless.
Arriving back in Western Australia (WA) in 2006 we are again bombarded by the WA cane toad initiative – trying to ensure that cane toads accidentally brought into WA do not become established. While we were in Kununurra we heard of the Toad-Busters who are trying to hold back the cane toad’s westward march at the Victoria River until a biological control solution can be applied. George, always the environmental realist, is of the opinion that given the ideal conditions that prevail across the Top End of Australia, nothing will prevent them from spreading into the Kimberley. Lea, always keen to do her bit, looks for stowaways!

The world’s largest classroom naturally lured Lea to the Katherine School of the Air (KSA) which offers distance education from pre-school to year 7 to students who live on cattle stations and remote Aboriginal communities as well as families travelling throughout Australia and overseas. These students are taught via radio and distance educational material which is mailed out to them. More recently, Interactive Distance Learning, using computers has been set up by KSA. Looking through a glass-fronted studio we were able to watch a teacher conduct a science lesson assisted by a young distance student in town for a couple of days. It made for an interesting morning for us both.

Katherine School of the Air

After all our problems with the internet yesterday our photos needed to be resent. The thought of subjecting ourselves to another hour of frustration was solved when we spotted a hand scrawled bill-board at the traffic lights. We decided to check if there was another internet facility and found the Didj Internet café. This organised place had our pictures go off successfully. As we paid, an amazing success story unfolded and we were there for the next hour ….. From a mixed heritage of Aboriginal, Chinese, Malaysian and White background, Glenn Bambu, enthralled us with his life story and bubbly personality. With all the odds stacked against him as a youngster - we left with a deep respect for all he has achieved and the goals he has set himself.

Easter Sunday 2000, we happened to stop in at Edith Falls and found this pretty spot so jam packed with people that we didn’t stay long! Years down the line it seemed a good place to revisit after leaving Katherine. A quick look around the beautifully laid out camp ground (not many inmates by midmorning!) along with some walking trails and a large water hole below the falls we could swim in made it an easy choice to stay. Once the heat of the day subsided we took the 2,6 km looped trail that led upstream. No easy walk along a garden path! We just love the way the trails are carefully planned to wind us in and out, up and down a variety of habitats that when you come out the other end you feel as if you have been on a mini adventure that has used all your muscles and given your heart a good little pump! At viewpoints Park Rangers provide seats. So too, in any really difficult terrain or problem area they put in steps or walkways which enhance rather than detract from your walk. We experienced just that on this particular trail. At the halfway mark we came over the rise to survey a wondrous sight of a water fall spilling into a rock basin with islands and rocky outcrops. Just like a story book picture with its array of deep and shallow places, stepping stones and channels to quiet sandy beaches before disappearing in little rapid formations out the other side. George couldn’t resist cooling off with a swim and before too long Lea was persuaded to take the plunge with her usual exuberant yell on entering cold water. Such fun and so invigorating! Like us the first time – we wonder just how many visitors come to see Edith Falls and leave without realising that there is far more to it than first appearances. That night the Park Ranger gave the last of the season’s slide show on the lawn overlooking Edith Falls. Sitting there, under the trees and the starry skies with the occasional wail from stone curlews (thick knees) added enormously to the presentation. The traditional owners call Edith Falls – Leliyn - meaning frilled necked lizard as the cliff face of the falls resemble this creature. Once a common inhabitant of the Park UNTIL…. the arrival of the cane toad! This Ranger also felt that knocking toads on the head was an exercise in futility!

Top Pool, Nitmiluk National Park

Our plans for a night at Copperfield Dam (outside Pine Creek) did not pan out. The state of last night’s moon influenced us in our decision to return to an old favourite of ours, the Hot Springs on the Douglas River. This nature park is owned by the Wagiman people. It is an important place for Woman’s Business Ceremonies and the park may be closed if a ceremony is in progress.
These thermal springs can reach 60°C. – Not an enticing prospect by day! We have learnt that the optimal time for a swim is at night. After dinner we made our way through the widely spread campground enjoying the sight of flickering camp fires and smell of wood-smoke down to the river. Every visit we make here is different – the saying- “you can never step into the same river twice” applies. There is nothing artificial about it. Easing ourselves into the shallow sandy stream of hot water we lay on our backs looking out on a world transformed by the light of the silvery moon. Tall paper-barks trees and screw palms lined the banks, flood debris of upturned trees and roots created strange sculptures. Attached to the margins of the channels, green ropes of filamentous algae gave Lea the creeps as pieces writhed in the current like serpents. Periodically, streams of effervescent bubbles emerged from the sand tickling our backs. We were overwhelmed by a sense of relaxation, peace and wonderment.

As we end this week we find ourselves over-nighting on the edge of an old World War II airstrip in the outer Darwin area. Over 10,000 Allied troops used the sixty airfields built between Darwin and Daly Waters in the 1940’s for the defence of the coastline. Here we are at Hughes Airfield and in the silence we reflect on its history and the tales this runway could tell.
Are we on our own? No! Another rig is further down the strip.