Travelers be warned: Darwin is an international hub for drunken debauchery. At every pub and backpacker joint in town, an onslaught of beer-guzzling Germans can be observed mingling with flirtatious Finns, bootilicious Brits, and cantankerous Canucks. Despite being in the notoriously remote “Top End” of Australia, there is no shortage of fashionistas sporting midriff, bared legs, and blonde highlights. Scoping the circuit for a suitable spot to study, I inevitably feel like a misplaced calf drifting in the international meat market. How long would it be until I was slaughtered, minced, and fried? “Nerdburger Special!” they’d shout, shelling me out at 63 cents a kilo. I woke up in a sweat, believing the auction had already begun. Bolt upright, I sighed with relief and exasperation as I realised the shouts were emanating from a drunken backpacker
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