Darwin: Meeting the Jumping Crocs.

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So I was off on my own again, "now the real travelling starts" I said to myself. I had been away for nearly 5 weeks; 33 days in total and had already flown 4 times and visited 3 countries but now the adventure lie ahead. I had gotten used to being with family the last few weeks in both Andrea and Dawn's houses and had become comfortable with being around familiar faces and with people I liked and got on with. Now I was braving the world of travelling which can be daunting and sometimes lonely. I was, however feeling excited too as this would be my first time in Australia's Northern Territory. I'd previously worked in North Western Australia in the mining town of Port Headland for three months but saw the trip to the NT or Red Centre as a push too far money wise. I had promised myself 7 years ago that I would return to visit the Centre of Oz and put it on my bucket list and so made sure my flights took me there this time.



The 3 hour Qantas flight was as good as ever and apart from being a bit bumpy coming in, was pleasant enough. (I am so good at flying these days that I didn't even tell the lovely £10 Pommie couple sitting either side of me that we were about to ditch in the sea.) We flew over the huge River Argyle and the view of Darwin as we descended was a fantastic sight. I arrived at my hostel on Mitchell Street, dumped my bags and went out in search of food and somewhere to organise a tour. I didn't need to walk far as the hostel is on the main street and it has plenty to offer. I ate my phad Thai (when in Thailand eh....oh, wrong country...) and then went and booked myself on a group tour to see some of the wild crocodiles. That evening I took a brisk evening walk down to Mindil Beach where the Sunday outdoor market was being held. The warm evenings are perfect for walks and the hustle and bustle of the market was exciting. I bought a couple of nick nacks, got a fruit salad and walked back to hostel, happy I'd tired myself out to sleep well that night (my body clock being somewhat destroyed now as I had changed time zones so much. Darwin being one and a half hours ahead of Perth, eight and a half hours ahead of Wales).



I awoke early the next morning and took my time getting ready. I had a wash in the clean, hot Hobbit-esq shower (even me at a measly 5ft 3ins had to duck to get lower than the shower head making me wonder how normal sized people coped here) and set about looking around town. I walked the length of Mitchell Street and then walked along to the esplanade and down to Lameroo Beach which is very rocky and not really the place to relax, especially as there is a sign you pass as you walk down to the sand warning you to beware of the tarantulas. As I continued to walk along the path high above the ocean I read the many memorial plaques from WWII. Darwin suffered the biggest attack on Australian soil when the Japanese bombed it on the 19th February 1942. The bombings then continued for nearly 2 years and many lives were lost which makes our Swansea 3 night blitz pale in comparison. The Americans helped the Australians defend their land and it is clear how thankful the Aussies are to them for this support.

After a good walk around I headed back to my hostel and spent some time laying by the pool, enjoying the sun. I listened to Michael McIntyre's autobiography on my IPad, chuckling away to myself and probably looking like the village idiot as I'd hidden the earphone wire as not to get tan lines from it so to any onlooker I just looked like every now and again I couldn't stop laughing to myself for no apparent reason...no wonder people didn't approach me for a chat.



Anyway, I awoke at the crack of dawn...actually before it cracked, needing to use my torch to get my things together as not to wake up my roommate at 6am. I was picked up outside my hostel with a bunch of other tourists and we headed out of Darwin. We had a mixture of nationalities and ages on our tour. Only 13 of us but we managed to have 2 English girls, 1 Scotsman, 1 Canadian, 3 Dutch, 2 Spanish, 3 Aussies (all over 65, one with long white dreadlocks) and myself, the only Welsh. Our bus driver, guide and cook was called Daz. He was from Melbourne but appeared more at home up in the NT. He was always barefoot, whether it be driving, walking on sharp stones and burnt grass or on the incredibly hot, smooth stone that made everyone else hop around like Michael Flatley doing a monkey impression. He was obviously big into nature and was very knowledgeable when it came to flora and fauna as well as the birds and wildlife local to the area and took great pride in pointing out the various birds, animals and vegetation we saw on the trip. I thought this was great as if there's one thing I am pretty clueless about it's all that. I've tried (and failed in most cases) to know what bird is what (goodness knows Mrs Stewart has tried to educate me) but I just can't seem to keep most of it in my head. We stopped to see some very tall but very thin termite mounds on our way which bemused me, they are fantastic architects, those termites.



First on the agenda was seeing the crocodiles. This was my reason for the trip, I wanted to see them in their natural habitat. There are usually on average 2 people eaten by crocs each year and as there had already been 4 locals eaten this year already, I was confident they'd had a good feast and wouldn't be bothered by us. After a quick cup if tea we got on board the boat and left the jetty, smoothly sailing through the brown muddy waters. Literally as the engine started up there was one croc who made a beeline for us. It was explained to us that they feed the crocs but they want them to hunt for their own food too so if a croc had a feed yesterday, he/she won't get one today. So the lazy mare who wanted a second free lunch this week was left disappointed as we sped off down the Adelaide River in search for some more deserving client. It did not take long for the crew (all women incidentally, go girl power eh) to spot a fair few crocodiles that would benefit from the buffalo meat they were now dragging through the water to entice them. We fed about 6 or 7 salties (that's the type of crocodile there: they have a salt water gland and can survive in both fresh and salt water) and it was amazing. I could have put my arm out to pet the crocs, had I felt the overwhelming urge to lose a limb that day. They were so close to us and I had taken a seat with my English friend Lisa by the open window below deck for optimum viewing. The crocodiles jumped and and snapped for the meat, showing their massive jaws and sharp teeth. They were pretty long too, about 6 metres on average. I swear to God, one was eying me up, I'm sure he winked at me at one point as if to say you're next up on the menu. But we were in relative safety with the skipper giving them free meat, why go to the trouble of wrestling me? Not with my guns....ok, one gun on the arm that I carry the shopping up to my flat with. I was in awe of the mighty creatures and really enjoyed the experience. They gave us lots of information but the piece I remember most vividly is that if you are sitting on the bank of the river, not moving at all, not talking, not doing anything but sitting completely still, the crocodiles can still sense your heart beat from up to 10 Km away. Begs the question why did the fisherman, who was the latest person to be eaten alive two weeks ago, venture into known crocodile waters to get his fishing line which was stuck?



Next, we went to have a picnic type lunch under a huge Banyan tree an hour and a half away in Litchfield National Park. It was there that I got talking to the Scottish guy on our trip. Turns out Scot (his name and his nationality) had worked with my friend Owain for a couple of years in New Zealand. I will be visiting Owain in a few weeks time and so found it amusing that we had this friend in common, just goes to show how small a world we live in. After lunch it was time to swim. We went to Florence Falls and Wangi Falls and enjoyed swimming in the cool, fresh water. We had been told that they had been monitored for crocodiles and all was safe but this didn't stop a couple of the girls screaming like, well, girls whenever a fish swam past their feet or took a liking to their dead skin. Maybe my Bali pedicure had meant they had little interest in me as I felt nothing. We whiled away the afternoon, swimming, bathing and chatting away until it was time to get back on the bus and make our way back to Darwin. On the way back we stopped off to see some more termite mounds that were colossal (everything is out here) and then continued on to our accommodation.



I spent my last day in Darwin walking about town and relaxing by the pool. I figured the next 5 days camping and travelling down to Alice Springs was going to be tiring so I took the opportunity to chill out and gather some energy for the next leg of my journey.

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