Going Troppo in Darwin

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As soon as you step of the aircraft after landing in Darwin, it just hits you. The temperature is around 36 c here and with the humidity there’s a much more tropical feel than the cooler spring we left behind in Perth. Darwin is located in the Northern Territories (NT) and lies right on the North coast, enclosed by the Arafura Sea above and by thousands upon thousands of square miles of outback nothingness below; although NT covers 20% of this massive continent, it is home to only 1% (about 200,000) of the total population of Australia. You get a feel for the size of this country when you realise it took us 3 hours to fly from (not even) the extreme south to the north coast, and, when you arrive, there’s an hour and a half difference in time and 15 degrees in temperature.

We’d had an early start from Freo (I’m out of the habit of getting up early these days!) to get the 08.10 flight out of Perth. There’s not much in the way of scenery during the flight as you’re over the outback all the time until, out of nowhere, you see Darwin in the distance and it’s not an inspiring sight. Those of you who know the bleaker parts of the North West of England will be familiar with a town near Blackburn with a similar name but spelt Darwen. There are distinct similarities between the Oz and UK versions as both are grim, ugly and are more functional for industry than for any other purpose (we chuckle every time we see a bus here as the destination of every one is “Darwin” according to the sign on the front - there just isn’t anywhere else around).

This Darwin has quite a story to tell though; it was first established in 1869 (known as Palmerstone then) with high hopes of it becoming a trading post and it was nicknamed “the New Singapore”. Unfortunately, this never quite happened and it has been destroyed on several occasions, once by the Japanese in World War 2 and by several cyclones (it is the most lightening struck city in the world). The last time it was badly damaged was as recently as 1974 when it was hit by Cyclone Tracy and 66 people were killed; this has directly influenced its appearance as people took the view there wasn’t a lot of point in constructing attractive buildings as there was a good chance they wouldn’t last long. The result is a largely uninspiring place but one that is latterly trying to beautify itself. Darwin’s population is only 82,000 of which 25% are aborigines, despite them only making up about 2% of Oz’s total population.

As fate would have it, horse racing was scheduled at the local track for the day we arrived, Saturday 13th Oct, but we didn’t think we’d make it in time as we weren’t due to land until 1pm and figured we’d be too late. Our luck was in though as they don’t start racing here until 4pm so the climate is more bearable for horses and punters alike. The racecourse is just out of the city and its seaside location has led to it being named Fannie Bay. If Scooby Do ever filmed on equine themed episode, this would be an ideal location as it is picturesque but sprawling, a little spooky and has very, very few people there. To give you an idea of how quiet it was, the lady at the only entrance turnstile insisted on walking us to a suitable location to take our photo as she had so few customers; she then sold me two entrance badges at 10$ each (about £4) but said not to worry about them as they wouldn’t be needed. (She also told us there were only 4 races that day which was incorrect and meant we missed the last one, but that’s a different story). On the racing front a success rate of 1 from 4 was achieved, meaning we broke even on the day.

The climate here means that the locals drink 50% more alcohol that the average for the rest of the country and, believe me, that’s one hell of an achievement. Apparently, as the heat, humidity and fluctuating air pressure build as the wet season approaches in October, many people “go troppo” from the intensity. We haven’t been brave enough to ask exactly what “going troppo” means but we think it’s absolutely stark raving mad and, having spent a short time here, it’s understandable. Rod Ansell, the inspiration for Paul Hogan’s Crocodile Dundee, was from these parts but I’m afraid his story doesn’t have a happy ending. He reluctantly became a star as a result of the film’s success and tried to cash in by setting up a tourist attraction based on this theme. It failed though because he was barred from using the “Crocodile Dundee” name and he went bust. This resulted in him going off the rails (“troppo”?) and he was killed in a shootout with police having himself killed one officer - sorry, I did warn you.

Two nights of the week Mindil Markets are held on the beach at the edge of town. The event is like a cross between a car boot sale and Glastonbury with a wide range of people in attendance, ranging from normal family groups to dreadlocked hippies covered in tattoos and staggering uncontrollably from stall to stall. The market is effectively split into two with half selling food, the other half other things. The latter is made up of aborigines busking on didgeridoos (I’m desperate for a bunch of criminal ones to form a band and call themselves “Abo’s with Asbo’s”), boomerang sellers, tarot card readers etc etc. The variety of food stalls is amazing with just about every country in the world (except the UK, come to think of it) being represented. You simply stroll around, picking up something here, something there and then walk onto the beach to eat whilst watching the bright red sun slowly go down over the sea (one of the items we got were oysters that were shucked to order and cooked fresh in a Kilpatrick style - gorgeous). Whilst was a great experience, we didn’t stay there too long as
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a) we were mortified to find out there’s no alcohol license and all you could get to drink was organic carrot juice or something similar and

b) Angela stood on a ginger ants nest. These are vicious little critters who give a real nip and, once I had stopped laughing uncontrollably at her exotic dance, I helped her take her shoes off and kill them all. I’m kicking myself now as I think I missed an opportunity to make some money; I reckon if I’d have put my cap on the floor quick enough when she stood on the nest, I’d have collected enough from the crowd (who rapidly gathered round to watch) to have paid for our entire evening out. They may well have mistaken it for a Boltonian rain dance and have considered it the best entertainment they’d seen that evening.

We’re staying in the Holiday Inn on the Esplanade in Darwin; it’s a good hotel but the rooms, unfortunately, don’t have balconies. I think this is because they consider people wouldn’t use them due to the heat and volatility of the climate, but thankfully they have a large pool area which we make full use of. It’s amazing how quickly time goes doing nothing but reading and relaxing round the pool - I’m starting to sound like one of those newly retired people now by saying things like “I don’t know how I found time to work.................”!!

Tuesday was another early start as were being picked up at 06.50 for a day trip to the Litchfield National Park. This turned out to be a fantastic experience and one we’ll remember for a very long time. The park is about 100km from Darwin city and is true outback country. Our guide driver was an absolute nut case called Neville who had us laughing all the way there and all the way back with his random wittering, poor impressions and even poorer jokes (and I feel fully qualified to comment on that). He started to get tremendously excited when a couple of specks of rain hit the windscreen as they’re desperately waiting for it to come and this is the start of their “wet” season (it’s a good job he doesn’t live in Manchester or I think he’d have actually burst) - god knows what he’ll do when it starts properly.

The first highlight of the day was a cruise up the river on the Adelaide Queen boat to feed the jumping crocodiles (obviously, we were keen to secure a place on the top deck). This isn’t a circus act and these are crocs living in the wild; they recognise the sound of the boat losing revs and approach very slowly and stealthily. A huge pork chop is splashed in the water to lure them closer and then dangled out at a height of about six feet. The crocs then “pounce” by driving themselves fully out of the water by using their immensely powerful tail - a technique they use in the wild. This made for an incredible spectacle and we saw about a dozen different beasts do this. We were given the tip that, if ever you fall into crocodile infested waters, do not swim. The best technique is to cross your arms and float down river - you’ll be ignored as being a log. Just park that one at the back of your mind - you never know when you’ll need it............... ;-)

After lunch we visited several different waterfalls and swam in the rock pools below. It was glorious to cool down in this way (don’t worry - we let our food settle) and, as these were spas, the water was incredibly clear. These pools are naturally filtered by sandstone and the water clean enough to be bottled as it is - notwithstanding sweaty tourists covered in sun lotion and insect repellent swimming in it. These Aussies have nicknames for everything and Neville made me chuckle when he told us where we could get changed into our budgie smugglers - better known as trunks.

As we drove back out of the park, we stopped to see the termite mounds; there are millions of these things in the bush. They reach heights of over 20 feet and many are over fifty years old. The natural engineering is mind blowing; for example, they are all built at a specific width and angle to ensure they never get too hot but absorb enough heat to get them through the cool nighttimes. We even passed within a few feet of a few bush fires but these burn much more gently than I imagined and we weren’t in danger. Far from being a bad thing, they are needed to clear away dead material and make way for fresh, new growth. This is often visible only days after the fire and the termite mounds and trees comfortably survive.

So after five days here, it’s time to leave Darwin and move onto Queensland. It is a place that we weren’t sure of initially but really grew on us; despite its small population, it covers a massive area and there’s a lot to see and do. Like much of Australia it’s going through an economic boom and is rapidly growing; it’s a certainty that this will make it an even better place to visit in future.

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Photos

Gate crashing the Party
But I was keen to get on record yet another Cotton winner.........................

You Can Take The Boy Out of Bolton...................
This might look like a kebab but I think you’ll find it’s an Indonesian Flat Bread Wrap................ On Midil Beach shortly before Angela astonished one and all with her ant induced rain dance.

Jumping Crocs
That’s close enough – thank you!!

Litchfield National Park 1
This wasn’t even one of the biggest termite mounds around.

Litchfield National Park 2
Swimming in the rock pools. You can actually swim right up to the falls and sit behind them; if you look very closely you can just make Angela out to the left of the picture. I managed to get this shot by swimming back to shore more quickly than her, not because I nearly sank half way across so went back....................

Litchfield National Park 3
Money making idea number 2 – bottle this and sell it for £1.95 a go. Would need a catchy name – maybe be “Peckham Spring”.............................