One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest . .

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Ahh, the luxury of flying. You don't know how much you miss it and even though it was only lil ole Jet Star, in our eyes it was like going by private jet, such was our relief at not having to take another greyhound.
So we arrived in Darwin and booked into the Meleleuca on Mitchell St (MOM) as this was recommended to us as the best hostel. It was ok there, nice bar and pool area and the room wasn't bad (except for the broken aircon and Babs, an OAP and seasoned traveller, who was bunking beneath Geen and who rose daily at 6am for her morning swim. Grrr) but unfortunately the worst thing about this hostel was the kitchen. Some stupid backpackers (and we have met a fair old few of em) had broken the knobs on the hobs so that they couldn't be turned off and as a result it was absolutely stifling in there and totally impossible to cook. I did manage a beans on toast and Geen got a pot noodle, before resigning ourselves to eating out at the Hungry Jacks every night before we passed out in the sahara like heat.
And the hostel's not the only thing that was not quite right about Darwin. Now, not to denigrate a whole population, and it was probably just the people that we came into contact with (which says a lot about us, I guess) but to us, everyone seemed to be a little bit odd . . well, I'll go as far as to say gormless. We did meet some 'normal' people, Rob for one, a guy who took a shine to Geen and spent a lovely 2 days with her, during which they shared a famous Darwin sunset together.
Meanwhile brother Bloom and I got familiar with Darwin's bus timetable and managed to get to the shopping complex and the museum, where we oohed and ahhed over the collection of poisonous insects and animals that can kill you, which Australia seems to have more of than anywhere else in the world. There was also a fine collection of Aboroginal art, which was great to see as there had been little in the way of any reference to Australia's indigenous people on the east coast, other than what you find in tacky Oz souvenir shops. Although sweltering in the searing heat getting there, it was well worth the trip to the museum.
And so another night out, this time in the company of our new friends, Rob and Jen, at the local dive where we ended up watching a competition where girls paint their bare chests and win 500 dollars. You think thats dated and a bit tacky? There was worse to come in Broome, Western Australia.

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