Day 1 “Bye Bye K and Burning Up the Road” 10.11.2010
Loading a van that already has a bed in it with the luggage and belongings of three people, along with camping gear, fuel and water tanks, food supplies and coolers is exactly as hard as it sounds. “Berlin Calling”, a name for my van that is still in its test phase, was full to the brim after we managed to fit the contents of two rooms and fridges into it in an act of logistic brilliance. Although our estimated time of departure was set between 7-7:30am, we rolled out of the camp ground as 8 – very on time for Philippine standards hehe. How liberating it felt to be on the road again. And extra exhilaration on my part due to the fact that it was in my very own car. But because I haven’t been able to practice my skills of shifting gears on the wrong side, driving a little bus and generally finding myself on the wrong side of the road, I left the driving up to my two fellow travelers Moritz and Robin. The sound system (a pretty good one for such a contraption) blaring and with smiles on our faces we turned onto the Stuart Highway and headed down South towards Uluru. Though I have already been there, I don’t mind visiting the big red rock again – a different season, a different feeling and a good opportunity to test my vehicle on a road already travelled.
And “Berlin Calling” cruised down the Stuart Highway effortlessly, smooth. Our average speed was between 90 and 110 (though it can be taken up to 140)…The slower the better, was the advice my mechanic friend gave me, to ensure a long a healthy life (for the van, of course).
Our first stop was in Matarranka to buy ice for our eskies, ice cream for us as we were slowly beginning to melt in the late morning sun and to take a refreshing dip in the clear blue thermal pools. As we were just about to leave, we noticed a little kangaroo munching away on some grass right next to the van. He wasn’t bothered by us standing right next to it, not by being petted and he even ate crackers our of our hands – Kalle the kangaroo (a name affectionately given by Robin) became the first living roo to sweeten our day.
And there I was, driving along the road lined with nothing much but red earth, trees and shrubbery again. Up around Katherine, the rainfalls had turned everything much greener than I recalled, but further down south, the summer heat had started to dry out the bush and raise the possibility of bushfires. The first one we stopped at was right behind a metal gate, easily climbed over by the guys and crawled under by me. We had spotted the pillars of smoke on the horizon from afar. It’s surprising how such a fire just happens out there in the middle of nowhere and nobody seems to be interested in putting it out. It spreads, flares up and dies down with the wind, eats up the dry grass and bushes and singes the trees. We watched for a while, as it crawled on before getting back into the van… The second fire was right by the roadside. Big black billows of smoke towered high and darkened the sky above us. Eagles and other birds flew in and out, around and above the inferno, giving it an even more dramatic effect. In the few minutes we stood there, it spread at an amazing speed, the wind turned and engulfed us in smoke, the sun was obscured and the crackling of the flames became louder and more intense by the second. The flames were taller than us and dancing menacingly, angry at our taunting them right by the cement boarder they could not cross…Like heroes in a lame action movie, we stood meters from the inferno and walked off, slamming the car door without a singed hair.
Back on the road, my speakers were put to the test, playing everything from Café del Mar, electro, German rap, the Beatles and “Die Drei ???” Episodes. We stopped for more ice cream and loaded gas in Daly Waters. The tank is smaller than I thought and by the time we were almost at our destination for the day Tennant Creek, we had been driving on an empty tank for quite a while. With our very last drop we rolled into a roadhouse in Threeway and ended up staying at the campgrounds right behind it. No others, only us, parked under the only shade-giving tree on the red dirt and sparsely grassy campground. We set up the tables and chairs for the first time, fought with the gas cookers for a while and finally had our first real meal of the day – grilled sausages (still left over from my supplies in Katherine). Camping really is fun, except when you are camping on grounds that have been entirely taken over by multiple colonies of ants. Not a spot on the ground was ant free and not a toe on my left foot was spared. That and the army of mosquitoes that waged their guerilla warfare on us all night, left me with a whole lot of new bumps, welts and wounds from insatiably scratching in my sleep… But on a more positive note, the bed in the van is heaven. With both sliding doors and the trunk open, the hole-ridden but better-than-nothing mosquito net tightly tucked under the mattress, a thin blanket and comfy pillow one can really get a wonderful night’s sleep.
Day 2 “Driving” 11.11.2010
I woke up this morning to the late colors of the sunrise and the high pitched hum of mosquitoes out- and inside my net. A few slaps here and there, a few glances as the horizon and an hour or so of sleep more. I stepped outside the van and into an ant pile, I was followed to the bathroom by a swarm of flies and showered with my eyes vigilantly watching a gigantic spider (I’m talking palm of my hand gigantic) on my shower curtain – oh the little joys of roughing it. But the prospect of a cup of coffee, bowl or cereal and good-morning cigarette in the morning sun make all those little itches disappear.
Moving at a comfortable pace, we had breakfast, packed up and hit the road again... It was about time that I dare to get behind the wheels, days after buying my baby. So, I pulled out of the Threeway Roadhouse and took my first trip on the wrong side of the road, shifting gears on the wrong side and getting lights and windshield wipers confused. And everyone was right – you do get used to the confusion quite fast. The road was straight and empty. What a feeling – driving my own car down the middle of the Australian continent, the wind in my hair, my hair a flying curtain in front of my eyes, the sun burning my right arm, my foot heavier on the gas pedal than planned. I now understand why many warn about getting tired easily driving these never-ending tout droit roads with nothing but bush next to you and the horizon up ahead, it does get kind of monotonous. A little hitch in the car that I should get fixed back up in Darwin is the fact that it pulls to the left a bit. But at least it keeps the concentration alive, cause you have to make sure you stay on the road and don’t end up like the car carcasses on roadside that you pass every once in a while.
We drove by the Devil’s Marbles and stopped for the usual photo ops, nothing new for me, but it’s always nice to watch others enjoy the sights I found extraordinary The Stuart Highway doesn’t have much to offer on that stretch, so mostly, we just drove. The first time behind my own wheel and I ended up driving longer than I had ever driven before. It was just too much fun. From Threeway through Tennant Creek, Wauchope till Ti Tree, where we rolled into the gas station on our last drop of gas again. But the price of 1,75$/l was just a tad bit too insane for us, so we emptied one of the 20l jerry cans into the tank and I hopped into the back and passed out, exhausted. In Alice Springs, we walked down the Todd Mall, through a colorful market that had everything from arts and handicrafts to food (even a few stalls selling Chicken and Pork Adobo). Locals and tourists alike were enjoying the late afternoon on the one busy street of the city. Sights and smells distracted me, when our only mission in town was to find a supermarket and buy sparkling water and something yummy to drink. Driving into the city, we realized that finding a place to park and sleep for the night would mean either stopping early, driving down a 12km dirt road out of the way or driving almost 100km further than Alice. Also, we had the choice between no bathrooms or no water (showers are pretty much restricted to places that cost anyways). The boys solved this dilemma by deciding to add energy drinks and ice coffee to our shopping list and driving all the way to Uluru that night. I had done my share of driving and had a comfy little setup in the back, so as long as they promised not to hunt kangaroos with my van, I was fine with that plan.
Driving out of town, we waved goodbye to the last street lamps and dove into the darkness. All that was left were the yellow reflecting markers on the road and the white posts lining it. One “Die Drei Fragezeichen” episode after another, I drifted in and out of sleep and only really woke up during the two stops – one to check oil and realize that it was in desperate need of a top up (ooopps) and one at a ghost town of a gas station.
At 1:45am, we rolled onto a rest area right by the highway, 40km from the Rock, and parked next to te other vans and cars. In the pitch black and howling wind, we whipped out our surprisingly comfy camping chairs, drank a beer and set up camp for the night. This basically meant I was banned from my cozy bed and made do with the bed I had slept in the whole way down already. But then again, setting up the tent wouldn’t really have worked anyways, as it was “windy as fuck” as Moritz would say. The car next to us had already attempted it and was fighting to build some kind of shelter from the gusts with their car. Instead, we sat back, enjoyed the fact that we conquered the 1600km in two days and watched the occasional tumbleweed roll by – wild wild west in Northern Territory. In addition, I figured that me and my short legs would probably mind the cramped backseat less than my abnormally tall travel companions. And I’m just nice like that… Curled up and cuddled into my scarf and airplane blanket, natures air-conditioning set on the perfect temperature, I fell asleep in an instant.
Day 3 “Wet, Warm and Wonderful – the Many Moods of Uluru” 12.11.2010
Waking up and feeling a bit disoriented, I recalled the night before and remembered that we were already closer than planned to Uluru. Out one window, my tired eyes caught the colors of a beautiful sunrise, the horizon lightly colored with pale oranges and pinks. Out the other it looked like the end of days was creeping up on us – dark gunmetal gray without the slightest hint of blue, so dense and somber, it seemed like to ray of light would ever be able to penetrate it. The air was fresh and predicted that the sky, one endless storm cloud would soon open its floodgates upon us. It started as the first egg hit our frying pan. The cowboy breakfast of fried egg and beans on toast with lots of Tabasco was devoured trying to hide from the big fat drops of rain coming down sporadically, sometimes more sometimes less. But we managed to stay somewhat dry, hiding under the shelter made by the open trunk of the van, I smurfed up in my blue rain poncho, Robin had breakfast in bed, his head poking out the back.
Not really wanting to explore the National Park wet and wild style, we drove into the Ayers Rock Resort and snuck onto the campground. After making use of their piping hot showers (in which Robin saw the Redback, one of the deadliest spiders worldwide), we parked next to a site usually used by tourgroups and used the shelter to charge our laptops, make a hot cup of tea and cook Pasto (pasta with pesto). While some might regard this as not being the right way to do it, not paying and all, one has to remember that we are poor little backpackers, paying 25$ just to be in the vicinity of a big red rock in the desert. And we were definitely not the only ones just passing through to take care of hygiene and hunger… By the afternoon, the rain stopped and we decided to drive into the park and get the visit to the cultural centre out of the way and hope for a worthwhile sunset. Erratic as the weather here in Australia is, by the time we got out of the car at the cultural centre the sun was out. And while we were wrapped up in long pants and sweaters, shivering just 20 minutes before, the second the clouds let some light through it was shorts, t-shirt, warm and toasty.
We drove to the foot of Uluru, blue skies and red rock. Took pictures of us sitting on our trusty vehicle and watched a whole bus load of excited American pensioners, humpbacked and hobbling, “go touch the rock”.
We made it to the parking lot of the sunset viewing area just in time to grab our chill-chairs, roll a cigarette and crack a can of beer and plant ourselves right behind the wire fence. An Asian dude behind us started playing the drums, which made for more of a comic effect than a mystical one. And two American couples right behind us were desperately trying to take the perfect magic shot of romance at the rock. Glancing between the tourist attractions and the red rock one, the sun slowly went down behind us. A cloud in the way did darken the glowing burnt sienna to an ashen brown for a while, but just as we were about to give up on anything mind blowing and get back into the vans, the chairs already stowed away, the sun peeped out from under the one long cloud stretching across the horizon and Uluru’s magical glow emerged. In the end, the sky around it, the shapes and colors of the clouds, was what made the picture perfect moment.
We drove back to the campsite and borrowed their facilities again, cooked fried rice and then contemplated whether just parking ourselves somewhere and pretending to by paying customers would work. As the tour busses started rolling in to camp for the night, we hectically packed up, threw the food into Tupperware and decided that the rest area by the side of the road, our home sweet home from the night before, would do just fine.
Day 4 “Sun(what sun?)rise and the Valley of the Winds” 13.11.2010
I believe the last time I heard my alarm clock ring at 4am was to go watch the sunrise behind Uluru. This time, I was almost ready to turn back around and pretend I didn’t hear it. But sunrise is just as much part of the program when visiting the Red Centre as sunset it. So we did it - woke up, waited a few minutes for the park to be opened (3rd in line), drove to the spot between Kata Tjuta and Uluru and, still in our homey jogging pants and hoddies (I had to borrow one from Moritz because I was silly enough to send mine home), marked our territory on the viewing platform with our chairs and waited… Spectacularly unspectacular, the sky turned from dark blue-ish gray to pale gray and that was it. The silhouettes of Kata Tjuta were mysteriously beautiful, the tips of the bumpy rock formation covered by the low, rain-promising clouds.
What to do? The Climb wouldn’t be open, the weather was shitty and we were tired. The map of the national park lead us to the next picnic area with bathrooms and a parking lot. We parked, curled up, put on an episode of our three favorite detectives and crashed at the foot of the Olgas, their foggy panorama the last thing I saw through the windshield, before falling asleep on my backseat-bed.
It wasn’t raining when we woke up, so we set up another cowboy breakfast in the few parking lot next to us. Though at some point the smell of the water-less, long drop toilets being emptied down the street made it hard to breathe, it was a pretty relaxed second wake up call. By the time we had packed up the van again and had driven to the starting point of the Valley of the Winds walk, the sun was out and it was getting hotter by the second. To think that I was about to go on the hike wearing a jacket… and came back with a sun burnt décolleté, a big fat white stripe diagonally across left by my camera strap. I did realize that the months in Katherine, doing nothing but standing by the grading table, eating and smoking too much must have taken a toll on me, because the first incline did leave me a bit winded. We strayed off the path and climbed up a steep dome just to sit and enjoy the view from a different perspective for a while. Of course, just as I was about to catch up and reach the foot again, I tripped and fell and added yet another wound to my very (and I mean very!) mutilated legs – insect bites unconsciously scratched in my sleep, my accident on the field and various scratches, cuts, bumps and bruises acquired thanks to the not-very-klutz-friendly environment have left my legs, shins down to my toes, quite defaced. Oh well… In addition, our little trip uphill got us a little lecture by some square tourists – a guy telling us about staying on the path and his stiff lady friend, who couldn’t have been more than 4years older than me actually saying: “Kids, this is not a playground”. Ugh.
While resting on a dome above a little waterhole, I saw something move on the path below us. A lizard, a little dragon dinosaur, came strolling out of the bushes. His movements were elegant and relaxed, as he walked along the gravel way towards where we were sitting. He was around a meter and half long and beautiful. I was curious to see what he would do if I came closer, but wasn’t about to test it in the hopes of him not suddenly hissing and charging towards me with open jaws. We watched him till he slipped into the shrubbery, his long tail the last thing to disappear into the bush.
Back in the van, the feeling to have moved, to have spent time outdoors under the sun again spread through my body. My limbs were tired but warm and alive… We ignored the squeal of our rapidly declining account balances and checked into the campground that afternoon and spent the rest of the day barbequing sausages and then relaxing by a small bonfire burning marshmallows, munching on smores and damper (bread made of flour, salt and water, baked on a stick over the flames) and enjoying a glass of cheap rose.
Day 5 “Isn’t the Desert Supposed to be Hot and Dry? – On Our Way to Kings Canyon” 14.11.2010
Our earliest “natural” wake up so far, we were up by 7something, thunder rumbling in the distance. And only moments later it started raining. Rain, shine, rain – Sunlight illuminating the trees in front of the van, dark looming clouds behind it and a rainbow on the right. We took our time, knowing the chance to climb Uluru were pretty much zero. After filling the tank and refilling the ice in our eskies, we headed towards Kings Canyon. Turning onto the road leading towards the ranges, we turned straight into a storm. The rain started and didn’t stop anymore. More cars were heading towards us than in the same direction and the forecast read by the sky did not look promising. The road was not as straight and even as the highway, and the floodways got more and more filled the longer we drove, more and more potholes appeared around every bend we took. And then we stopped. Two caravans came to a standstill in front of a flooded part, the two men of the Aussie and English couple getting out to check the depth of the little river that was steadily flowing across the street. They came back saying it was about knee deep, a little sandy part in the middle might be a problem and they were not quite sure about driving through. While contemplating what to do, already pulled onto the side of the road, prepared to make a cozy cave of our van and chill till the sun dried up all the rain, a camper van came from the other side and drove straight through. After watching the two much bigger (and 4WD) caravans safely make it across, the offer of one of the driver to take the van through, getting some tips (1st gear, rev high and don’t slow down) and the insurance of the other that they would wait and had the gear to tow us out should we get bogged, I crossed my fingers and… we made it :) …We followed the two caravans all the way till Kings Canyon resort, reassured by the very friendly couples that, should some tricky parts lie ahead, they’d lend us a hand… Late afternoon we parked our car on an insanely expensive campsite and cooked lunch, only to be chased into the van halfway through our pasta by another downpour. The rest of the daylight and long into the night was spent with our laptops, pictures, writing and hoping the forecast for the next day - “mostly sunny” - would be accurate.
PS: Robin rocks (as Robin would say).
Day 6 “Standing on Top of the World” 16.11.2010
As every morning so far, I was up a bit earlier than the two others. A full car of Asians, Chinese by the sounds of it, had camped out next to our van, borrowed our pot to cook in the night before, scented the air with a very good smelling perfume-like bug repellant and woke me up that morning as they were packing up their car – things clattering to the ground, voices talking laughing creating an atmosphere of Saturday morning market in China Town. I lay around for a while longer, watched the sunny sky through the open door and listened to the early birds around us leave, either to hike the canyon or to head back towards the Stuart Highway. After a while, my productivity kicked in, just like it does at odd moments, such as Sunday morning after going out or late nights just after getting ready for bed, I started cleaning up the car, getting rid of the evidence of our evening in the cave – beer cans, empty bags of chips and accidentally dropped ashes. Despite the racket, he two did not wake up. I pulled out all the empty plastic bottles and went to fill them up, I made sure our laptops were charging and pulled the water kettle out to have a cup of tea. Although this meant opening car doors, fumbling around in the trunk right under their feet and dropping the occasional bottle, the two did not wake up. I recalled Robin talking about breakfast before falling asleep, already hungry for it and my own stomach was grumbling, so I set up the table and chairs, puller out everything for a major cowboy breakfast, including grilled sausages and onions, baked beans, egg, fresh tomato, toast or tortilla wraps and all the condiments and herbs we’ve got. Tabasco has become one of our main food groups in the last months and is mandatory starting breakfast… at some point, when everything was pretty much prepared, the two bodies in my trunk started rising from the dead. Breakfast hit the spot and even inspired me to open a bar that starts serving all kinds of different hangover breakfasts at 5:30am for the ones that are about to go home and serves breakfast till 4pm for those just waking up. Sound good?
The weather forecast had not failed us this time, the sun was out and it was hot. We arrived at King’s Canyon and started the toughest part, the steep ascent at the beginning, at around 11:15am. Huffing and Puffing, sweat already having drenched my back and hat, dripping down my temples and shirt we arrived on the top and caught our breath to the first magnificent sight of the canyons. Regardless of having seen it all before, the sheer magnitude and grandeur of it still blew me away. We took our time walking up on the plateau, stopping every few minutes to take a look down into the valley, to climb up on some domes to take some king-of-the-world photos or to stop and stare. Only shortly after we started, I had been watching some darker-than-friendly clouds on the horizon, it started raining. It was only a short downpour, but that didn’t mean we didn’t get wet. We hid out in a little cave like formation in one of the domes and waited till it had slowed down to a drizzle. Refreshed we continued on the tracked marked by blue arrows, not always following it the way the people of the national park probably planned us to, but taking the occasional adventurous path. Along the way we encountered a few funny lizards with reddish heads that, when running, looked like they were barely touching the ground. The punk-like crested pigeons, that were not in the least bit scared of us, bobbed their little stylish heads as they ran around on the red rocks. And we bumped into one of the friendly travelers who had been on our wet and wild adventure on the road the day before. He gave up a tip for a beautiful lookout spot and damn, he was right. With a perfect view onto a waterfall pouring down into the luscious dark green valley at the foot of the canyon, we sat at the edge and felt our stomachs lurch as our feet hung freely in the air, a couple of hundred meters above the jagged rocks that had broken off the walls of the canyon at some point. Trippy! …We took a dip in the Garden of Eden, there being much more water than during my first visit. A little waterfall gushed down into the hole surrounded by red cliffs on one and green palms and jungle growth on the other side. I lay down in the waterfall and let the icy water rejuvenate me. I could have lay there all day, but we had been on the hike for quite a while already and our stomachs were starting to complain again. On the way towards the final descent, we found a good spot to test our nerves again by lying down on our backs or fronts and hanging our head over the edge of the cliff. I tried it both ways, leaned back so far I turned the scenery upside down and stared straight down, my arms pulled forward as through I could fly. The slightest movement with my arms caused a jolt in the pit of my stomach, though just lying there, relaxing, staring out onto the green, the red, the blue, the big chasm of air right in front of and below you, it was kind of relaxing, meditative even.
We got back to the campsite tired and hungry and the first thing I longed for was a nice long shower. We replenished some energy with Mexican style pasta and then hit the road. I decided to take the first shift, since I’m not a big a fan of driving at night as Moritz and Robin. Plus, I really love the road that leads to Kings Canyon. Instead of the straight-ahead endless path towards the horizon, as the Stuart Highway feels like, this street curved and sloped and held surprises in store around the many bends. The landscape is one of the most beautiful I have seen, the Giles Ranges to one side, everything green and full of life. We passed a small herd of Brumbys right by the road, as we headed further towards the highway. The sun started to set and the music was perfect, a bit of Chicane, a bit of Kalkbrenner and driving was absolute bliss. I did end up driving a bit faster than planned (according to Moritz it was the music that made my foot heavy on the pedal), elated to be on this particular road, with that particular evening sky, this particular music pounding its base through my veins, with these particular people in the car – perfect last highlight in the Red Centre of Australia.
We drove quite a bit, with another stop in Alice Springs. To our disappointment, KFD was already closed, but we did find a 24h McDonalds and a supermarket open till 12, which we got to just before their doors closed. Home for the night was a rest area at the John McDowell Stuart Memorial, a point which was first declared the centre of Australia by the explorer. This theory was later proven wrong, but it did turn out to be the gravitational centre of Oz.
Day 7, 8 and 9 “Due North, in Need of Some Chill Time and the Spectacular Jumping Crocs Cruise” 17-19.11.2010
After yet another night on some parking lot/rest area along the road, road trains rumbling by at all hours of the night and at the break of dawn, other travelers sleeping in their vehicles next to us and noisy passers by speaking funny languages waking you from your slumber, we decided that we deserved some chill time. Plus, all the flies in the Northern Territory, which had been driving us mad for the entire trip already, seemed to have conglomerated in front of our van, just waiting for an innocent sleepy victim to dare and step foot out of it to go to the bathroom. After a split second outside, a whole swarm settled on back and arms, while a second zeroed in on the face, torpedoing into ears, eyes, mouth and nose. No doubt about it, breakfast here was out of the question. In no rush to get anywhere (but a bit in a rush to eat), we drove into good ol’ Katherine in search of a relaxed campsite to hang out on. However, the one everyone had been raving about turned out to be more of a swamp than a campground. The cicadas were as loud as a jet engine, mutated geese hung out on the paths and the marshy ground, freshly boggy from the rain, seamlessly flowed into ponds and rivulets – paradise for mosquitoes and swamp creatures. So instead, we hit the road again. Stopped along the way to clean out the car, gather dirty clothes strewn all over the mobile home and cook lunch.
We drove till Adelaide River, the little town made “famous” by the water buffalo in Crocodile Dundee, which now stands proud in a roadside pub. Our trusty travelers bible Camps5 suggested a campsite by the show grounds, which turned out to be the best tip so far. For only 5$ per person, we parked the white home on wheels on a beautiful lawn, facing the small horserace track on which kangaroos grazed. There were no other campers, only old(er) people living in their caravans that had nothing better to do than fix up their homes and talk to their dogs. The small pool was heavenly fresh and cool and the facilities were clean and homey. We enjoyed it so much, well the campsite and the main activity we chose to spend our time doing – absolutely nothing! – that we decided to stay another night. I lazed by the pool for a few hours and got sunburned, Moritz lay out on the lawn for much less than a few hours and got sunburned. During the short rainfall in the afternoon, the van was converted to a cinema cave, our screen a 13inch Macbook and our sound system the falling apart speakers… Doing nothing can make you pretty tired, so we ended up going to bed relatively early.
The next morning we were almost chased from the campgrounds, because we didn’t leave by 10 (but an hour and 15mins later) by the fat caretaker on his bike. Too bad, he actually seemed like a pretty relaxed guy… The drive to the Spectacular Jumping Crocs Cruise, the final attraction us tourists were planning on visiting, was rather uneventful, aside from the fact that it turned out to be our first dirt road drive. The group on the boat was small and the guide, a cheerful young blonde, was talkative. The second we pulled onto the murky brown river, two crocs appeared and started heading towards the boat. The smaller one disappeared quite quickly, seeing that 5m Mike, the second largest croc in the area, had already staked the claim on the first chunk of meat. We were explained that these saltwater crocs are cannibals and will kill each other for food – I think I would have left as well. Mike, short for Michael Jackson due to his unusually light coloring, was a huge mean looking fellow. A bit slow and lazy, but I wouldn’t want to test that theory by dangling my feet into the water. A big piece of meat was splashed in the water and then dangled from a long pole. Apparently, crocs have great eyesight and even see in color, so we were to watch out not to hang any limbs from the boat when one was near. It was quite amazing to watch such a seemingly slow and heavy creature lift half his body out of the water to snap at the meat… Further down the river, we saw a few smaller ones buried in the slick mud of the riverbanks and observed as a baby devoured a few bits of meat, while the two guides cooed and awed over it as if it were their own child. We parked by a little path leading away from the beach to catch a glimpse of the largest croc around there – 6m, around 100 years old and an estimated 13 girlfriends. Pretty impressive, eh?... Another highlight was the feeding of the birds. As we turned around to head back down the river, one of the guides started waving her arms and instantly some hawks and eagles showed up, swooped down really close to the boat, caught little pieces of meat in their claws and popped them into their beaks midflight. We even got to see a large eagle, who had just fought off an attack by a smaller one, follow the boat and then dive in to rip a large piece of meat from the end of the pole… So our last afternoon was spent watching large birds and large crocs eat and walking off that boat I could hear my own stomach grumbling. So the first thing we did in Darwin was pay a visit to the golden arches to satisfy our own carnivorous cravings.
A short time in the city and it was already time for Robin and Moritz to pack up their backpacks and drive out to the airport… Lucky them, I must admit I was a bit jealous. The air in the airport, the check in counters – made me want to jet set to some other place for a while too… We said our goodbyes and see-you-soons (if you happen to be reading this, yes, I will miss you hehe) and I headed back into town and checked into Elke’s Backpackers, a cute little quiet hostel with jungle flair and a parking lot (which is helpful if you don’t feel like paying for parking or a parking ticket in this city). Back in Darwin for the third time, it will feel wonderful leaving and knowing that it won’t be too soon before I’m back here (if ever). And back on my own again, at least until I head back to the air port and pick up mommy dearest and dive straight into the next adventure… but for now, a real bed, air conditioning, a bathroom just steps away and the absence of flies and mosquitoes are much appreciated.
