Litchfield

I finally woke up after my alarm had gone off the fourth time (every 5 minutes), thus ensuring my enduring popularity with my three room-mates. Starved of sleep and still with plenty to do (breakfast, repacking bags, withdrawing cash) before my tour pick-up, I sprang stealthily, panther-like, into action…precipitating the kind of sound one might expect from the demolition of the Eiffel Tower. The squealing, tortured-metal protestations of my bunk easily outshone the laboured air-con unit and made sure that all of my roomies were wide-wide-awake at 5.45am. The racket continued for a further minute as I removed boots and phone-charger into the corridor, followed by three bags and bedding from the metal torture-device…and it was no surprise to see all three disgruntled chaps stomp out of the room in fairly quick succession to answer nature's call, while I was putting on socks and tying up my laces in the corridor. To be honest, if Lars Ulrich had played me out with a full, extemporised drum solo, I don't think I could have disturbed these guys any more. But there wasn't a great deal I could do about it.

I made a breakfast of porridge, discovered on reading my e-mails that my prepay card had finally been credited and was thus able to withdraw cash and purchase internet time to upload blog entries.

At 6:45, I wandered two doors down to the Adventure Tours office and loitered with intent along with a couple of other guys, who were also joining the same trip as me. Shortly, a truck pulled up, which was basically like a 7 tonne light-goods vehicle from the front, but with a double cab, high ground clearance and the load area basically converted into a minibus with windows and coach seats. There were various compartments under the seats and a luggage loadspace at the back…and this 4WD drive beast was to be our transport for the next few days.

I found a space in the second cab, joined by a rather garrulous 50-odd-year old Canadian, called John. When I say garrulous, what I meant of course is that John talked a lot. Almost like a nervous tick, a lot. On finding out he was in IT back home, I came to an early conclusion that he didn't get much chance to talk at work and so saved it all up for holidays. Later on, I decided that he just allowed whatever was in his mind to come out, free-flow. And I realised after a bit that this didn't require listening or responding to…which came as a great relief! He had a heart of gold, was very helpful and would have been hurt to be told that he talked too much…but after a week of travelling independently, I found that first morning sharing the back seat of the truck a little wearing, to say the least.

Our guide, Debden, was the complete antithesis of John. Laconic, laid-back, a man of few words - and yet, highly knowledgeable about the locality and its flora and fauna. He was a Kiwi, who had settled in Darwin almost 15 years ago and had been working with Adventure Tours for the past 14. I could tell within 5 minutes of his terse commentary, that we had landed on our feet with this guy and I knew that I was going to love the tour.

We drove due south of Darwin towards Litchfield National Park. Interested in learning about what Debden was telling us, I managed to fight off the urge to sleep and listened while he  explained the history of the local human geography. How Darwin had grown with the expansion of the mining industry, recovering both from Japanese bombing in WWII and a Force 5 cyclone in 1974 to become the modern city today with a population of about 130,000. Vast tracts of industrial and light-industrial land had replaced the bush surrounding the city in Debden's time here and you could hear his regret and love for the land in the simple, honest way he told us of the coming of the Roadtrains and mining companies. The most noticeable impact - as felt by everybody in our vehicle - were the exorbitant prices for everything, brought about by the massive inflation that accompanies imported, overpaid workforces the world over. I'd seen similar disparities between local and expat earnings in places like Cambodia and Nepal before and the problems it brought, such as locals struggling to afford basic goods and equipment. This same issue was affecting Debden, not to mention the whole tourist trade in Darwin, which was half the size it had been a decade previously - money-conscious backpackers voting with their feet and heading to cheaper destinations.

The environmental damage caused by the expansion of mining activities and the concomitant support services were also themes that Debden informed us about - including his outrage that Darwin was the only city where road trains were able to come all the way into the city (elsewhere they are broken down into normal one or two trailer loads), which had resulted in several nasty accidents, including two fatal, in the last two years. Darwin Airport is also the only airport in Oz that allows flights 24/7 - obviously a great convenience for mine owners, shipping in skilled staff from anywhere in the world…but not so good for the ozone layer hole, steadily growing above Australia, nor the local birdlife in this bio-diverse corner of the world.

The dead centre of the Northern Territory?

A fairly decent sized dwelling

Battlements

We stopped to take a closer look at the Magnetic Termite mounds that dotted the bush like a graveyard alongside the main road - I had no idea that they were found in Australia but I did know that their orientation was to do with temperature control, allowing them to absorb warmth on only one side during the morning and late afternoon, but absorbing minimal heat in the midday sun, as they presented their narrowest side to this harsher radiation. Debden explained that we weren't scheduled to stop by the highway like this as there was an official Magnetic Termite viewing site at the National Park…but that you were fenced off from the actual mounds and that there would be loads of other people there too. No chance to get up close to see the construction or feel the rough texture of the mounds. This only confirmed my belief that Debden was the kind of guide everybody wants - the kind that knows where the best stuff is and is prepared to change the programme to get to it. 

Evidence of a recent managed burn

On the way back to the truck, he pointed out evidence of managed burning, deliberately started by rangers (majority of aboriginal backgrounds) at the start of the dry season to reduce the amount of tinder-dry material lying around by the time lightning season comes at the end of the Dry. This ancient technique of land management has been practiced by Aborigines for centuries but, with the move into towns and cities, valuable knowledge of such skills had been lost. Only in recent decades had the old practice been brought back, leading to a huge reduction in the number of out-of-control wildfires within National Parks. Unfortunately, as Debden pointed out, most other landowners (eg. cattle ranchers) did not practise the technique, leading to huge destruction in land around the National Parks and, occasionally, fires leaping over the boundaries and damaging the parks. Back in the truck, Debden stowed the microphone and I allowed myself to drift off until we reached our morning's destination - as much from exhaustion as to avoid listening to John witter on. 

Cathedral termite mound

We did stop again to get some close-ups of the enormous Cathedral termite mounds and, bounding off through the bush, I finally spotted my first live marsupial - a wallaby, rather than a kangaroo. It made a pleasant change from all the furry corpses I'd seen by the roadside up until this point…and, now that the hire car was safely returned, I hoped to see many more.

We pulled up at a place called Florence Creek and Debden explained that a short walk would bring us out to a series of small cascades and swimming holes, which would continue downstream for about 1.5km, ending in Florence Falls, a spectacular 15metre-high double falls, with a deep plunge pool. He told us to take swimmers, sun lotion and water and arranged to meet us at the picnic grounds at the bottom in three hours time for lunch. Perfect…now this really was my kind of tour, being left to our own devices where possible.

Swimming time

A shady spot

Florence falls from the lookout...

...and from the plunge pool

I headed off to find some peace and quiet in the warm, late-morning sun but soon found that I had a tag-along…yes, you've guessed it, John. I didn't get much peace and quiet, although I did have a very pleasant couple of hours, moving slowly downstream diving, bombing and swimming in pools of various depths and sizes. They were all full of the same beautiful, crystal-clear (and relatively warm) water and equally bathed in warm sunshine. John kindly took some photos of me in the water with his underwater camera, promising to send them on to me if I gave him my e-mail address. I'm not sure the German girls in their bikinis (part of our group) appreciated the offer or the photos quite so much but John had a little transatlantic rhino-hide quality to him and, sure that he was entirely innocent, I'd have to put his lack of awareness down to minor social ineptness. 

As we neared the bottom, I have to admit to ditching him as I couldn't bear to stop and look at another inconsequential oddity that he'd noticed in the bush by the path. I pleaded a need for shade and continued walking while he stopped to peer at some unfamiliar plant or insect. Shortly afterwards I arrived at the picnic spot, well ahead of schedule and found a nice shady rock out in the stream to perch myself on and be surrounded by the merry, gurgling burbling of the water and the soft whisperings of the trees in the gentle breeze. Twenty minutes of this was enough to restore my equilibrium and cool down, so I continued on down to Florence Falls, had a swim in the plunge pool, which was a little cooler than the upper pools and then took the Shady Creek walk back up the hill. This alternative return route instantaneously brought rewards when a loud screeching directed my attention to a bunch of fruit bats roosting in a tree by the path. They were far bigger than I'd imagined - probably the size of a kitten let's say - and their wingspans were a good 2-2.5 feet across. The path continued to bring pleasant surprises, including a range of butterflies and birds that Darwin would have had difficulty in cataloguing. I arrived back at the picnic spot in perfect time to get stuck into barbecued hotdogs and salad. So far it had been an excellent day.

Don't be scared...I don't bite...honest!

Shady Creek

Debden (left) with the first barbecue meal of many :-)

Back in the truck,. we drove on to the Corroboree Billabong, part of the Mary River system. Here in Australia, rivers are not simple, linear entities with regular flow and predictable positions, as one is used to in Europe. In the wet season they become raging torrents, widespread deltas and, basically, floods over extremely wide areas. So 'river system' is how the vast area affected by this seasonal, fluvial activity is known. A billabong is a body of non-flowing water that has become disconnected from the main body of the river when the wet season water levels have dropped. Over the course of the dry season, this water will shrink due to seepage and evaporation, concentrating all manner of wildlife into a smaller and smaller area, united by the universal need for water. And, of course, where life concentrates, predators gather. Specifically, crocodiles!

We were given a tour of the billabong by Jim in a covered skiff and we were treated to an enormous variety of birdlife. But there wasn't a single one of us aboard that didn't thrill at the merest hint of a croc, of which we saw five of the saltwater variety and one 'freshie'. The salties are not, as their name suggests, to be found only in saltwater. In fact, due to an ability to purge excess salt from their system, they are able to survive in saline water, but are just as at home in fresh water. The freshwater crocs, on the other hand, are limited solely to non-tidal rivers and streams and freshwater lakes. At this time of year, most of the crocs were pretty lethargic - sitting in the sun, in order to build their body temperatures up to operating speed, when they become a deadly predator. However, there was one fella lurking in the lotus water lilies and, judging by the size of his head, which was roughly the length of my arm, according to Jim he was probably in excess of 5m! As Jim explained, even smaller salties will attempt to take chunks out of anything that moves…having been at the top of the food chain for millions of years, in their tiny walnut-sized mind, anything that moves is automatically food. I could see everybody in the boat mentally moving crocodiles up past the snakes and spiders on the list of 'Things Most Likely to Kill me in Australia' inside their heads. I certainly did. Due to the changing nature of the waterways in the Northern Territories, it was clear that these archaic beasts could be found in almost any location near fresh or saltwater…and we would need to be vigilant in their back yard. The highlight of the non-crocodile fauna was definitely the jabiru - an enormous, bright-legged stork with beautiful iridescent blue plumage…but it was the crocs we were all talking about as we trooped back onto the truck for our final journey of the day.

Young Saltie - as evidenced by its lighter markings

Another, slightly older chap about 2.5m long

Getting bigger!

Lurking...

Now you see me, now you don't!

...and a harmless little Freshie

Plumed Whistler Ducks

Magpie Geese

Comb-crested Jacana - also known as the Jesus Bird for his apparent ability
to walk on water (lily pads!)

White-bellied Sea Eagle

Eastern Great Egret

Glossy Ibis

Darter - also known as Snake Head bird due to swimming mainly
submerged except for this snake-like head

Lotus lilies

Jabiru!

Our final destination was a campground about twenty minutes away and it was here that Debden informed us that we would be camping out under the stars using traditional Aussie swags. I was both delighted and annoyed with myself because I was keen to sleep in the great outdoors…but had left my Exped Synmat (the height of inflatable, portable, bedware) in Darwin, mistakenly thinking that we would be sleeping in camp cots in tents. My understanding of a swag was basically a divvy bag - a heavy-duty, canvas pocket in which one slept inside a sleeping bag. However, as I soon discovered, the swag also includes a foam rubber mattress…and the one in my swag was thick and comfortable. :-) Out of respect for my as-yet-unfamiliar tour buddies, I set up my swag a couple of hundred metres away from the campfire in a small clearing with uninterrupted views of the southern skies. 

A Dutch girl called Lieke and I walked the short distance to the viewpoint to find that we'd just missed sunset, although there was still plenty of colour and light in the sky for a few good photos. We went back to the campfire where I took it upon myself to find out everyone's names and to introduce us all to each other. Considering the overwhelming number of British accents I'd heard in Darwin, I was surprised to find myself the only Brit out of our group of 11 (plus Debden making 12). There were three German girls: Jasmin and Annike (early twenties, at a guess), who were travelling together, who had good English but were shy of speaking it; and Inge (mid-twenties), who was travelling independently and was, by far, the chattiest member of the group (dare I say, after me!). There was a young Swedish couple Marten and Amelie (both 20); Nengs (from Hong Kong) and Tom (from South Korea) - a very sweet couple who had met whilst both working in Oz and who were on their final holiday there together before Tom had to return to Korea; Lieke, a tulip-heiress on a gap-year; Raphael, a Swiss architect; John and me. Everybody else was comfortably under thirty, apart from John and I, which I guess was why he had gravitated towards me, as his nearest peer. Everyone was very pleasant, although the two couples were inclined to being more insular (understandably) and the German girls tended to be most comfortable conversing with each other in their mother tongue. Raphael was very reticent, although perfectly interesting in conversation - perhaps someone who preferred his own company but had joined the tour for convenience's sake. So, the majority of the conversation was amongst Lieke, Inge, John and myself - with Debden keeping his hand in when not busy with dinner and logistical matters. Inge was the most entertaining and had a particularly non-Germanic sense of humour and a penchant for a beer or two. She had been studying in Sydney and was coming to the end of her year in Oz, making sure she went out with a bang before heading home via New Zealand.

After a long day and with another early start at 6:30am, we all went to bed shortly after 9, to enjoy a bit of star-gazing as we were surrounded by the millions of bright pin-pricks of light - and even treated to the faint, wispy glow of the Milky Way, before this was smothered by the bright glow of the full moon. With earplugs in, I slept like a log and knew nothing more until my alarm woke me (at the first time of asking) in the morning.

Swagman's Rest

A little visitor to our camp kitchen (a mantis)