Fogg’s Dam, Litchfield, Dakota diving and Kakadu

My gracious hostess!

My gracious hostess!

A veritable nature trail over my handful of days here. On Thursday, Katie and Ben drove me to the nearby Fogg’s Dam reserve. It’s quite a small place, but very pretty and loaded with birds. There are a handful of crocs around here, too – one persistent salty in particular – but mainly it’s our avian friends who make it what it is.

Mein hosts, and my other co-tenant, Toni – are regular visitors down here so I had the common birds pointed out to me as we crawled ever so slowly towards the picnic point in the car. We didn’t see the croc, but we did have an enjoyable couple of hours watching the feathered world go by and eating sandwiches.

Katie was back at work, but Ben off on Friday. I dropped the van back off at Apollo where I found I’d only used $560 of my $750 fuel allowance, as well as making the journey in three of the five days allotted. I still think I could do it in two. Everything was ship-shape and I just have to wait for my deposit and fuel fees to be restored to my credit card. I’m hoping the exchange rate works in my favour for this! Either way, I defy anyone else to find a way of getting from Cairns to Carwin for less than $5.

As an aside, I recall mentioning the problems I had filling the van with fuel. It turns out this is an inherent problem with the modifications made by Toyota themselves to tutn the Hilux into a motorhome. The pipe to the fuel tank is severed, then joined to an extended section by a rubber hose link. This bodge job makes the thing a nightmare to put fuel into – the diesel keeps bubbling up so you have to drip feed it.

It's grown!

It's grown!

One way around it is to use the funnel and pipe doo-hicky that should be stored in one of the external “cupboards” on the van. It’s meant to be used when you’re filling up from the jerry cans, but there’s no reason you can’t jam it in place and then shove the fuel pump nozzle into the funnel. The tube bypasses the problem area in the filling area and the fuel flows directly into the tank a lot faster.

After the van was back in the hands of the hire company, Ben drove me down to Litchfield National Park. I’d last visited here in August 2006 towards the end of the dry season. Everything was – as you’d expect – barren and dusty. This time, however, it was a much greener Litchfield that awaited me. I also swear the termite mounds had grown a good metre of so!

Not shy

Not shy

We lolled in the Buley Rockhole for an hour or so, where a decent-sized monitor lizard put in an appearance. Afterwards we visited the Florence Falls for a further dip. I’d been here on my last trip, but hadn’t been able to swim with my camera. This time I got some nice underwater photos and a bit of video around the back of the very noisy waterfall. At some point, that’ll make its way to YouTube.

Saturday was an easy day. I checked my emails at Katie’s work then sorted out my Japanese Rail Pass (after a fashion) in town. Essentially, it was impossible to get one from Flight Centre as they would have to order it, get it couriered up and then couriered down to Cairns. I’d have been very lucky to get it in time. Instead, their Cairns branch pointed me in the direction of another company in Cairns itself which will sort me one out in about 30 minutes. I’ll be heading there on Wednesday if I eventually make my mind up that the pass is worth getting.

Just chillin'

Just chillin'

On Sunday, I had another email check followed by a dive with Coral Divers. Just the one due to the nature of the tides in the Darwin area. This was my umpteenth wreck dive but the first time I’ve seen an plane underwater. It’s an old Dakota which ditched during a training or test flight in 1947. It was discovered in 2006, and a bunch of the loose artifacts were stolen late in 2008 by some scavenging filthbag.

The visibility was akin to “English diving” according to the skipper. In other words, poor. However, you’re down there to look at an object in this case – and not a large one – so visibility’s not the issue it could be elsewhere. It’s certainly an interesting wreck. Approximately half of the plane is present, and it has an abundance of coral growing from it. Many, many small glass fish surround it with a handful of larger specimens swimming around or “sitting” on the wings not caring how close you get to them.

Underwater life

Underwater life

I managed around 45 minutes with my buddy Ulrika – a German with a strong Glaswegian accent! In fact, she became the first German who I have ever heard say “cheerio” as I departed after the dive. No pictures, sorry. I had my camera with me, but didn’t take it down when I heard the visibility was poor. A shame, as I would have got some great shots of the larger fish.

The end of the nature trail was on Monday as I joined a coach trip around Kakadu. This is an enormous national park (around 20000 km²) and quite a distance from Darwin itself. Katie very kindly dropped me off on the Stuart Highway where the bus could pick me up without me having to go all the way into Darwin.

VVVRRRMMM!

VVVRRRMMM!

Our driver/guide was Marcel from the Netherlands. He’s now resident in Oz and used to own a hostel. As the day went on, things started to sound vaguely familiar regarding the place he used to run. I checked the name – Gecko Lodge.

This is the first place I ever stayed in on my first visit to Oz back in August 2006. Marcel cooked my first ever Aussie meal for me (well, he made the breakfast pancakes). I saw my first ever possum digging through the bin in the back yard of the Lodge.

Talk about a small world. It turns out he got sick of running the place a year or so ago and sold up to a Vietnamese woman who’s apparently still trying to turn a profit from it. Pretty much full circle – from my very first day in Oz to what is likely to be my third from last for some time to come.

Rock painting

Rock painting

Kakadu, as I mentioned, is big. Really big. Vastly, hugely, mindbogglingly big. In fact,you may think it’s a long walk down the road to the chemist’s, but that just peanuts compared to Kakadu (5 points if you can name the author I just ripped off). As such it is definitely better tackled as a two or three day visit with overnight camping. I had been told this before but these trips are expensive and I didn’t have three whole days. I would also recommend getting there about two weeks later in the year than I did to give the waters a chance to go down. This will bring more crocs out so you have a chance of seeing them.

However, it’s truly spectacular so close to the end of the wet season. The greenery is amazing. Marcel pointed out that a lot of this is already dying. Areas we passed that were green today would be brown within 48 hours. The natives would also deliberately burn some areas back to refertilise the soil.

Pretty, innit?

Pretty, innit?

I was on the lookout for rock wallabies, but didn’t see any. However, I think I’d be disappointed anyway. My first thought was of a small kangaroo-like creature with long hair, playing guitar and head-banging but apparently they’re just like other wallabies only a bit smaller. Ah, well.

Although we had a lot of driving and not so much stopping, Marcel was full of information relating to the history, geography, Aboriginal stories, wildlife and so forth of the area.

We stopped at three main areas (plus lunch): the Anbangbang rock art “gallery”, an indiginous culture museum and Yellow Waters where we had a 90-minute boat trip.

Anbangbang is not a huge area, but chock full of rock art. This is essentally hand-painting on the rock walls which is fine and dandy as it’s really old, but far more interesting when you have a guide explaining what it all means. As with virtually all Aboriginal places, we don’t have the full story and we never will. As non-Aboriginals we’re “children” so we can’t be told everything that an of-age man or woman of Aboriginal descent could be.

Not shy at all

Not shy at all

Their belief system is very much unique as far as I’m aware, but at least they’re closer to the actual age of the world (or “country” as they would put it) than the Christian church. The Creationists will have you believe it’s around 6000 years. These uncultured heathens from backwater Australia are fairly sure it’s 65,000 as that’s as far back as their history goes. I’m still gunning for a few billion, but 65,000 is closer!

Hearing Marcel explain a lot of the ways Aboriginals look at life it’s pretty easy to understand how they and we could never really see eye to eye on a lot of fundamental things. The whole concept of possession, of owning something, simply doesn’t exist to the Aboriginals. Everything that exists is somehow related to everything else. To own something is to own a part of a thing of which you yourself are a part. It’s pointless so therefore they just don’t think of ownership in the way we do.

I hope I explained that correctly, but it was a superb example of how wildly different their mindset is from ours.

The culture museum filled in a few gaps, but by the time we got there Marcel had told us an incredible amount. It really just showed us physical examples of any of the things he’d talked about.

After lunch we hit Yellow River for our boat trip. Our group was joined by quite a few third-party members of the public and a fully-laden boat headed off into the waters. It was slow-paced, but we did see just about everything the captain had hoped we would. Many of the birds I’d already seen at Fogg’s Dam but it was good to get more information about them. And of course, a crocodile put in an appearance right at the end. Around 3.50m long and completely unphased at being shadowed by a boat full of tourists.

Oh, and a young girl pee’d herself at the front of the boat. That was kind of funny as the little sod had tried to steal my cap earlier, then kicked me in the knee when I stopped her. I hope she gets a (mild, easily-treated but marginally uncomfortable in the short term) rash.

After this, it was a bus back to Darwin. Most of the guests slept while I talked to Marcel. Katie, bless her, drove out to the Stuart Highway to get me despite me saying I could walk back to hers.

This was a special day for her and Ben, too. They were handed the keys of their first ever house this morning. I remember that feeling… Along with little Scrappy (their cute puppy) I’m sure they’ll make it a home in no time.

So tomorrow I’m helping Ben pack and transport boxes from their rented place to the new house. My flight to Cairns is at 5am on Wednesday morning so I reckon I’ll be dropped at the airport late on Tuesday night. I’d hardly expect a lift there at 3am! And I suspect this blog post won’t make it online until I get to Cairns either.

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Cairns to Darwin – Day 3 (2850km later)

*SPLAT*

*SPLAT*

Time for the final stint. I woke and had a simple breakfast of very bad cereal. What country would allow Sugar Puffs without the sugar onto the market? It’s like grains of polystyrene only more tasteless. And I bought it by accident.

Orienting myself again using the sun, shadow positions, bird flight patterns, and the road signs I began the long trip north. I remembered the details from my bus trip a couple of years ago. There are really only two directions to go from here and one of them’s the wrong one.

The road up to Darwin is incredilby straight in places. Actually, the east/west Flinders Highway is the same. It’s especially bizarre at night. In the distance you see some headlights so you dip yours. The other vehicle reciprocates. Then sometime around the following Tuesday you finally pass each others.

These roads are long. And straight. A bend is a major event to be celebrated with fanfares and – in extreme cases – waking the driver up. Especially so when you’re in an automatic with cruise control.

This is the first time I’ve ever had a use for cruise control. I had it on one of my old Golfs but it’d just pointless in the UK as there’s too much traffic. As soon as you get your speed level, someone cuts you up or you hit a queue. Here, however, there’s knack all traffic. Two cars in five minutes is gridlock.

Thankfully, the day passed quickly enough. I stopped for lunch at Newcastle Waters, fuel in more places than I can remember and at Daly Waters‘ wonderful pub for a (light) beer where I talked to a couple of holidaymakers from the UK.

Quick stop

Quick stop

I did make one other stop to fill up from the large canisters I’d had stored in the van. In a bid to ensure I didn’t run out somewhere in the middle of nowhere – and also to save cash in case I hit the $750 limit – I’d filled these up in Cairns. Moving the fuel from the canisters to the tank in the van proved to be fiddly for a one-person job and only a small amount of the diesel want on my clothes.

It is a useful idea if you’re going to drive around here to get a large canister like this and fill it at each cheap place. Use it to top up before you resort to the expensive fuel pumps. The fuel price can be as much as 40c per litre dearer (maybe more) at the roadhouses than in larger cities. For the record, Katherine has cheap fuel, as do Darwin and Mt Isa. Filling up in Katherine should get you to Darwin.

So finally I came within sight of Darwin. I contacted Katie and she told me she lived just south of the city – just off the exit I was about to reach, as luck would have it. I met her at McD‘s and followed her back to her house where I met her other half, the neighbours and – as the night went on – a handful of her friends.

Beers were drunk, plans made, food eaten, puppies played with and – eventually – blog posts typed up.

Great watering hole

Great watering hole

As Katie’s moving house very shortly, she’s cancelled their home internet so I don’t have full-time access. However, I know I’ve got a lost of things to sort before I go and they’re all in my to-do list!

It’s now approaching midnight. I have a comfy fold-down bed and I’ve enjoyed a nice hot shower. I’m looking forward to a decent snooze and a relaxing day out tomorrow.

And someone else is doing the driving.

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Cairns to Darwin – Day 2

Breakfast on the go

Breakfast on the go

I woke, packed up the van and headed south to the first picnic spot I could find. Here I parked up again and prepared breakfast: sausage sandwiches and HP sauce. Yummy. It was stinking hot and not even 9am when I put all the food stuff away and headed south.

I’d have preferred to have continued west along the Developmental Road but as it’s unpaved in parts I wasn’t allowed. So south it was to Cloncurry and through Mt Isa again. Legend has it that once you cross the river in Mt Isa then you’re bound by supernatural laws to return to the city. Well, I crossed the river a few days ago and I was indeed back again! This time, though, my stay was barely an hour.

I filled up (twice), had a McFlurry so I could get some free wi-fi and bought some beers for later. The reason I filled up twice was due to a problem with the van. When it was hot (pretty much after it had been running for more than an hour) it would make any fuel squirted into it “froth” and spill back out. As such, filling it was a very slow and tedious process. At some times I was lucky to get 1l of diesel per minute into the tank. The first time I stopped, I thought I had filled it but when I got in I found I’d only made it to the 3/4 mark. Hence a second stop to put another 10l in.

Another border crossing

Another border crossing

West it was. I passed the border into the Northern Territory at around 6pm and duly put my watch back half an hour to cater for the time difference. As duck fell, the insects arrived in their droves and made little “tak” noises as they squirted their innards all over my windscreen (which now sported an impressive chip courtesy of a road train and a piece of gravel).

Some of these insects were the size of small birds, although the effect when they hit the windscreen were different. Birds made more of a “whump” sound before whipping over the top of the van and not leaving a mark.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t aim for birds. The opposite, I tried to swerve and slow to avoid them but the smaller ones in particular were just intent (it seemed) on bouncing off the van. Maybe it’s some weird avian version of “dare” but they’d fly into the path of the van, often flutter away and then cut back in again at the last second in a bid to make me duck pointlessly behind the steering wheel as they “whump”-ed harmlessly (for me) overhead.

Oh, I think I got a snake as well. Although it could have been a bit of old tyre rubber. I couldn’t avoid it as there was a car coming in the opposite lane at the same time so there was no swerve space.

Anyway, after driving through the dark for some time I made it off the westbound road and up onto the Stuart Highway which connects Adelaide with Darwin. I’d been up here before, but there was little other choice. I had toyed with the Tableland route, but the distance between roadhouses was too far.

Food, drink, expensive diesel

Food, drink, expensive diesel

I hit the 3-Ways roadhouse for some fuel and a leg-stretch, pushed north a bit and pulled into a picnic/rest area. Amazingly – and wonderfully – a lot of these are clearly marked as allowing 24-hour camping. So if you’re not bothered about showers or electricity then they make for a great place to pitch for the night. Many have toilets and barbequeues as well as seating areas and information posters. The one I stopped at already had about six vehicles parked up, the occupants – I assumed – already in the land of Nod.

After prepping the van so I’d not concuss myself should I roll over in bed, I joined them.

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Cairns to Darwin – Day 1

Pretty view

Pretty view

I walked up to Apollo’s office early doors to collect the camper van. After filling in a gazillion bits of paperwork and watching a DVD on its operation, I was handed the keys and sent on my way. There were various provisos: I couldn’t take it off unsealed road except to get to campsites and the like; I had 2950km allotted for free; $750 fuel allowance. This restricted the route I wanted to take slightly, but hey-ho. At $1 per day I wasn’t going to complain.

The van I was relocating turned out to be a 3l Toyota Hilux with a small house stapled to the back of it. The inside had basic furnishings and the roof was raised and lowered for camping to give more headroom. Nice enough. I checked everything was OK and set off into town.

First stop was Woolies to get some food, then I tried to find somewhere to get a cable to connect my MP3 player to the van stereo. A simple 2-ended stereo jack lead was going to cost me $20 in the places I found them so I decided not to bother and just listen with my headphones instead.

As I headed back to the van after my third stop, I suddenly realised my head was a day out. I thought it was Sunday and therefore free parking all over Cairns. But it wasn’t. It was Monday. And if I hadn’t paid, I risked a ticket. Oops. Fortunately, nothing awaited my return so I got away with it. I don’t think parking wardens care about “honest mistakes”.

Nothing to do with beans

Nothing to do with beans

And so the journey began. With the fridge and food box laden, I headed south as far as Ingham then tweaked west along one of the lesser-used roads. Rather than driving all the way south back to Townsville, I thought I’d go for variety.

My first rest stop was at Crawford’s Lookout, over the Johnstone River. I hopped out here to enjoy the view and decided to walk down the 1.7km trail to the next viewpoint. Around 100m in I encountered my first ever wild snake. Thankfully he/she wasn’t that wild, and slithered off into the undergrowth when I stomped nearby. I have no idea what kind of snake it was – just black and about a metre long.

The view from what turned out to be the emergency helicopter landing pad was quite impressive. I could have walked down to the river itself, but I didn’t feel that I had the time. Instead I walked back to the van and drove further down the road to a picnic spot where I used the free stove they provided to make myself some soup for lunch.

High up

High up

Following the windy road to Normanton – which I aimed to reach before sleeping – I passed an enormous amount of nice countryside. It was lush to start with but as I progressed west, the greenery gave way to scraggy dry bush. Windy Hill was the last green place I stopped – an area with 20 wind turbines which proclaims itself happy to serve the community. Rather than the usual case in the UK where these things are built and then ignored by everyone except the people who complain that they make too much noise and spoil the view. Deal with it – it’s clean energy and they’re better than burning coal. Oh, and they don’t make much noise. I was stood 20m from one and it was quieter than a ceiling fan.

Welcome!

Welcome!

I passed briefly through Ravenshoe – Queensland’s Highest Town at 920m above sea level – and them just ploughed on until I finally reached Normanton, the “Home of the Gulflander” (one of the main train routes in Oz). It was closed. The town, that is. All of it. I was hoping to find a bar where I could share a drink with the locals before sleeping, but it wasn’t going to happen.

Instead, I parked up on a verge, extended my roof and went to sleep. No point in paying for a caravan park even though there was at least one nearby.

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Townsville to Cairns

One big issue with Townsville – the public buses run fairly small routes and virtually none run at all on a Sunday. This means I had a hell of a walk out to the edge of town towards the highway and Cairns.

An hour took me to a McDonald’s a few kilometres out where I stopped for breakfast and internet access. Around half an hour later a very attractive young lady accompanied by her son (about 8 years old, I’d guess) stopped and drove me out of town to a petrol station. Certainly not the demographic you expect to be picking up hitchhikers and I’m very glad they did so!

Within twenty minutes, a minibus pulled up and two guys and a young girl from the Pacific Islands ushered me on board. They’d just been to a funeral in Townsville and were heading north of Cairns. They shared drinks with me as there was no aircon (other than the open windows) and they dropped me off on the Esplanade at around 3:15. If I’d caught the bus, I’d have been on the road for less than half an hour at that point.

I checked two hostels before I settled on the Esplanade Backpackers (I think one of the Nomad chain) as it was only $15 for the night, including free dinner at the Rhino Bar downtown.

McDonalds was required for free-wifi, and despite buying a meal I was harassed by the manager after some time to pack up and move out. The restaurant was near-empty, nobody was waiting for a seat and the internet policy online states that the time limit is only as long as your laptop battery lasts.

Had they been busy I’d have fully understood, but it just seemed like someone taking their own personal “20 minutes” rule at face value. This is for all customers, not just internet use. So even if the place is dead and you’re enjoying a massive meal and spending a fortune you’re only allowed a short time to eat it. I’ve seen this branch during the busy season and at that point, I’d agree – you need to shuffle people around. But right now, Cairns is dead. All they’ve succeeded in doing is annoying someone who’d not going to pay for food next time. I’ll just sit outside and leach.

Whinge over. I sat on the grass over the road and listened to two very talented musicians play some incredibly relaxing cover versions and ploughed through a couple more chapters of my book. It’s pushing 7pm now, from which time the free dinner is served, so I’m about to pack up and head over to The Rhino.

Hopefully, I’ll get this post online before I leave. Either way, I won’t be online until I get into Darwin – at least I doubt it. I’m hoping to take a route which is very unlikely to take me past a McD’s!

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