Katherine to Kununurra

There really isn’t a lot of information about this 500 kilometre stretch of road. I mean, there are maps with names on it and bits of descriptions of localities, but what it’s really like is not clear, at least it wasn’t to us. For instance Victoria River Crossing and Timber Creek (about midway between the “K”s) are only 90 kilometres apart – which one to stay at? We had time on our side so we stayed at both and I can report that Victoria River Crossing was our personal winner – the pub, its meals, the campground – all good and full of character– plus the scenic walk up the nearby escarpment was magnificent. Timber Creek was just that little bit seedier by comparison and while the nearby sights were interesting (the Gregory Boab Tree that Gregory inscribed in 1856, the lookout above the town, Policeman’s Point on the Victoria River), it wouldn’t be enough to hold you there for a night.

                   The Escarpment at Victoria River Crossing (Click on it for a better view)

                         "And when he was only halfway up, he was neither up nor down!"

Gregory's Tree - a Boab of some age and stature (Augustus Gregory was an early explorer)

Another 160 kilometres west of Timber Creek is the turnoff to the Zebra Rock Mine Resort. It’s pretty basic and the camp sites are unpowered, but the people are really friendly and the atmosphere is very bushy and relaxed. We did a bird watching tour by boat on nearby Lake Argyle on Mothers’ Day and birds there were - in profusion! We or at least Maurs in particular, were hopeful of laying eyes on a colony of Yellow Chats, a rare species apparently. To see them we had to leave our vessel and wade 100 metres through mud and weed (Maurs being height challenged found this more of an issue than myself and Max the guide) and then tramp over this flat island to scare out the chats. In fact we scared out no chats at all on that day and returned to the boat tired and conspicuously chatless. Nevertheless on the way back home we stopped out in the deep clear water of the lake for a cup of tea. Max the guide said “I can’t resist this” and threw himself overboard to cool off. It crossed my mind to start up the engine and head back the 5 kilometres to the boat ramp but instead Maurs and I followed him in and enjoyed the wonderful waters of the lake. It really is good swimming.

                  Lake Argyle is about 9 Sydney Harbours of fresh water (and great to swim in)

Maurs had a really birdy kind of day or two as she found a small waterhole near the camp where quite a variety of feathered friends showed up for a drink and a bath, including some Gouldian Finches (also an infrequently seen species these days). She was very happy.

                                     Gouldians! Worth a couple of hours bird watching to see.

Zebra Rock itself is a curious piece of geology and this is the last mine of the stuff in the world. It can be shaped and sculpted by those who know how, so the gallery there is full of arty little (and not so little) items for sale. Our host Ruth (a lovely lady with a brand new 5-month old daughter) also baked delicious scones with jam and cream, and offered fish and chips utilising the local Silver Cobbler from the lake for the fish. It’s a great eating fish. We did have an enjoyable two nights at this place.

We drove the 60 kilometres to Kununurra, arriving 30 minutes before we left, thanks to the 90 minute time difference between WA and the NT. What’s worse is that we are back on home soil now but our body clocks are still in the Territory and consequently we are waking up at 4.30am. We have accomplished our mission and rendezvoused with our friends Vic and Cheryl (who made a mighty dash from Perth in a very short time to keep their end of the bargain) and are now busy provisioning for our next leg – the Gibb River Road. Believe me things have got a whole lot better since they showed up.

                                          Aahhhhh! Easy on that foot massage Cheryl!! Luxury....

The Gibb River Road is a sparse stretch of about 800 kilometres but very beautiful apparently. There are no shops, no communications (for us at least), no bitumen. You won’t hear from us until we emerge from the other side. For some that may be a blessed relief! Be mindful in about 4 weeks for a fresh update, tentatively entitled “Tales from the Gibb River Road”.

Greetings from Litchfield Park

We were on our way to the famous Litchfield National Park, but we wanted to check out a place on the way called Mary River as they were advertising houseboats for hire, which sounded interesting. It was not all that well signed around that area and we took a chance and booked into The Bark Hut Inn, on the grounds that it was in the Mary River precinct, it loomed up on us as we charged up the Kakadu Highway, and it was an alleged historic and interesting site. The parking area out the back of the inn looked okay and we got to meet a couple named Phil and Liz (regrettably, not THE Phil and Liz of Buckingham Palace fame), but Phil and Liz from New South Wales. Now Phil is a keen fisherman who was going to stay up at a palace, sorry, place called Shady Camp but was warned not to stay there because of the swarms of mosquitoes in residence. It was kind of hard to hear him through the high pitched buzz of swarms of mosquitoes at the Bark Hut Inn! Believe me said Phil, they’re worse up at Shady Camp.

After swatting our fair share we started exploring the area. We came across a nice little resort only 2 kilometres further up the highway and the Corroboree Billabong, another 60 km away, where the houseboats were hiding as well as a river cruiser, on which we took the opportunity to see the local wildlife. Now there are some seriously BIG crocodiles in that waterway. Our guide took us up close and personal with one of them. I gather he mustn’t have been very hungry as we all got out alive. Birds and crocs, crocs and birds – oh, and swarms of mosquitoes!

                            Now that was one big crocodile - estimated at around 4.5 metres long

                                 "Hey, love your new 'doo'!"              "I love your new 'doo' too!"

We managed to stay the night out the back of the Bark Hut Inn but our arms were heavy in the morning from swatting mosquitoes and we were weak from loss of blood so we moved on to a little town called Batchelor – at the gateway to the Litchfield Park. The caravan park owner where we stayed had two dogs, a Staffy named Red and a Beagle named Roughnut. Red’s mission in life is to lick every one’s legs to death; Roughnut just wanted to scrounge food – but they hung out with us a lot while we were there. Litchfield itself was looking a bit stressed after a poor wet season but the waterfalls and creeks were impressive as were the magnetic termite mounds – a must-see for every visitor apparently, as every vehicle dutifully turned off at the sign to pay homage to those termites who unfailingly know north/south from east/west. There are still a lot of places in the park that are closed due to the uncertainty of crocodile residence (see image above for reasons not to swim there) but a few areas were fine. At Florence Falls the photo of the falls was again ruined by European tourists (sorry you can’t get the falls in all their glory there fellas) but we managed to climb above all that frolicking and got a shot from the top.

                                                That's one big Cathedral termite mound! 

                                        A classic shot spoiled! I'll get a good one some day....

                                                             Florence Falls from above

Maurs took a little dip in a rock pool at the falls above Greenant Creek – sharing the surrounds with a water monitor (and in all fairness, he was there first). The weather remains hot and humid with the chance of mosquitoes and sandflies. Cooling off is mandatory.

                                                 Maursie cooling off at Greenant Creek

                                                      A nearby resident also cooling off.

We were particularly knocked out by the Territory Wildlife Park at Berry Springs. We literally stumbled upon it and were very impressed with the park design and the wide range of animal exhibits there – all highlighting local animals – no imports. The aquarium was just incredible and the display of birds, particularly raptors was stunning. We reckon international visitors should not miss that park - it is brilliant.

A beautiful Tawny Frogmouth at the Territory Wildlife Park - Maurs hand-fed her a live cricket(wasn't that nice?)

At the moment we are cooling our heels in Katherine once again, having completed a lap of the Northern Territory. There’s a stretch of about 500 kilometres left to do in order to get to Kununurra and that will be the first time the camper has been on WA soil since March 2012! That Returd Highway – she one long road!

Kakadu (and the heat goes on...)

Onwards to Kakadu,the World Heritage tropical wetlands area where we were immediately struck by the indigenous names populating the area – an awful lot of “uks” up that way such as “Bukbukluk”, which we found kind of neat. Some place names though just defied pronunciation. Wrap your tonsils around “Malabanjbanjdju” or “Kunbarlianjnja” if you can.

We stayed at the Cooinda Resort Park as it was the only one we could pronounce. This is right next door to the Yellow River Billabong where there are copious boat tours of the wetlands – not to be missed. We did two tours in fact, one at sunset and one at sunrise – both very good. Some very big crocodiles lurking in that water, plus a profusion of birds (280 species we are told by the guide) – we might have seen twenty. Perhaps the others were still flying in for peak tourist season.

Nourlangie Rock has a pleasant walk to a series of sites containing indigenous rock art from 1000 to 5000 years old. Some excellent looking art – well it’s not art – it’s a series of instruction manuals about how to survive, handed down to those who know how to use it (but is it art?). A tour bus full of septuagenarians was there when we were and these poor oldies were pulling themselves up over the rocks in 35C heat to view the artwork thinking “We’re a long way from Lake Macquarie Mavis!)

From Nourlangie we went to the small town of Jabiru for lunch and managed to get ourselves lost thanks to town planning based on Canberra circles and some locals’ idea of humour through rotating signposts 180 degrees. Oh ha ha. We drove another 30 kilometres or so to Ubirr where there is a hill that looks over Kakadu and out to Arnhem Land, plus more impressive indigenous rock art. We had the good fortune to meet a ranger up there doing his patrol and spent a good thirty minutes listening to his stories about the area. Really interesting. We had noticed that a lot of trees had brown bands painted on them and he told us that a highly respected member of the local community had passed away (no names though, that’s the culture) and the trees had been banded as a sign of respect and to keep his strong spirit from affecting visitors (like us). The area would then be cleansed at a later date, when his spirit would be taken from the area to a “better place”.

               View from the top of Ubirr (you might need to click on this to see its full glory)

But after hot days, the resort’s pool beckoned and we responded to it. The first fires burning off the drying grasses had just been lit and as we drove through the smoke we could feel our poor bodies drying out too. Cold drinks from the bistro and bar assisted us no end. It’s hot up here. I don’t think we’ll be seeing any winter until at least June the way we’re going.