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April 30th - May 8th. Darwin, Northern Territory
- Sun, sun, sun, sun, tourism, sun (sun.)
Darwin, the capital of the Northen territory, had two season, Dry and Wet. The later is meant to be pretty unpleasent, with most places closing down and whole towns cut off for months on end...it's simply not the recommended time to be in this area. The dry season starts in May...and thankfully it turned up on schedule this year as 'dry' is most certainly one way to describe the weather I was confronted with upon my arrival here. Hot...no, Perth was hot...this was...something else all together...this was like Brisbane three months back...but even more forceful...this was take five steps and want to collapse...this was get used to that lake of sweat on your head because it ain't going nowhere fast...in short...this was insanity. I must confess to not adapting all too well in the beginning, coupled with the sadly typical big city grab-as-much-cash-as-we-can and pack-'em-in-like-chickens white-washed walls hostel (youth shack as you ask...now there's a name that inspires confidence) the first couple of days here were not the best, although there were some decent moments that elevated it here and there. However before too long I got a little more into the rhythm of the place and although its nowhere near up there with the best weeks I've had in this country (Perth last week provided too great a first phase ending perhaps, or I was focusing a little too much on what the following week held instore) it ended up being a lot better than I had initially feared and weighing it all up I had a decent enough time in the end.
The first day or so I didn't do much more than wander around in a heat-crazed daze. Although its the largest place in the state, calling it a city is a bit of a stretch, it had more of a medium-sized town vibe and aesthetic, the skyline untroubled by tall buildings. The place was totally destroyed on Christmas day 1980 by Cyclone Tracy (and before that by bombardment in WW2...not the most lucky of places) so there's not much architecture dating before then that isn't in ruins or that hadn't ungone drastic restoration work. They've done a good job of rebuilding the place and you wouldn't really notice unless you'd been told, although once you have been the absence of old buildings becomes more strikeing. One place that made it through more or less Ok was the botanical gardens, which provided a scenic place for me to collapse when the heat became too much.
There is a dark side to this town, this country really, that its difficult to pass through this place with noting. Aboriginals. Although there were some on the west coasr they tend to be higher in numbers in the north, and I was in the south, but here their presence is unescapable. They lay asleep in the parks, being occasionally shifted ten metres by the police, as well as in the streets and gutters, anywhere and everywhere really. Many are drunk and openly beg for alcohol, there's no pretense at least. The begging tends to involve hitting sticks on the ground or simply staring you right in the eyes without a word. Some are more aggressive, more than once I was followed by sombody increasingly demanding 'help me out brother' to the point of aggitated screaming. There's an element of acting at play but its un-nerving none the less. It's hard to know what to do, there's no doubt this is their land (whether they ahve the concept of land ownership or not) and that it had been taken from them but despite occasional token 'feel a bit sorry of 'em' gestures most Australians I met have a shockingly condescending insulting attitude towards them...another situation where its hard to know what to say really.
Bit of a serious paragraph there but it does shade everyday life here so I felt it had to be said.
A week was a bit too long for the limited things to do here, though obviously they'd be less limited if I was able to spend more, but I rationed my tourist jaunts to a single thing per day instead of attacking them in my usual serial manner, I was usually done by mid-afternoon at the latest and spent a lot of time photosynthesisng with a book or headphones. I would have been a good time to play some uke...but alas my uke remains behind in WA as I didn't deem it worthwhile messing about getting it one four places between them and the east coast. It only set me back thirty bucks so was no great loss, it was brought as a kind of reward for finding work and so when work is found once more on the east coast the foretold coming of uke the third may come to pass...
Anyhow...tourism! On Sunday I went to the WW2 oil tunnels. As I've already alluded to this place took a fair whack in the wards and, drawing inspiration from similiar designs in Europe, these tunnels were mean to protect oil supplies from aerial attack. The war finished before they were completed (not that I imagine there was much complaing about it at the time) but they got far enough along with it to provide a worthwhile use of five dollars today. As I ambled down a narrow tunnel with a small pipe on the floor I briefly wondered if this was it, only to turn left into a MASSIVE tunnel stretching beyond the limit of my eyes. I'd estimate it was 5 metres high, 171 metres long with a width of 4.5 metres and a capacity of, oh, lets say 38475. Would you believe it, moments later I saw an info sign and I was exactly right! The floor was moist despite the boiling temperatures outside, flip-flops were a bad choice, and a dozen sets of 8 black and white photographs lined the walls. They mostly detailed servicemen and aircraft from the war and the surreal, eirry surroundings gave them an additional gravitas. The contrast between inside and out was a marked one...especially when I left and the wave of hear hit me once more!
That eveing I strolled down to the Mindil beach markets, I had no cash to spend so don't really know why I went...I guess to fill a little bit of time. There were tonnes of cars parked close-by ad the place was frantic with people, there was a lot of stalls running along the shorefront, about half of them selling food with the other half the sort of colourful cloths and faux spiritiual stuff (palm readings, tarrot etc...) you find at the more hippyish festival markets. Most places seemed to be selling the same stuff but due to my ban on buying anything I didn't look too closely. I can see why it would be good to roll up with some friends, take a slow look around, buy some food and then park yourself on the beach a couple of hours till sunset...however being by myself I didn't stick around too long!
On Monday I did my 'big' touristy thing and went to this place called Crocosaurus Cove. Both the name and the fact I could see it from my dorm window, which overlooked the busiest street in the centre of Darwin, didn't set my expectations too high, I more or less expected a cramped zoo like place. And thats more or less what I got. There's a whole series of arguments and counterarguments about these sort of places but for the sake of length, and your boredom, I'll leave them in my head and stick to physical descriptions. There were fish, they were fed. Despite the hand of children tugging at my shirt and falling over my feet it was worth watching. I had a look around the reptile house, which was decent because it focused exclusively on the NT and northern WA and so had a lot of species, mainly snakes and ghekkos, that I'd not seen before. Then it was time to feed the crocodiles, most of them weren't due food, as they don't eat that much in the wild and so if they're fed everyday they get over-full, but one was and they made a show of it - they put a chicken on a length of string and batted the fella over the head and waved it infront of his face, slowly he started to pay attention and to follow it, they walked him out of the water and then teased him into jumping higher and higher untill he finally closed his mouth around the shicken with a loud crash. Although the whole song and dance of it was a bit uncomfortable I can't deny it was an impressive sight. They also had juvenille crocs jumping metres above the water for food children dangled on fishing rods, baby crocs hiding under rocks and, to complete the lifecycle, eggs too. Crocs are something very closely assoicated with this place and the territory as a whole and despite the shortcomings I can tick of another 'must see' thing.
Later that Monday I was sat in a park, as I'm prone to, when a bunch of people marched by, all large banners and muffled shouts. In spite of some apprehensive thoughts of Liz's stories about white power marchs in NZ I strolled over to investigate. It was a trade union May day march. I didn't even realise it was May day...I guess not having work to have a day off from dulls the meaning. Not just was it a May day march but it was a May day concert in the park so, deciding to get in the spirit of things, i brought a small cone of chips and a tiny can of beer and planted myself down on the grass...where I would remain till long after the sun had set. As well as music there were a couple of speechs from trade union people plus the premier of the NT...I didn't really know what was going on but it was interesting in a way.
There were 4 bands playing long hour plus sets each. The first was a 3-piece country band, all cowboy boots and workerd right songs, and very good, the second was a similiar style of music but plowed an area the opposite to good. The third band played as the day gave way to night and succeded in getting more than just the excited tiny children dancing to their energetic ska, reggae tunes that threw in a strong interesting mix of aboriginal and world music flavours. Closing up was an Irish rock, almost punk, bunch with a singer who looked a dead ringer for Bob Geldof. It's a horrible thing to say but there you go. They were entertaining...if rather terrible. He couldn't sing as such, but threw his very heart and soul into finger-down-blackboard us vs. them slogan-tastic songs...a feeling that continued between songs when he'd rant away punctuated by cried of 'tell it like it is brother' and 'speak the truth' from the more inebriated members of the crowd. I also observed a valuable lesson, drunk people should not attempt jiggy Irish dancing, as they inevitably fall over.
...Was a bit of an odd afternoon/evening really. Fun though, especially as my plans beforehand ammounted to zilch.
On Tuesday I headed out on a reasonably long (well not that long really, but considering the sun...) walk beyond the botanical gardens to Fannie Bay Gaol. These places seem to this country what castles are to England, I've no special interest but it was there, plus it was free too. It's a bit different from the other's I've been to as it only closed in 1980, it goes back a long way and has an 'unusual cross-section of different era buildings.' Signs are helpful...although there wasn't many of them as its not really finished as such, although there's an argument to be made for its untouched state. The money the nearby NT museum and art gallery makes is going towards the Gaol restoration...and seeing how its another free place you start to understand whats taking so long! It was a big place and I found myself most drawn towards the Cyclone Tracy exhibit as I know next to nothing about it and the Aboriginal art section as I'd not seen that sort of thing, certainly on such a scale, before.
This is all getting a bit cultured isn't it?! Quick - an idiotic aside to bring it down to earth. Tuesday night is cheap pizza night - I get to eat! In celebration I brought an energy drink...and promptly poured it all over said pizza. There was a hopeful moment where I thought it could have improved it and I could be onto a million dollar idea...but alas no, soggy pizza is rarely good. I manned up and ate it anyway. I felt a bit hyper-active safterwards...but there was a hollow aftertaste...
Wednesdays tourism nugget had me passing through the uber posh wharf development and down to the Marina. This focused on the reef no five metres off the shore. They had some truely amazing examples of coral life, something I know next to nothing about, and it was great to see such things up close and in such a naturalistic setting. The guide was an interesting character, he clearly knew and really cared about his area and had not problem ritteling off fact after fact...but he also wasn't afraid of letting us know what he didn't like, which included tourists, people who moan about prices, the entire east coast (I've heard nothing but bad press about that place...2 weeks time should be fun!), the government, the pearling exhibit next door, people who own boats...pretty much any and everything not reef related! I found myself being vaguely in his corner on most things he said...though it was a little hard to know how to respond to the venom in his voice at times!
And that's more or less the important bits. Today (Thursday) I've been getting ready for my eminent departure from this land...I've been here over three months now and so obviously I'm sick to death of Australia and its high time for a holiday. The immediate future looks like this: at 10AM tomorrow (Friday) I will leave the hostel, wait around untill 4.30PM when the shuttle bus will take me to the airport, wait around there untill 1.40AM Saturday when I'll fly to Brisbane, where I first arrived in this country, landing at 5.45AM. Then there'll be even more waiting around untill 9.40AM at which point I'll fly to Nadi, Fiji, landing at 3.10PM. Even with two and a half hours time difference in there that's still one hell of a lot of waiting about...but something tells me it will be worth it somehow...
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