We had a great time. Now we’ve got to pay the price. We’re down one stop before Katherine. Gotta do the whole trip in one go—6 hours of driving. Let’s go! We’re a bit low on fuel with only 300 kilometers of range. The only station at the lake doesn’t open until 9 a.m., and the next (and only) one is 227 kilometers away… Should we risk it? Except for a magnificent frilled-neck lizard darting across the road on its big hind legs and an emu quickly disappearing into the bush, we didn’t see much. Oh—there was also a donkey, lost and panicked in the middle of the road… A quiet road with some beautiful scenery,
some worrying bushfires
and a few opportunities to stop for a "warrior’s rest" (never go beyond the first second of the thought that starts drifting off the road…)
We cross an invisible border as we enter the Northern Territory, which comes with consequences—we immediately lose an hour and a half by changing time zones. The speed limit goes from 110 to 130.
We arrive at the self check-in in Katherine. As usual, we’re a little taken aback at first. The noise, for starters. There’s a group rehearsing, it seems. We go check it out. We pass through the doors separating "The Stuart" from the adjoining bar and stumble upon what feels like collective hysteria. Turns out, it’s a concert. Aboriginal musicians completely fired up by some incredible music! There are just three of them, but they’re delivering a wall of sound that reminds us of South Africa’s finest neo-techno with a trance-like vibe. The crowd is wild! They’re singing in unison, screaming with joy. We get gently kicked out by security because we’re carrying our groceries, and they’re not having it. We promise ourselves we’ll come back once we’ve put them away in our little fridge.
Then we land. We end up finding plenty of nice things. It’s very possible we’ll like this place!
We head back to enjoy our post-battle Happy Hour.
The concert’s over, but the crowd’s still riding the high. It’s indescribable. People are shouting across the room, screaming just for the fun of it—men and women alike. There’s pool, some beat-up arcade games being shaken like coconut trees. Dom and I feel like anthropologists. We’re pretty blown away. It’s epic! And the beer’s half the price it is elsewhere! We’ll definitely be back—that’s for sure!We give up on finding a restaurant. Not sure they even exist, at least not this season. So, we’ve got a microwave—we eat at home on our little terrace, with a musical accompaniment from a massive orchestra of birds.
It sounds amazing!
then natural pools... the famous hot springs!
14 kilometers from the end, a "Road Closed" barrier stops us. Seriously, couldn’t they have put a sign at the start of the track?
We fall back on Plan B, carefully noted in my Excel spreadsheet: Barramundi Gorge (Maguk) Waterfall. There’s 10 kilometers of track, with a sign claiming it requires a 4x4, but we push on. We try. We’re not scared of anything! Good move! The place is magical.
We follow a path marked by little orange diamonds—a barely 2.5 km walk with a waterfall still flowing proudly, even though we’d been told everything was dry in the park.
The visitor’s centers…
Then came our obligations: Happy Hour, dinner, digestif, TV show… An evening like any other, but in a setting even more tropical than the ones before.
We were offered Mourvèdre, a grape variety not very common in this part of Australia, where Shiraz dominates. Perfect!
The sketchy reputation of the place means anyone brave enough to cross has to do it in super-high vehicles—huge 4x4s, cars you’re sure won’t leave you stranded in the middle of the ford. Sure enough, we spot our first crocs. Absolute units! A petite tattooed girl joins us on the walkway, “Are there crocs here around?” We nod enthusiastically. I snap away whenever one of the reptiles pokes its snout out, but after a few photos, my Sony conks out. It flashes a bright red write error. Maybe an issue with the SD card? I open the slot where it’s inserted. Press down to make sure it’s seated properly in the slot. There’s a spring to help eject it for easy replacement. And sure enough, my clumsy move ejects it. *Frrrtttt!* Gone—the SD card! Vanished! Dom and I immediately drop to our hands and knees, help-help-help-ing, trying to spot the precious card. The girl stops scanning the crocodile-infested waters to watch, horrified, as these two clowns crawl around on the walkway, making weird mouth noises. It’s over. This time, the Sony is done for. We’ll have to find a shop that sells that kind of component. And, by the way, shops in the area... well, impossible before Darwin. Oh well. The rest of the report will have to be done with Dominique’s Huawei...
Well, we’ve seen our fill of crocs. Back at Cooinda. I notice it’s got quite a few shops for tourists. Tourists and their cameras, if you catch my drift… Maybe they’ve got…? I try. I ask a young girl. She’s got micro SD cards for phones but not the classic SD format. Oh well. As we’re about to leave, she recommends trying back at our place, at the supermarket. Or the gas station. We try one, then the other. At the station, the young clerk assures me we’ll definitely find some at… the post office?! We don’t give up. We try. At the post office! She had some! Lucky break! The zoom photos are back in the game, and that’s a good thing! Where should we break it in? We decide to take a spin around nearby Lake Kakadu.
A descent toward beaches that are as exotic as you could wish for.
The exuberance of the root system, the timid guinea fowl we came across...
Then the arthropods, like this one wrapping up its prey...
We leave the car spotless but (very) dirty in the Avis parking lot, face the "do it yourself" check-in with a particularly tough challenge when it came to checking in our luggage, then the delays that pile up again and again—an old story... We land in Cairns two and a half hours later than scheduled. On top of that, we’ve crossed half a time zone, so our clocks are half an hour ahead of Darwin! Google claims it can find us 24/7 snacks. We walk and walk until we’re exhausted. No luck. At midnight, Cairns is a dead town. We ask around. All we get are disappointed shrugs... It’s too late, time for bed! We ended up eating at McDonald’s—the *only* thing open in the whole city!
