Kakadu

Being stranded in Litchfield left me one day short for my intended itinerary, so I had to shoot through Kakadu like a stray bullet. I couldn't see much, for I was in a hurry and most of the park was flooded anyway. But what I saw, I liked.

I loved the night, watching the lightning make a display of fireworks in the clouds over the horizon and the fireflies flashing on the ground, as if echoing the message of the twinkling stars in the sky.

I liked the swamps of the wetlands and the swarms of birds flying over the sunset. It all looked so much like a documentary on the BBC that I found I missed David Attenborough speaking in the background.

It was brief and limited, but well worth the 500km drive(even if just for the photos).

Croc country

Estuarine crocodiles, known in these lands as saltwater crocs or "salties", are one of the main highlights of the Top End. I couldn't miss seeing them in the wild, so I jumped on board one of the myriad of "jumping croc" cruises on the Adelaide river. This is what I saw:

Something about Darwin

I have so little to say about Darwin that I would just play the lazy card and post some pictures. It happens, however, that I couldn't get a single worthy pic either, so I'll have to tell a small adventure story.

I arrived in Darwin on the 1st of January of 2008. I was disgustingly ill and low on spirits. I had a nasty infection in my ear/throat that barely allowed me to speak and made any attempt at swallowing pure torture. I got it, I guess, while "sleeping under the stars" and "swimming in a billabong" in the Red Centre.

I made my way to my far away and, as it turns out, lousy hostel, then dropped my bags and went to the Hospital. Took a slow bus there (it's far away from the centre) and when I arrived I discovered that just seeing a doctor would cost me $140. I needed one though, for I knew I needed antibiotics and there's no other way of getting them. I also knew that my travel insurance would most probably pay for that, but just in case I preferred to pay as little as possible and skip the 4hr queue at the Hospital. So I walked the half hour back to Casuarina under the rain, and tried my luck at buying antibiotics over the counter with a negative outcome.
After a bit of musing in the rain, I abandoned the mission and as there were no more buses, with some trying I managed to hitch a ride back to the hostel, where I had a lousy night and survived on paracetamol and ibuprofen. The next day I found a doctor, paid $65 for a murky piece of paper and lots more for the pills.

But oh, was I happy.

Oh, and about Darwin... it's nice. Not big, not flashy, not beautiful, not impressive, not anything much. Just nice.

The Wet

In Darwin and the Top End of OZ, only two seasons are generally recognized: "the Dry", with plenty of sun and no rain, and "the Wet", when the area is flooded by the tropical monsoons.

Against all common sense and general practice, I've come during the Wet.

Now, whatever you might be thinking, I can assure you that during the monsoons, it does not rain. No, seriously.

Rain is a meticulously organized, finely crafted, well tuned, orderly process, involving proportions, quantities and statistics. The process that gently gets those tiny droplets that form a cloud to the ground safely and efficiently is nothing like what you experience in the Wet. This is not rain. It's just water falling from the sky. Spontaneous vertical waterfalls. Bulk water, in industrial quantities. Bucketfuls of soggy moisty goo just splashing chaotically about.

The water's all right. But at some point, the gale kicks in and starts blowing punches erratically, sweeping it all with jets of water, and giving the impression that the God of Rain in this parts uses a particularly big hose and, like a lazy gardener, just shakes it about. He uses a particularly big hairdryer, too.

The good thing is that during the Wet, you never get wet. Never ever. You are, of course, constantly humid and moisty and sticky and smelly, and, well, now and then you're terminally soaked to your bones. But you're never wet. Being wet requires a difference in temperature, and the water falling from the sky here is just as hot as your skin. And then again, it's sill 30º outside, so being soggy lasts next to nothing. You sort of dry instantly, but never completely, so it's back to the natural state of constant uncomfortable humidity.

It doesn't sound like the best climate on Earth, but I can't say I dislike it especially. Temperatures very rarely drop below 20º, be it sunny or rainy, day or night, which is a big plus for me. It does make you swear under your breath when you hang your clothes to dry and after a while they're soggier than before. But apart from that, and a general feeling of unpleasantness at times, it's all right. I could handle this for a while, no worries.