Date:
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19-20/04/2017
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Location:
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Katherine (Northern Territory)
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Distance Travelled:
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280 km
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Temperature:
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Min:
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35.0
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Max:
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21.0
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nUMBER OF MOSQUITOS
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100,000,000!!!!
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After the hedonistic night before, the boys and I managed
to sleep in until about 8:00 am. A longer sleep-in than that wasn’t for lack of
trying, but it seems the same crowd that frequented the Devils Marbles also headed
for a stopover at the Daly Waters pub. As soon as the first eagle had risen on
the morning air, the majority of happy campers were up and revving their
engines – ready to head off to wherever their hearts were pulling them. As with
Daly Waters, we spent the time required to have a hearty breakfast, before
lumbering forth upon the road. No need to rush these things, right? The road
will still be there whether you’re first to leave, or last.
Besides, the boys still had a few travelling companions
to play with (some even had Nerf Guns that were able to shoot their spongy
projectiles high into the air – what young lad in his right mind could leave
without trying those out!!). Having learned a trick or two from our stop over
at the Devil’s Marbles, our ‘unpacking’ at Daly Waters had been minimalistic to
say the least. So, striping off the beds and cranking up the leg struts, we
were practically done and ready to rock ‘n roll!
Sure, there were a few other ‘pre-flight checks’ that need to be taken care of (no one wanted to
have a repeat of the dangling trailer-plug incident) – but other than forcing the
boys to wash their face and brush their teeth, we were off.
Sure it’s big – but wait a few days and you’ll see some
REAL termite mounds this size!
Piping hot, these lamb pies were laced with red wine,
herbs and onions – all encased in soft and fluffy buttery pastry. Straight from
the oven, they were like eating napalm – but that didn’t stop us gingery taking
nibbles and blowing vigorously into the bite sized hole in a forlorn effort to
cool them down enough to eat. Despite the odd blister, they were indeed truly
delicious! From our brief walk around Mataranka, poking our heads into each of
the pie selling vendors along the way, they certainly (by far) deserved of the
moniker of “best pie in Mataranka”
(if you’re ever in the area, drop in and grab one – you won’t be disappointed!)
Not much to see, just good pies and a turn off on the
highway to a set of amazing hot water springs
Noshing down on these hot buttery pies, we suddenly
wanted to stay here for the rest of our trip. But, unfortunately, Mataranka
wasn’t our designated destination for the night. But don’t worry, running a
gravy soaked finger down the pages of our carefully planned itinerary, we noted
that we were to come back to Mataranka tomorrow; to visit he hot water springs.
Perhaps, even perchance, to sample such delectable treats again in the light of
a new day. We could only dream of what filling would be on offer then!
But, for now, onwards we travelled. Further north,
bellies full and quite satisfied. On we went, past vast grassy fields, squat scrubby trees and termite mounds as far as the eye could see. An hour later we arrived at Katherine. Not
quite a city, but bigger than most towns in the Norther Territory. Turning
right at Woolworths, we meandered slowly down a long stretch of road towards
our final destination: Shady Lanes Caravan Park. Pulling up at the reception,
we were greeted by a very chipper woman, who was a wealth of knowledge regarding
Katherine and the surrounding areas. Unfortunately, after a lamb pie filled
lunch and an exceptionally long drive, much of the information was lost on me,
as I just wanted to know where to park up and whether the water was safe to
drink.
And
this was just and average sized one!
…oh my, was it ever humid. The thermometer on the car
said it was 33, but my body had no doubt it was in the mid 40’s. Having quickly
set up the camp trailer, I rushed inside to see what thermometer I stashed in
the cupboard said – nope, still 33. Bugger!
Having lived in New Zealand for much of my life, I am
well accustomed to the trickery that humidity plays on one’s sense of how hot
it is. And so, breathing in a deep, watery breath, I suddenly realised why the
world felt like it was treating me like an oversized dumpling and steaming me
to death. “Man, this place is a bit muggy”, I announced to the boys with
torrents of sweat already cascading off my forehead. Even in the shade of Shady
Lanes, the air was oppressive. Wait until Nat comes back, I thought to myself,
she’ll love this!!
The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. You know,
basic necessities of life. Get shelter, gather food, cook, sleep.
But, nothing so simple ever happens in small town in the
Northern Territory. Having set up out camper, the first thing on the itinerary
was to gather supplies. “Come on boys,” I said “Let’ head down to the shops and
get something for tea.”
Arriving at the local supermarket, it felt like we were
walking into a paradoxically anachronistic, yet modern, shopping mall. A mix of
very up-to-date shops (Coles, a Telstra outlet, beauty salon, and so forth)
were surrounded by throngs of people wandering around – but never mixing. The
main thoroughfare was flowing with whitey-white locals. But, clumped around the
edges, were islands of local aboriginal people. Even the entryway to the mall
gave me flashbacks to my time in South Africa.
Armed guards stood on sentry about this place. As my boys
and I timidly scuttled by one such patrol vocally turning an aboriginal woman out
of the complex, for taking something without paying. Listening in, it seemed that
she and the security officers had danced this dance before – and no doubt would
do so again in the future – as they all seemed to go about the process strictly
by the numbers. “Ok, Miss” they said, “you know the deal. You’re banned for a
week”. As we watched, ‘Miss’ put up a nominal protest and then, clutching her dinner,
without much further ado, she left. Throughout all of this, the boys stayed
closer to me in the supermarket then they ever have before in their lives. Eyes
open wide, and noting the differences from our safe little haven 1500km away.
Even the supermarket had a different feel to it. There
was a tension in the air that we hadn’t felt before. In contrast to Coober Pedy
(which, from the tales I’d been told I had assumed would have been akin to a
tinder box waiting to go off), that was now nothing to write home about (except
for the odd blog post about having ID scanned when buying booze).
In the 45 minutes we were in the supermarket, we saw at
least three people escorted out. Needless to say, as soon as we got in the car,
the boys had a whole lot of socio-political
questions they wanted to raise – even if they weren’t sure exactly what
words to use, or what questions they wanted to ask. The focal point of their
queries though was why the police women outside Liquorland had stopped everyone with dark skin and asked for ID… ”Why
didn’t she ask to see your licence dad?”, the kids asked as we stood in line to
buys some beers (while several people, who didn’t look like me were turned away).
After a bit of digging and causally chatting to locals
about this, it turns out that the answer wasn’t as draconian or separatist as
it may have first appeared. In actuality, the elders from several aboriginal
communities in the surrounding areas have requested that the police to step in
and help prevent alcohol related violence; through banning members of their
communities from purchasing alcohol. From the locals I spoke to, it seems when
the ban was first instituted it was a nightmare for shop owners to enforce this
on their own – as such, the responsibility for safeguarding this embargo ban
fell back upon the police.
As such, every liquor outlet in the vicinity of these
‘dry communities’ – at least for the foreseeable future (until, that is, they
come up with a better solution) – needed to be manned (or womaned) by an armed
officer from the moment they opened until the time they shut. Make of that what
you will… but in navigating that conversation with a 7 and 10-year-old, I was
glad of my training and 10 years-experience as a psychologist!
Heading home to our trailer, we had another merry night
under the stars. As a bit of a treat Ben and I had steak sandwiches (in the
style of Bahn mi), and there were hot dogs for Daniel. A merry night was had by
all… that is, until the bugs came out!
Now when I say bugs, I imagine you are thinking of a few
mozzies and moth or two. But, Oh Lordy, Lordy, how wrong would you be! Imagine
this: Sun up = happy days; Sun down = BOOM: BUGS EVERYWEHERE!!
Picking the gnats out of out perfectly cooked steak, we
quickly retreated indoors. However, inside our little trailer, we found there was
little reprieve from the blighters. Most of these critters were small enough to
wriggle their way through out mosquito nests and ended up swarming around the
lights in the ceiling. So, out of desperation, we nuked the van with fly spray
and switched over to our blue ‘non-fly attracting’ lights…
…In brief, these ‘non-fly attracting lights’ don’t work
in Katherine – blue, white, green – there is not colour that doesn’t attract a
bazillion critters. So, lights off, windows closed, this was how we spent the
remainder of the night. As we lay there in the dark, sweltering in the sticky
humidity, I couldn’t help but miss Nat and wish she was here to share the fun
too!
A few hours later – sometime around midnight – I ventured
outside and found that both the humidity and flies had largely subsided. These
features of the tropics, had however been replaced by teams of Cane Toads and
other of their amphibious brethren. These sticky little critters have evolved
perfectly for such an environment; with their fleshy skin and penchant for
moist environments. As that the boys were still awake (I mean, who could sleep
in this heat!) we went for a wander around the grounds to see what croaking
critters we could spot. In total, we saw 12 Cane Toads (boo) 7 tree frogs, a
handful of geckos and various other denizens of the night. Returning to our
trailer, we opened all the window covers, and a gentle breeze finally began
flowing through the camp-trailer. In the end, we all got some sleep, amidst the
chorus of croaking chirps…
…and a whole lot of mozzie bites.
Hurry back Nat, come and join the fun! It’s magic, really
it is!
Bye ‘d bye,
Gregg
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