Tag Archives: crocodiles

Hey Wangi – Visiting Litchfield National Park

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sandy feetLitchfield National Park was our final destination on our great Northern Territory camping shenanigans and glad-fully so (previous posts about this adventure can be read here and here). It had been a week of camping NT style. It was fair to say the small confines of a tent, the rusty coloured dirt getting into even the smallest of cracks and sharing each others company for 24/7 was starting to grate on us all. Don’t get me wrong we were loving it, but there was a growing amount of don’t fecking bother me kinda moments starting to appear so at large we spent the time in our own daydreams, not saying that much, just laying around really in a leave me alone kinda way.

Litchfield is popular. It’s only a 60 minute drive out of Darwin city making it very accessible for day trips which seem particularly hip over the weekend. This is why you need to get in and claim your camping spot pronto. First thing if possible. We breezed in around lunch time at Wangi Falls (probably the most popular site in the park) thinking we were keen bee’s and should have pick of the entire space. Nup. It was full. Nothing left except an awkward area were we couldn’t park our car with us and we couldn’t really get our tent pegs into because the ground was so stubbornly rock hard but we made those tent pegs get into that ground (somehow) and we set up camp no.4 on our little adventure.

tent peg problem

Wangi falls campsite

We were 300 metres to the falls. The sound of the water gushing over that waterfall was our camp soundtrack. Quite something. The falls were even better to look at.

Wangi falls

See. Not just a dam hey? Plenty of swimming space here for the bus loads of keen water splashing visitors.

This was not Mr Vick’s first visit here. He had been (without me – how disgusting) about 4 years ago. He kindly informed me that the last time he visited it was closed to the public due to the waters being infested with Crocodiles. Nice to know when you’re dangling your feet in the water finding the courage to lunge in. So the entire 2 days I was there I loved the water, but looked very hard under the surface constantly for sharp teeth. I was a scaredy cat, it is fair to say.

People dig the waterfall. They bask underneath it and on the rocks around it. I didn’t go out that far, the chicken, croc searching weakling I am. For some reason in my head there were more Crocodiles living over there. No stopping Mr Vick of course. He was all bravado and it paid off.

wangi falls alastair

See the little guy standing next to the falls? That’s my Mr Vick.

Litchfield has numerous swimming holes and walks you can do and some impressive looking ant holes

ant holes

Our time at Litchfield was quiet. We didn’t adventure out walking too much or exploring the park. We had done that for the past week about Kakadu and now we just wanted to make the most of our last few days sunning and snoozing, toddler allowing of course. We ate up all our food, read our books and watched Little Vick play in the dirt. Packing up our tent for the final time was a bitter sweet moment. Mostly sweet because I was sick of the putting up, packing down process. We were longing for a normal bed and shower and a fridge and vanilla slices and all that modern living stuff which we had wanted to escape. It’s good to miss it thou isn’t it? And we wouldn’t give up our time at Litchfield for anything.baby and me

Today I am linking up with Essentially Jess for the #IBOT party!

 

Getting Intimate with the Mozzi’s of Kakadu

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You may remember I wrote about my husbands plan to embark on a week long camping trek around the Top End last week? Yep. I was going but I was packin’ myself. It didn’t help that we stopped off to do A Jumpin Crocs tour on our way along the Adelaide River. As brilliant as it was it provided a sobering warning for both of us about the realities of swimming in the NT. In fact, seeing the Crocs confidently sunning themselves, with their gigantic ego’s, on numerous river banks on the drive into the Kakadu National Park scared us. Alright, me mostly. I was on the verge of hot footin’ it back to Victoria. I actually heard myself asking in my head whether they could attack the car somehow? Obviously the prospect of going swimming was off. Big NO GO. I was glad Mr Vick was now with me on that one. I hadn’t been too sure previously.

I cheered when we arrived at the Kakadu National Park sign. We were officially somewhere very special. Somewhere that means something to our identity as a nation.

Kakadu is all red dirt, dry fauna and suspicious looking creeks which I know are home to our sharp toothed friends who like to play hidey. There are various tracks to numerous campsites. This is where Mr Vick’s loose planning caused me to come undone. See we hadn’t really discussed what we were going to do when we actually arrived at Kakadu. Very briefly, on the way, we pointed to a dot on our map and said the location looked remote and peaceful and that could maybe be our home but after seeing the Crocs out and just how remote this area was ( and beside a billabong) I “accidentally” directed us passed that no-one-would-know-if-you-were-eaten-campsite and steered us towards a little bit more civilisation cos people equal safety right? Anyway there was a bit of narky tension shared between us about that. Holiday tiff #1. It’s true I usually don’t have a problem with roughing it and escaping the crowd but I was on alert here. I had my protective parental radar on.

We kept driving waiting for the right camp spot to hit us in the face. You may not realise but Kakadu is a kinda large place. I didn’t have the foggiest. It covers over 19,800 square km’s. Lots of opportunities to get lost I’d say but for the most part there are a lot of sealed roads, lots of signs and ample amounts of like minded travellers. There’s about 19-20 designated camping areas and there are 2 types including bush campsites for the more a la naturale, remote experience. You’ll be lucky to get a toilet and a fireplace here and often they are located down some seriously rickety 4WD tracks. Then there’s the managed campsites which are still quite peaceful but have flushing toilets and if your lucky a lukewarm solar powered shower. Sites cost between $5-$10 per person per night. There’s no booking or reservation system so it’s first in best dressed and popular areas do fill up quickly each day so I’d recommend you claim your spot before 4 or 5pm each day.

Anywho, we ended up taking the next turn off and landed at the Merl Camping Ground which is situated close to the Ubirr rock-art site in the East Alligator River to the North East of the park.

We found our own little bush area (and this campsite is more primitive than some of the more southern sites) and we started to set up our new tent, of which we had never attempted before. When tensions are high there’s nothing better than setting up a tent for the first time as a team is there? Tents, portacots… they make idiots of us all at the best of times. We managed it.

(not sure why this is so dark… clearly I still don’t know how to use my fancy camera)

For the rest of the day we slummed it. I mostly kept my eyes peeled for snakes, Little Vick set about stirring up as much dirt as possible and Mr Vick snoozed in the tent. Consequently, Mr Vick was thrilled about our campsite. It was precisely as he had envisaged this outdoorsy adventure to be and I was thrilled about being at a campsite that has some form of running water, considering Little Vick was now a dirt monster.

When night was about to fall we got our campie on and got a fire crackling. This became our stove (and most campsites in Kakadu have camp fire pits). Little Vick was right into the stick snapping, throwing and lighting, naturally. Seriously, do all boys have a little bit of a pyromaniac in them?

The worst moment hit the instant the sun went down. It was like a scene from Alfred Hitchcocks The Birds, except the enemy was the mosquitoes. Those little blood sucking feckers! Let me just say, If people in the NT tell you the mosquitoes are bad, BELIEVE THEM. They were buzzing around in gangs of thousands, ready to suck dry us the innocent visitor. Not very hospitable I’d say. We had mozzi repellent & a citronella candle, that should cover it right? NO EFFECT WHATSOEVER and after half an hour of spraying… the mozzi repellent ran out. CATASTROPHE! I had bites from my face to my little pinky. There was nothing more that could be done but crawl into the protection of our little tent and wait it out. I couldn’t believe it. Held hostage by blood obsessed mozzi’s. What spoil sports. I was miserable. I had visions of toasting marshmallows and reminiscing in front of the fire with Mr Vick. It was going to be brilliant connection time. It’s not quite so romantical however when you’re both in a tent trying to not make a sound in case we wake the toddler up, and grumpy from the itchy welts which are already coming up with enough itch to make you want to peel your own skin off. The term “happy camper” couldn’t be further from the truth.

I already started thinking it. If it’s going to be like this every night, I’m bailing. This is a deal breaker.

But where there is disaster there is always a little miracle right? Little Vick went to sleep without a fight. No complaint. A born camper it turns out. THAT was miracle # 1. # 2 is that we decided to keep our fly off the tent because it was such a balmy evening. I’m sure the NT has not heard of rain in June ever, so we were confident in leaving it off. That meant Mr Vick and I, together with those sucking little feckers loud soundtrack playing around us, could gaze up through the top of the tent to see the most spectacular star dotted sky we’ve ever seen. Not a cloud, not a city light to taint the colour or clarity. It was a real wonder. We peered out at the entire world which was laid out before us - us the insignificant creatures. This was miracle # 2. We watched on quietly absorbing, appreciating. All the insanities of the day disintegrated and we fell into a deep, refreshing sleep ready for a day of exploring to follow. Our Kakadu holiday had begun.

Stay tuned for our super spiritual experience at Ubirr Rock site & further along, swimming on top of a Kakadu waterfall!

 

 

 

 

The Darwin Relaxation Distortion Syndrome

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Darwin…. Is it a lovable place? Or like able? Or just so so? I’m trying to sum up my feelings and memories for you right here but it feels like a bit of daze inside my head. I think it’s called relaxation distortion syndrome (a mysterious doctor identified the syndrome. I think it might be the same one who has diagnosed my case). I was so relaxed it’s all a fuzzy blur, but it’s not like the I’ve been out on the bubbles all night kinda fuzzy, it’s a warm, memorable & happy one (hang over free).

I admit, I had not been out of the Darwin airport for a mere 2 minutes before I heard these words in my head. I like this please. Really like it. How do I seriously find an excuse to live here? Think Woman, think. I can’t remember ever feeling so won over or settled with a place within moments of arrival before. I’m not usually swayed that easy. I blame the warm breeze which greeted us the moment we stepped foot out of the airport. I was vulnerable and welcomed with a balmy yet comfortable heat which seduced me within a moment. Long absences have a profound effect don’t they?

Darwin in those initial moments felt like some exotic international destination to me. The warmth, the tropical foliage, blue water, the air of relaxation which seems to seep into your blood almost instantly…. it could easily be Bali or Thailand. But then there’s the chorus of flip flops, the unmistakable ocker accents mixed in with the European ones. It is a favourite destination for the European traveller. The outdoor bars lining the main streets next to the backpacker accommodation would confirm that it is backpacker haven and the English have never been opposed to some sunshine and spending time in a bar.

It’s an easy, breezy kinda place. Let’s just say anywhere that has consistent warmth, a tendency towards liquor consumption (primarilly beer, of which you can openly drink in public places like at the beach or markets) and with it’s green swaying palms & dusty pink sunsets it radiates tropical heaven – It’s pretty difficult to dislike the place. I don’t know anyone who has been to Darwin and who hasn’t really liked it, or at least who hasn’t been a victim of some kind of relaxation syndrome.

If there is anything to promptly un-relax you, it would be the prospect of coming eye to eye with one of the true locals – the crocodiles who inhabit the surrounding waters. I admit I was freakin’ out about them, like as if they were going to jump up into my suburban bed with me during the night. I can report the suburbs are safe. Even the city streets and frankly from what I could see the beach looked friendly enough too but don’t EVER believe it. Plenty of German tourists have so I’ve heard (and they’ve lost a limb in the process), but there are teeth in those waters ready to nip those toes and a bit more. Such teeth might resemble something like this:

That’s why Darwin has built a little lagoon which attracts visitors like flies to meat left out in the heat. It’s a Croc free swimming zone in the heart of the city. It isn’t all that unsimilar to those built in Cairns, Airlie Beach or Brisbane. They’re all desperately trying to shift visitors attention away from the fact that their beaches are in one way another dull, dangerous and/or just plain un-swimmable. So a lagoon it is. Naturally when it’s 30 degrees no one says no to the lagoon, especially the Europeans. They’re all out with their darkening by the minute midriff on show (I had a few instances of midriff envy I admit) and flirty personalities. The kids don’t mind the place either, of course.

See it’s pretty pretty for a fake isn’t is?

Of course there are more a la naturale options like Berry Springs which is about 30 minutes out of the city. Basically it’s a little bush creek with a pleasant waterfall and warm springs for the family to frolic around in, which is exactly what we did one afternoon when we desired to cool off. It took me 10 minutes to summons the courage up to get in and to tell myself that the lurking shadows in the waters where exactly that and not Mummy eating Crocs….

Could it be ….. ? ?

 Getting my swim on with Little Vick

Like many waterholes, the authorities clear Berry Springs at the start of the dry season so swimmers like me can paddle safely…. (I’m still hesitant in writing that but I guess I didn’t get taken did I?!). Just watch the big underwater rocks which won’t come off second best. Just ask my knee!

There’s a few free pools too which I ADORE since I do have a passion for freebies and fun times. Victoria has a few things to learn from Darwin. Another point for my argument about why we should promptly vacate to the top end I’m thinking.

It’s taken the whole post to sift through the blur but I can say wholeheartedly Darwin is a fairly lovable place. Reality holds us in Victoria of course but If nothing else we are seriously considering it become our little winter home every year so that I get all loved up with my relaxation distortion syndrome! And everyone say AMEN to that!