The big smoke

It’s about 400 km from Dubbo to where we live, Narrabeen, thereof around 100 km through Sydney’s metropolitan area — a time-consuming drive. As we don’t want to arrive at home late in the day, we set up camp once more. This time in Glenbrook in the Blue Mountains, right on Sydney’s doorsteps, a mere 2-hours from home.

Glenbrook sits on approximately 150 m altitude, and here the Blue Mountains are quite different from what you’d usually associate with this national park: Instead of deep canyons, the Glenbrook area features quintessential Australian bush with old eucalypt forests spread across sandstone ridges and deep river gorges. The Nepean River, which together with its associated mouth, the Hawkesbury River, virtually encircles the Sydney region, is in walking distance.

The campground in the Blue Mountains National Park offers a beautiful natural setting. What a contrast to Dubbo’s commercial caravan park in the middle of the city, fenced off with barbed wire! Niklas and grand-dad Siegfried quickly collect some firewood, and soon we have dinner at a cosy fire, the last one for a long time. Not sure if I will miss pasta and tomato sauce though … :-)

That night it starts raining. But we are lucky enough that the drizzle stops early in the morning so we can pack up our tent in dry conditions. We realise that for the last 12 weeks the weather gods have been smiling on us as we had hardly any rain: The first night, the last one, a spectacular thunderstorm at the Devils Marbles, and some drizzle in the Paluma Ranges National Park — that was it!

So what remains after exactly 14,210 km? Some worn out garments, more than enough photos to bore the pants off our friends, lots of fond memories. But also the feeling that we have now got a very good insight into Australia. Most importantly, however, the realisation that we are fortunate to live in a lovely spot. Even after having seen so many diverse regions of this continent, we still believe that our suburb in Sydney’s east is one of the best places to live. Yes, admittedly a bit on the coolish side in winter. But that’s easier to cope with than the steaming hot summers in tropical Queensland. The occasional shark alarm or some blue bottle jellyfish. Nothing compared to crocs or deadly box jellyfish north of Rockhampton. Sometimes busy and crowded roads and shops. But would you want to swap this for the remoteness of central Australia where kids can’t walk to school?

You'd catch 'em surfin' at Del Mar
Ventura County line
Santa Cruz and Trestle
Australia's Narrabeen
All over Manhattan
And down Doheny Way

Everybody's gone surfin'
Surfin' U.S.A.

There is a reason why Narrabeen is mentioned in this 1963 Beach Boys song. (Unfortunately, I don't have a surfboard ...)

If you don't have a surfboard ...

Narrabeen rock pool

Collaroy rock pool

Collaroy beach

Dee Why beach

In essence, though our journey could have gone on and on and on, we are also happy to be back at home. After all, we can now catch up with all those friends whom for 3 months we only stayed in touch with via this little blog.

[Glenbrook, Euroka campground, 25.-26. September]

— T H E   E N D —

Happy kids

Dubbo (population 42,000) serves a catchment of around 130,000 people, more than half the population of the entire Northern Territory. There is no denial: We are on the doorsteps of Sydney, which is only 400 km away. Long before arriving in Dubbo, the scenery has changed completely: The arid plains of the outback have been replaced by grasslands, the traffic has increased, the landscape is criss-crossed by lots of roads, the majority of them sealed and much wider than the highways that we travelled along in the Red Center.

There is one particular reason for our visit to Dubbo: It’s our thank-you present for Niklas and Jonas. Dubbo features the open-range Taronga Western Plains Zoo, which is home to various species of endangered animals, including some rhinoceroses. The zoo runs some successful breeding programs, and many of the animals in Sydney’s Taronga Zoo, which our boys love to visit, were born here.

Niklas and Jonas have been very patient trip companions. In a bit less than 12 weeks we have covered a distance of more than 14,000 km. Some of the stages demanded a great deal from two little boys who had just turned 7 one day before we left Sydney. Nonetheless, not a single “are we there yet?”.

Jonas, an avid reader, read several volumes of Enid Blyton’s “Mystery” series, a few German “Kommissar Kugelblitz” books, and finally the complete 7-volume “Harry Potter” series (volume 5 contains 800 pages …). When we eventually ran out of books towards the end of our journey, he simply read volumes 1-3 again.

Niklas, though his reading skills are nothing short of his brother’s, spent more time gazing through the window at the moving landscape outside.

Finally, both were busy working on their school assignments (though some gentle pressure had to be applied by Claudia and me …)

"Dad, stop taking photos of me!"

We rent some bicycles and spend 2 interesting days zig-zagging through the vast expanses of the zoo, rounded off with ice cream and souvenirs from the zoo shop. The kids are happy, and so are we.

Fancy seeing you here!

[Dubbo, 22.-25. September]

Home stretch

Turning eastward another stage of our journey begins: The return trip to Sydney. Now where we have only got a bit more than one week left, this last leg of the journey feels like the home stretch. We still have got 1,500 km to cover, but there are only a few stops on our list, the most important one being Dubbo where we want to visit the zoo.

But first we stop in Broken Hill, quintessentially an outback town. We have to admit that we aren’t well-prepared. There are certainly quite a few things to do in Broken Hill. For instance visiting the ghost town of Silverton where the movie Mad Max II was shot. Or strolling along one of the art trails. For us, however, Broken Hill looks like yet another mining town. And after inhaling — and enjoying — the fresh breeze of spring in South Australia, the outback has lost its appeal. Here in New South Wales it looks less intriguing than in Central Australia anyway: Most of the time the Indian-Pacific railway line runs parallel to the road, and the plains show a wisp of colours: Springtime has found its way into this harsh environment as well. After what we had experienced in Central Australia, it feels like “Outback lite”.

As mentioned above, I am totally unfair in my assessment. We are simply not well-prepared for a real Broken Hill experience, but unfortunately we can’t change this now. And it doesn’t really help that the campgrounds don’t cut it: The first one that we explore is a waste dump, and on the second one we get the very last spot with campsite neighbours only a metre away. Compared to the natural settings of most campgrounds on our trip this feels suffocating.

So we hastily leave the town after one night and head further east where after a day in the car we eventually arrive in Cobar. Here we are lucky enough to find a campsite on the banks of a small lake and bird sanctuary. We have a campfire and, most likely for the last time, enjoy the clear night sky with millions of twinkling stars.

[Broken Hill, 20.-21. September]
[Cobar, 21.-22. September]

Change of plans

Our next stop was supposed to be the Clare Valley north of Adelaide. But kids aren’t that interested in wine tastings. Claudia, who compared to me is a more “outdoorsy” person, finds a winery near Mount Remarkable National Park that offers best of all worlds: camping on their grounds; hiking in the national park; wine tasting in the evening. Plus the added benefit of a shorter drive.

At closer inspection it unfortunately turns out that this winery doesn’t cut it. But we  nonetheless decide to stay in the region, the Southern Flinders Ranges, in Melrose, a tiny village (population 200) that prides itself of being the oldest settlement in the area. Indeed it is a beautiful spot with two historic pubs, a nice café in an old bank building, and all the essential stores that cater for your everyday needs. The area seems to be a mountain biking Mecca, and a high-calibre bike shop compliments the offering.

Niklas and Jonas make new friends on the campsite’s playground and get invited over to play dates. You have to keep the kids happy! :-)

We all start hiking up Mount Remarkable. Half way up its (rather gentle) slope, after a lunch break with a view over the grassy plains that are dotted with sheep the family returns to the campsite.

Geometry

Only I continue the climb. At the summit, I get rewarded with views of the Southern Ocean and Eyre Peninsula in the far distance.

[Melrose, 18.-20. September]

Colours

We stay for one night in Port Augusta on the Southern Ocean. It feels good to be back by the sea. Yet, the main reason for our visit is to stock up on food and then head north again, more precisely: north-east, towards the Flinders Ranges.

Shortly after we have left Port Augusta the landscape changes dramatically, and what a welcome change it is! The hills are covered in lush green. The creeks carry water. We haven’t seen this for weeks, not since we left the Atherton Tablelands. For 5 weeks and 7,000 km all rivers and creeks that we have crossed were bone-dry. The only exceptions, West, South, and East Alligator River in Kakadu National Park, are tidal waters, estuaries, fed by the sea. This is an arid country.

A new feature begins to dominate the scenery: Red River Gums, beautiful, majestic trees that tower over the landscape. And there are emus, lots of emus. This seems to be a wonderful region.

However, dozens of farm ruins dot the plains and tell a different story about droughts, bush fires, and floods. About promise, disappointment, and eventually failure. The climate has proven to be totally unreliable. Don’t make a mistake: Even now there are way more dry creeks than ones that carry a bit of water.

But there is no denial: It’s springtime, and we are eager to soak in the green, yellow, and purple hues of the blooming flowers and bushes. We are so tired of grey spinifex grass!

The Flinders Ranges are a bushwalker’s paradise. We set up our tent at a stunning campsite at Wilpena Pound, and emus and kangaroos that roam the (dry) river bed are regular visitors. The Pound is a geological feature, a wall of mountains around a natural amphitheatre of around 17 km in diameter. We climb up two of these mountains, Mount Ohlssen-Bagge, where we take the whole family (including kids and grandparents), and St. Mary’s Peak that only Claudia and I conquer. Both are hard, steep climbs over loose gravel and rocky outcrops, but the views are rewarding. In the distance, the gleaming expanses of Lake Torrens dominate the scenery. No, it's not water reflecting the sunlight. Lake Torrens is usually a dry salt flat. It has only been filled with water once in the past 150 years. Have I told you that this is an arid continent?

Hard to believe, but hundreds of millions of years ago a huge inland sea covered this ancient landscape, formed layers of sediments that hardened under the pressure. The sea receded, the layers tilted upright and started eroding. Narrow gorges in these folds provide an insight into our Earth’s early history. We drive through them — the cobblestone-sized gravel is brutal on our car — and admire the different colours all representing a different stage of this geological timeline.

We had to make a detour to get to the Flinders Ranges, and for a while we had toyed with the idea to remove them from our itinerary. We are glad that we didn’t!

[Port Augusta, 12.-13. September]
[Wilpena Pound, 13.-18. September]

Lunatics

If you always wanted to travel to the moon, but couldn’t afford the return ticket, a visit to Coober Pedy is a worthwhile alternative.

Exactly 100 years ago a lucky fellow discovered opals in the region. Lucky not only because of this find, but also because he had the chance to share the news with others: A heavy thunderstorm came to his rescue just when he was about to die of thirst.

Anyway, opals were the only reason why a town was founded in this harsh, bone-dry area, and they are still the only reason why anyone in his right senses* would want to live here. The name is the English version of the Aborigine word Kopa Pity, “white man in a hole”. This aptly describes the scenery that awaits you when you approach the town: The whole desert is covered in dugouts and piles of sand and gravel. No wonder the post-apocalyptic movie Mad Max III was filmed here. Apparently there are more than 250,000 mine shafts in the area, and big signs warn tourists about this imminent danger.

We stay for 2 nights, visit an old opal mine and another Coober Pedy oddity: An underground home. Around half of the town’s population lives in dugouts to shelter from the extreme climate with more than 50° in summer and freezing nighttime temperatures in winter. Even motels, backpacker hostels, churches were built underground! Sometimes the building costs are covered by the opals that are found during home construction.

A few kilometres outside of Coober Pedy there is another weird sight: The dog fence. Around 1880, some wealthy farmers joined forces and built a 5,300 km fence to protect their sheep from dingoes. This fence, the longest in the world, is still maintained and in use. It certainly helps to keep the majority of dingoes out of South Australia’s grazing regions. But nobody really seems to bother about the ecological side-effects of this barrier on other animals.

Another attraction of the area is The Breakaways, named because this hill range is separated from the Stuart Ranges that dominate the rest of the landscape’s horizon. The Breakaways give you an idea of what can still be discovered in this vast continent. It’s mainly an attraction due to its proximity to the highway — only 25 km on dirt roads —, not necessarily because of its uniqueness. Colourful rock formations like these must be abundant if you travel further off the beaten track. Anyway, we enjoy the scenery, especially around sunset. Not only because of the spectacular colour display, but also because the gazillions of terrorising flies finally go to sleep …

*Footnote: Though most of them must be a bit eccentric, the folk in Coober Pedy turn out to be a friendly and interesting bunch of people.

[Coober Pedy, 10.-12. September]

The track

From Kings Canyon, we head south along Luritja Road and the Lasseter Highway until we eventually reach the intersection with the Stuart Highway at Erldunda. From here, everything is unchartered territory for us. Back in 2005 when Claudia and I travelled through central Australia, we covered the region between Uluru and Darwin; but we didn’t make it into the vast desert expanses of South Australia.

It’s getting a bit dull. The road is lined by prickly, dry, brown Spinifex Grass. There aren’t many features in the landscape. Traffic is insignificant; oncoming drivers raise their hand for a friendly hello. A section of the highway is marked as an emergency landing tarmac for the Royal Flying Doctor Service. Bear in mind, this is the major artery through the centre of this continent. It’s beyond belief.

Back in Sydney our plan was to sleep at some featureless roadside rest area. But there is so little to do that we decide to head on and try to cover as much distance as possible. So we eventually reach Marla, South Australia, population 150, just in time before dusk when it gets busy on the highway where kangaroos, camels, cattle take over.

The Marla road house is actually a friendly spot, and we enjoy a few beers and, as a special treat and because it is so late, a meal that wasn’t prepared on the camp stove. The night sky is spectacular, and I can take long exposure photos of road trains in front of the service station. No Photoshop, trust me!

Can you spot the Southern Cross?

Marla is the starting point for one of Australia’s most iconic Outback tracks, the Oodnadatta Track, a 615 km dirt road that connects Marla and Marree as an adventurous alternative to the Stuart Highway. Our team (and vehicle) set-up doesn’t allow us to drive along this route. Yet we take the opportunity to venture off the main road for a few kilometres and see what our inner-city car is capable of. This photo, however, shows our campsite neighbours on their way to Oodnadatta. They are certainly better prepared:

It’s almost time to say good-bye to the Outback. I must admit that I like it. Yes, it’s impossible to get a tent peg into the rock-solid ground. Yes, the flies are a nuisance. But you really learn to appreciate the little things in life that we take for granted: Hot showers, cold beers, the sight of a flowering bush. The geology, the whole natural setting is fascinating. Though the landscape looks so harsh, it’s an important eco-system, and we see emus, eagles, and lots of reptiles along (and sometimes on) the road.

[Marla, 9.-10. September]

Canyon and domes

Just when you think that things cannot get any better, you come to Kings Canyon in the Watarrka National Park.

About 440 million years ago, central Australia was covered by a huge inland sea. When it receded, sand dunes formed on top. They again got glued together by mineral-rich water, thus forming a layer of hard sandstone on top of a softer one. When they rose above the surrounding plains, the George Gill Range was formed. The Kings Creek carved a spectacular canyon through it with overhanding rocks and sheer cliffs of around 100 metres height.

Watarrka National Park is recognised for three reasons: its cultural significance, geology and biodiversity. The geology is obvious, however the most obvious fauna feature is the flies, which are really annoying in this semi-arid zone.

The most prominent hike is the rim walk, and according to the warning signs it’s the most dangerous on our whole journey: Repeatedly visitors are asked if they feel fit enough, whether they are well prepared and carrying enough water. On days with forecast temperatures above 36° the track gets closed at 9 am. On a ranger-guided tour we learn that the mercury up on the rim can rise to more than 50°.

Though it is still winter, we therefore start early. And we are lucky: While the top temperature on the previous day was in the mid-thirties, a cold front has come through and dropped them to mid-20. So we don’t have to rush to complete the hike. Instead, we can detour to lookouts and into the Garden of Eden, a permanent waterhole in the canyon.

The next day we reveal a well-kept secret: Kings Canyon is the start of a 2-day hike to Kathleen Springs along the Giles Track. We decide to follow it for a few kilometres and return along the same route.

Typical Aussie hiking track

What we discover leaves us speechless: On top of the plateau there are hundreds of weathered sandstone domes — a paradise to climb on for Jonas and Niklas. The whole scenery reminds us of old Inka pyramids. Only that it was Mother Nature who built them millions of years ago.

[Kings Canyon, Watarrka NP, 6.-9. September]

Thirty-six boulders and one big rock

In German the words “fahren” (to drive) and “erfahren” (to experience) share the same etymological roots. Never does this make more sense than when approaching Uluru after a journey as long as ours; it truly is an “Er-Fahrung” (experience). Even though there are still around 4,000 km ahead of us, arriving at this icon is like the end of a pilgrimage. Watching the red rock slowly rise behind the horizon is a mind-boggling experience. This is indeed the spiritual heart of Australia.

Dawn at Uluru

Many organised tours arrive in the afternoon, drive to the dedicated sunset watching area, enjoy a glass of champagne, stay for a night, then take some photos from the sunrise lookout before leaving for the next destination — after less than a day. Hence we feel blessed that we had the privilege to drive here and have the opportunity to stay for a few days, thus digging deeper and getting a better understanding of this significant site.

The sheer size and stunning beauty of Uluru make you feel humble, they put everything into perspective. For the local Aborigine community, the Anangu, this is a sacred site. Uluru is like a storybook that illustrates the “Tjukurpa”, the story about creation of life and land and the relationship between man, plants, animals, and landscape. On a ranger-guided tour we listen to the Anangu story about the beginning, when a giant Mala wallaby and a mole (of course one of the marsupial variety …) shaped the land.

The next day it’s Kata Tjuta that we explore on an extensive hike through the aptly named Valley of the Winds. As a result of the whole set-up of national park and resort, Kata Tjuta, located around 50 km from Uluru, attracts fewer visitors than its “big brother”. Which is totally unjustified, because these huge boulders are simply stunning. They rise up to more than 500 metres from the surrounding desert plains, much higher than Uluru (348 m). It’s good fun to explore the narrow gorges between these “many heads”, which is the English translation of the Anangu name Kata Tjuta.

We stay for a few more days, hike around the base of Uluru, a 10 1/2 km walk, enjoy the cool pool, the glowing sunsets, and the clear night skies with countless stars. Eventually we have to pack up our tent to head to our next destination, Kings Canyon.

[Yulara, Uluru-Kata Tjuta NP, 1.-6. September]

Upside-down rivers

On our way south we set up camp at the Finke River, central Australia’s longest river (around 650 km) and one of the oldest in the world. Some 650 million years ago sitting on its banks you could have witnessed how marine life made it onto dry land for the very first time.

None of central Australia’s rivers sees the ocean. In actual fact, most of them don’t even carry permanent water. The few times they get flooded — and after heavy rainfall they can become strong torrents — the water evaporates or disperses in huge floodplains where it then replenishes artesian water basins deep under the surface. These aquifers are actually the basis for all human settlements in the Outback.

Huge Ghost Gum trees line the banks of these rivers. A tell-tale sign that there is still some water buried under the sand — hence the local term “upside-down rivers”. Many animals survive here for many month. It leaves you lost for words how animals and plants have adapted to these harsh conditions.

Central Australia's longest river. River?!?

[Finke River Rest Area, 31. August - 1. September]

The Alice and MacDonnell Ranges

We head further south to Alice Springs. The main reason for our visit to the “Capital of Outback Australia” is to stock up on vegetables, fruit, meat, muesli etc. But we cease the opportunity to visit the Alice Springs School of the Air (ASSOA), the biggest classroom in the world covering an area of more than 1 1/2 million square kilometres, roughly twice the size of Germany. Some classmates live 2,000 km apart. They meet each other four times per year in The Alice, but the bulk of education is delivered via satellite dishes and the internet. ASSOA is a public school, so most costs are covered through tax-funding. Though running costs are about three times higher than for a common public school, federal funding is basically the same. Hence the school relies on third-party financial contributions; the whole visitor centre is part of this. We book a guided tour and buy some books for Niklas and Jonas. For them this visit is particularly interesting as they haven’t seen their very own classroom for ten weeks now and are enjoying home-schooling by Claudia and me instead.

East and west of The Alice are the MacDonnell Ranges, some folds in the earth crust that extend over a distance of a few hundred kilometres from west to east. Apparently these hills were once higher than today’s Himalaya. But that was a long time ago, long before the Indian subcontinent even started moving north, in the process forming Mount Everest and the like.

Once again we realise how ancient the Australian continent is, its geology, flora, fauna. Oldest river in the world (Finke); prehistoric animals that survived the extinction of the dinosaurs, basically unaltered till today (saltwater crocodiles); the oldest still living culture in the world, the Aborigines who have lived here for approximately 20,000 to 40,000 years. It blows your mind!

A particular gem in the West MacDonnell Ranges is Ormiston Gorge.

We stay for two nights and explore the area on a few hikes. One of them leads up the slopes of the hills, down into the pound — a huge rocky amphitheatre — on the opposite side, from there over boulders through the gorge back to our campsite.

Ormiston Pound — worth a panorama photo

There is only little water in the gorge, but dark algae marks high on the red cliffs are clear indicators that after heavy rain this can be a torrent. Only the pool at the entrance to the gorge holds permanent water. Huge ghost gums line the dry river bed.

We later learn that the Ormiston Pound Hike was recently named Australia’s number one hike. If you think that we had to share the track with heaps of other hiking enthusiast, you obviously haven’t been to Down Under yet: On our 4 1/2 hour trip we meet two more people …

[Alice Springs, 28.-29. August]
[Ormiston Gorge, West Macdonnell Ranges NP, 29.-31. August]

Devil's Marbles

From Kakadu National Park we head south, once again visiting the familiar places that we had seen on the northbound journey: Edith Falls, Daly Waters, Banka Banka station. Once we have passed Three Ways, the intersection of Stuart Highway and Barkly Highway (which we had travelled on on our trip from the coast to the red centre), we are on unknown territory.

Well, not quite, as Claudia and I had been here around ten years ago. So it’s no surprise that our next stop is hand-picked, a special place: The Devil’s Marbles, today named Karlu Karlu, an area of boulders strewn all over the place. Geologists would tell you that this impression is totally wrong. In actual fact these formations are the result of a huge granite slap with vertical and horizontal cracks eroding through extreme weather conditions.

The size of these boulders ranges from one to around ten metres, and many have got symmetrical shapes. Some look as if you could easily tip them over or get them rolling by a gentle push. We try hard, but to no avail.

[Devil’s Marbles (Karlu Karlu), 27.-28. August]

Gagadju

No trip to Australia’s Top End is complete without a visit to Kakadu National Park. This huge area, far more than 20,000 km2 in size, is listed by UNESCO as a world heritage area, even twice, for its natural and cultural values. And for very good reason.

I have to admit that many years ago on Claudia’s and my first visit to this natural gem I didn’t appreciate this that much. Back then, Kakadu seemed to be a park with long distances between the points of interest, high temperatures, and gazillions of mozzies. Thanks to some excellent ranger-guided tours, this time I got a deeper understanding about the intricacies of the park and its significance for its traditional owners.

The Thylacine got extinct on mainland Australia around 4,000 years ago, so this painting must be older

For example, we learn about the Aborigine law in kinship, about their elaborate rules to prevent intermarriage. Of course the rangers explain how natural resources got utilised, as tools, weapons, food. From generation to generation, over tens of thousands of years, knowledge has been handed down: On how to prepare a toxic plant so it becomes eatable; where to find water; when to hunt turtles so they are fleshiest etc. One of the most important skills, which nowadays is used by the “white fellas” as well, is about using controlled bush fires to maintain a healthy natural environment.

When in the Seventies, before Kakadu was declared a national park, mining companies mapped sections with high uranium deposits, they matched those no-go areas that Aborigines had learned to avoid: For generations they had known that living in these areas would result in early death or miscarriages. Asking them could have saved the mining corporations millions of dollars. :-)

Today, Kakadu National Park is jointly managed by aborigines and white fellas. Some decades ago the land was given back to its traditional owners, then leased back to the National Parks Organisation. Step by step English names for certain spots are reverted to their original names, a tendency that can be observed throughout the Northern Territory: Ayers Rock has become Uluru again, the Olgas are Kata Tjuta, Nourlangie Rock is now Burrunggui.

As mentioned above, we spend a lot of time on ranger-guided tours. Apart from that we enjoy the sunset at Ubirr, overlooking Arnhem Land and Kakadu’s rocky escarpments and floodplains. In the East Alligator River, just next to Cahills Crossing, the passage into Arnhem Land, we see so many (saltwater) crocodiles that you could reach the opposite river bank by hopping from croc to croc. Definitely not a good spot for swimming!

We see even more crocs plus an abundance of other wildlife on two boat cruises on Yellow Water, the billabong and huge floodplains of the South Alligator River: One at sunset, one at sunrise.

Waiting — for you!

Finally a short note for German readers: The name Kakadu is derived from the word Gagadju, the name of one of the local Aborigine languages. It has nothing to do with the cockatoo (German: Kakadu). Though we indeed spot quite a lot of red-tailed black cockatoos — and certainly there are other varieties around as well —, don’t expect an abundance of these birds in Kakadu National Park.

[Muriella Park, Kakadu NP, 20.-21. August]
[Jabiru, Kakadu NP, 21.-23. August]
[Cooinda, Kakadu NP, 23.-24. August]

Swimming with crocs

Our plan was to visit Edith Falls (Leliyn) in Nitmiluk National Park for a few hours, hike to the upper pool, go for a quick swim in the plunge pool, and then continue north. It turns out that this place is so beautiful, so special, that we stay for almost 3 days (and a week later on our way back south from Kakadu National Park towards Alice Springs return for yet another night).

Edith Falls is a series of waterfalls that cascade through several pools into a little lake, which is perfect for swimming. The signage ensures us that the area is croc-free. Saltwater crocodile-free, that is. On our second visit to Edith Falls we learn that there are freshwater crocodiles living in the plunge pool. However, they are not interested in us human beings and during daytime usually hide in the downstream creek. So yes, we actually swam with crocs!

Rest assured, this doesn’t result in an adrenaline rush. The experience of swimming through the lake to the waterfall, of climbing up onto the rocks, of enjoying a natural shower is already stimulation enough.

A few words about saltwater crocodiles: The label “saltwater” is actually misleading. The more fitting name would be estuarine crocodiles as it’s the estuaries of rivers that are their main habitat. From there, they can go upstream for a long distance, eventually ending up in lakes like Edith Fall’s plunge pool. Croc traps and careful observation through rangers minimise the risk of having one of these anti-pets swimming with the tourists (and feeding on them …). In the wet season when the water level rises, so does the likelihood of having “salties” in the pool; it therefore gets closed for a few months.

Luckily we don’t have to worry. We enjoy the pools: In the morning, when we have breakfast at the upper pool, go for a swim afterwards, and have the whole area for ourselves till around 10 am loads of tourists arrive. In the evening, when the sun colours the cliffs into a glowing orange, and a local fella plays the didgeridoo. A place of contemplation, of reflection, not only reflections.

[Edith Falls (Leliyn), Nitmiluk National Park, 18.-20. and 24.-25. August]

Nitmiluk — place of the cicada dreaming

Nitmiluk National Park is one of the highlights of any trip to central Australia’s north, the so-called “Top End”. It features stunning gorges with water holes in between, and some of the most beautiful waterfalls.

The Katherine Gorge section of the park is particularly popular as you can hire a canoe and paddle into the gorges with their steep rock cliffs. When we arrive, we are told that pre-booking is a must and no boat would be available for the next few days. Though it is hard to believe that you have to ring up a canoe rental way in advance, we have to accept this fact. After a night on a nice campground we head further north towards Kakadu National Park, the top attraction of the Northern Territory. However, our first stop is only 50 km down the road, again in Nitmiluk National Park, but this time the Edith Falls (Leliyn) section. Just for a lunch break. At least that’s the plan …

Leliyn, upper pool

More about this amazing spot in the next blog.

[Katherine, 17.-18. August]

Dust and concrete

The tiny settlement of Daly Waters features two attractions: A pub that claims to be the oldest in the Outback, and a huge airfield, which turns out to be Australia’s first international airport.

Back in the days when the distance between Sydney and Singapore was too far, planes would touch down one last time on Australian soil to refuel in Daly Waters. Of course the airport isn’t used today anymore; the whole settlement only consists of a handful of houses. Still the old hangar attracts lots of tourists, and rumour has it that the airfields could have been used as an emergency landing site for space shuttles when the program was still running.

The pub is an eccentric little place covered in a huge array of memorabilia that tourists left there: Passports and car number plates are the more “normal” items. Collections of bras and other pieces of underwear represent a fashion show on what’s been en-vogue across the planet over the last decades.

We have a beer or two before we resort to our tent site. Unfortunately the camp site next to the pub is the dustiest place in Australia. Jonas and Niklas play soccer in the ankle-deep bull dust, and after a few minutes it's impossible to tell them apart. So when we return to Daly Waters a fortnight later, after our tour to the Top End, we stay at the roadhouse on the highway instead.

[Daly Waters, 16.-17. and 25.-26. August]

Banka Banka

200 kilometres after an uneventful stopover for the night at Barkly Homestead Roadhouse, we reach the Stuart Highway, the major artery through the centre that connects Adelaide in the South with Darwin in the North. If you think that things change, think again! The traffic is so low that oncoming car drivers wave their hand. The road continues to be unfenced, and of course there is only one lane; now however for each direction.

Our first stop is Banka Banka Station. Banka Banka is a lovely and relaxed spot. A historic cattle farm, and there is a little private museum with collectables that witness a time long gone by.

In Aussie terms Banka Banka with its 1,500 skm area is average size — but still bigger than most German councils. Today, only around 200 skm are still being used for cattle farming. We presume that the revenue through camping is more important now.

In walking distance from the station’s dwellings there is a waterhole that at dusk apparently attracts lots of wildlife. It's here that Claudia and I (after our first visit in 2005) rediscover the magnificent colours of the Outback, especially the teaming orange of the glowing rock surfaces, and the bright white of majestic eucalyptus trees.

After sunset, a community fire is lit in the farmyard, and an interesting bunch of people from all over the world sits together over a happy banter. We like the place so much that we return again after our “detour” up north to Kakadu National Park.

[Barkly Homestead Roadhouse, 14.-15. August]
[Banka Banka Outstation, 15.-16. and 26.-27. August]

Copper, lead, zinc and silver

The first impression of Mount Isa can easily be a slap in the face: In a typical German town centre you’d find the marketplace with the church, town hall nearby, perhaps a museum. The whole town is arranged around these fix-points that represent our cultural values. Mount Isa is a mining town — and there is no doubt about it!

Mount Isa Mines, hard to miss — even without binoculars

We drive through undulating landscape with impressive rock formations before we eventually cross a crest into town. The next moment all we see is Mount Isa mine, light-lit, huge, dominant. Only slowly do we realise that there are other buildings arranged around this centre of gravity: supermarkets, service stations, residential areas in the far distance. Mount Isa, population 12,000, is by far the biggest town on our way west. A huge proportion of this country’s wealth is based on mining and exporting natural resources, and it’s interesting to be that close to one of the pace-makers of Australia’s economy. Yet after a good night’s rest we decide to leave and head further west where we soon leave Queensland and enter the Northern Territory.

Bye-bye Queensland!

[Mount Isa, 13.-14. August]