Darwin to Renner Springs

An Evans-Brooks Barricade at Entrance To Kakadu NP

We left Darwin around 10am Thursday May 16 and headed for the East Alligator river, deep in the bowels of Kakadu National Park. To get to Kakadu from Darwin you take the Arnhem Highway which branches away from the Stuart Highway south of Darwin, and then it’s a drive of around 100 km to the entrance to the Park. There’s an entry fee for everyone who is from out of town and older than 16, or put another way, free if you reside in the NT and/or you’re under 16 years - the fee is ($25). So for all our pre-prepared makeup, short pants and high pitched voices, the Rangers refused to agree to free entry. Sadly, it was TJ who gave it away - his bloumonge ran because of the humidity. He sweats a lot you see ... bastard.

Rock Painting from the Ubirr Art Site.

Anyway, we handed over the money and proceeded on to our destination, which was another 90 km or so. Arriving around 2pm in the afternoon, we set about nestling down in the Merl Campground, which is stones throw from the East Alligator River. I had hoped to catch the last River cruise for the day (3pm) so we headed to what I thought was the rendevous point - bugger, as Maxwell Smart would say “missed it by that much”; ie completely cocked it up. Ended up at the Ubirr Art site - an unintentioned diversion. So, wandered through the site, which comprises rock art from local indigenous folks dating back to who knows when. It was interesting, no question, but it was difficult taking photos with sweat dripping from everywhere and swarms of flies bathing in it - yuk. So I didn’t do this site justice, finally sprinting to the car and the coolness of the airconditioning. Phew, bloody hard work that was. 

Caravaning in the Bowels of Kakadu - East Alligator River

The night spent at the Merl Campground will not be easily forgotten. The Merl Campground is managed by the Kakadu NP Rangers and entry is on a first come, pick your own site basis. The sites are quite large and remote from the next door neighbours and the use of generators is ok in those areas marked accordingly. So we managed to find a site within a generator-friendly zone and set up for the night. Now, this year, the top end has had a dry wet season - in fact the driest wet season in 27 years I’m reliably informed (thanks Rod and Ineke). But there was good rainfall apparently during Easter, and this has led to unseasonly high humidity - something we could not fail to notice while in Darwin. So it’s been “hot and sticky” using the vernacular terminology. So under these circumstances, imagine the following; 35C temperature, 90% humidity during the day decreasing to around 30C and 90% during the night; no air-conditioning, no fans, just incessant heat and humidity all night long. Step outside the van for some urinal relief at 4am (standard practice for 65+ yo persons) - and you’re attacked by Squadrons of Mozzies with suction nozzles the size of a fire hose, all acting in unison, producing a collective sound like a two stroke motorbike under full throttle - it makes your blood boil, which just makes these irritating little bastards all the more excited. Embellishment perhaps, but when you’re eyes are like saucers and you’re half asleep, your mind does tend to exaggerate. But then, when has logic had any meaning at 4am in the morning ?.

Scenery around the East Alligator Area

Alighting to the new day, TJ and self showered, semi-packed the van and headed for the boat ramp from where the East Alligator River boat cruise depart. To say that eagerness was all pervasive would be an understatement and the skies looked promising. At the Upper Boat Ramp, enquiries regarding the purchase of tickets lead to Kevin, the Aboriginal guide (true, that’s his name) mumbling words like ....”$136 for two people ..” and after a bit of mental arithmetic - “that’s $68 for each of you”. Have you ever seen a startled Rabbit ?. Have you ever had an awkward moment when there was a lull in the conversation ?. Have you ever seen two old guys peer into their respective wallets, leafing through what is there, instead of what should be there in order to meet the intended contract, and at the same time quietly thinking “ you’ve got to be f#%&ing kidding ?”.Well, there it was - it happened - and these events all took place within microseconds. After we both came out of our co-jointly induced state of unconsciousness, Kev was given a very polite “ no thanks mate”  and we then both stalked off muttering all sorts of unseemly adjectives under our breathe. So long short (?), the East Alligator River cruise was not to be this time around.

We decided, after this disappointment, to head for Katherine and stay overnight in a Caravan park - we both needed our saucer-like eyes reduced back to normal with a good sleep, so we pulled in to the Low Level (as opposed to Low Life ...) Caravan Park just outside Katherine. Highly recommend this park. It’s huge with excellent amenities and big caravan sites.

Edith Falls - Wide Angle View of Upper Falls Area

But before we got to Katherine, we took a detour to my favourite “watering hole” - Edith Falls. I could bang on about how great this place is - but I won’t. I’ll let the photos do the talking. Suffice to say, in my humble opinion, Edith Falls is one of the most interesting and picturesque set of falls in the top end that I’ve seen, save for perhaps those in the Kimberly’s. That’s a big statement I know, as I haven’t seen them all, but the environment in which it all happens is almost cathartic. And the best part is that because it involves a walk of about 1 km to get there, including a modest climb followed by a modest descent over rocky ground, you don’t get the same number of people you get at other more popular falls, these being easier to access. 

Edith Falls - Upper

Edith Falls - Upper

Saturday May 18 saw us headed south - we weren’t quite sure where we’d end up, but that’s the beauty of not having a firm itinerary. Just south of  Mataranka there’s a turnoff that leads you to the grave sites of many of the characters portrayed in the novel We Of The Never Never. This novel was written around 1908 by Jeannie Aeneas. The original homestead buildings have long since gone - they were demolished during the building of a road in 1942 - but the cemetery still remains. About 300 metres past the cemetery is a cairn erected on the site of the old homestead.

Larimah Pub Company Car

Anyone traveling up or down the Stuart Highway will pass a town by the name of Larimah - an unforgettable town characterised by one colour, and that colour is pink - which rather catches your eye as you travel, thereby achieving the intended purpose of luring you in for a closer look. This we did and like many such towns along this highway, the history of the town is now overpowered by tacky commercial interests. There’s a Museum of sorts, which has been left to fend for itself, and sitting right opposite is this rundown, garish Beverly Hillbillies style pub - painted pink of course - with a collection of “old stuff” that would be of interest, were it not for the fact that most pubs along this Highway seem to have the same “old stuff”. 

Larimah Pub Bar - Management is to the Left

At the time we were there, it appears the business owners were making some “structural adjustments” (ie downsizing) because the place was being managed by a shortish Bikie wearing a stetson, cuban heels, tats from ankles to elbows and, clenched between tabacco stained teeth, a roll-your-own cigarette dripping ash everywhere. Our original intention had been to have a beer and order some food, but upon seeing team management, we thought better of it, ordered a beer (a firmly capped stubby) and moved on. Before we left , TJ asked after the Zoo animals advertised on the Spruiking Board out front. A bloke drinking nearby said  (Quite seriously) "that refers to the clientele" ..... So my recommendation for anyone planning a stopover at Larimah is, drive a stake through your hand because the pain you feel will be nothing compared to the pain you might experience if you stop at this place. 

We had intended to stop overnight at a free camping area adjacent to the old town of Newcastle Waters. As we came round the bend just prior to the camping area, we couldn’t believe the number of caravans that were there. The camp area is like a large semi-circular drive that runs in off the road and then re-emerges back onto the road about 100 metres further on. We drove very slowly along this driveway and there was not one single area available for us to pull the van in. The vans were parked next to each other like bloody sardines. Mama Cass was hanging the washing out on a line strung between two 12” (300mm) tree trunks (everything must have been size XXXXL), the card tables were out and the Chablis was flowing - the Grey Nomads were in town !. We didn’t want to get into that scene so, we hit the accelerator, pressed on and ended up stopping at Renner Springs, about 120 km further down the road. 

Renner Springs Roadhouse - NT

Got talking to an ex-truckie who was heading to Darwin to catch up with his wife, who was arriving there after a trip to Hawaii. Very interesting bloke with some fabulous stories to tell. And he even mentioned the same concern I have - and that is the NT, like WA, is starting to become expensive. With most of the big caravan parks charging $40+ per night now for 2 people - and then they jack that up during the peak season of June through August by a further 10+% - the traveling wood-duck (tourist) is now being hunted just like those poor unfortunates during duck season. Petrol prices range from the half reasonable of around $1.60 in the bigger towns to the unreasonable of $2.00 in the smaller roadhouses. That’s a 25% premium. You can feel the skin (yours) being peeled away as you hand over the money. And barely a blink of the eye or shameless look visits upon the face of the receiver. I know they provide a service in a remote location, and you can expect to pay extra for that. But a 25% premium on fuel is starting to make the eyes water.

 As I said of someone in an earlier scribble, there is a soullessness about transactions relating to anything touristy up this way. Sadly, the outback is starting to feel like the city, not because of the everyday people who live and work the normal outback jobs - they’re really interesting and open people - but because of the Pedro-come-swiftly sharks - the bottom-feeders - who gouge at any opportunity to make a killing. But I fear they may, in  the end, kill the very trade that keeps them in business. 

End or sermon .... stepping away from the Soap Box ....

Hanging around the Caravan park was a Border Collie by the name of Bear. Beautiful dog, getting on in age according to the guy guiding us into a overnight parking spot but very affectionate. He is owned by the Renner Springs Cattle Station people. According to Guide bloke, because Bear has outlived his usefulness as a working dog, the “lady” of the station takes to him with a whip when he goes back home. She apparently doesn’t want him around so Bear comes around the Caravan park looking for friends. And those he has in spades. Everyone, us included, dotes on him and looks after him. Whip lady, according to Guide bloke, has even tried to run him (Guide bloke) down with her car for some obscure reason - never fully explained. And there’s more - according to Guide bloke, the reason the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS) doesn’t come to Renner Springs is because Whip Lady asks ridiculous amounts from the RFDS for them to land on the only airstrip in town, which happens to be on her property. So Whip Lady sounds like a real Honey. To the contrary, her husband sounds like a whimp. Either that or Whip lady takes to him with the whip - and he likes it. OMG !