How do you like your bum nuts?

Kids were amused

I like my bum nuts sunny side up and runny, preferably with a few rashers of fried pig with fart pills on the side. What this translates to is eggs, bacon, and baked beans. The drive down to Alice Springs was punctuated by alien sightings, a surprising zoo, hot springs, large geological formations, a twitchers paradise without the birds, and a stopover at Daly Waters - home to Chilli the bush poet. Blame the Daly Waters pub’s penchant for Australian outback lingo for this blog’s opening line.

There isn’t much else to Daly Waters than the pub which has managed to carve out a solid niche for itself in the travelling tourist market between Darwin and Alice Springs. It is world famous not for being Australia’s first international airport, but for it’s “beef ‘n’ barra BBQ”, apparently. Twenty four dollars and you get a crack at the salad buffet too. A cheap caravan site soon morphed into a splurge night complete with red wine and dessert, and paddlepops for the kids, heaven. Shame the Leonards got into a barney with the caravan park attendant which meant they couldn’t / wouldn’t stay there too.

Pelican sunset, Lake Woods

They missed out on Chilli, the bush poet / entertainer. Pretty funny show really. He stood up in front of the crowd, thumbs in his belt loops, leant back onto the raised heels of his riding boots and didn’t stop talking and laughing at his own jokes for two hours. He was doing alright too until the very end when he recited his poem, “The Flag”, which essentially argues that because people have died fighting for the flag, it shouldn’t be changed no matter what those pinko, greenie, commie, leftie, over-educated city folk say.

First kids to try this...

Now, there’s a very good chance I was the only pinko, greenie, commie, leftie, over-educated city folk type person in the audience, but I saw an opportunity. I wrote my own piece of bush poetry. I argued that no one dies for a flag, especially one with another country’s flag in its top corner. They die for what the flag represents, and therefore, we need a flag that is a true representation of Australia. I sent the poem to Chilli care of the Daly Waters pub. I haven’t heard back.

Footy practice, Northern Territory style

From there, it was a straight road. A night at Lake Woods to birdwatch, but most of the birds had gone except for some pelicans. We had an overnight stop at the Devil’s Marbles which we decided wouldn’t have been very good to use as marbles no matter how big or devilish you were. Still it was serene once we got away from the crowded camping area, and were able to wander through the spinifex discovering perfect homes for little people amongst the boulders.

Bush stone curlew

We were up and out early the next morning making no attempt to break the journey into Alice up. The three wise monkeys in the back had decided that the Big 4 was the place to stay, and so that’s where we went. For once, a park lived up to its hype earning an unprecedented 10/10 Ned rating. Two jumping pillows, three pools, free entertainment at night including star talks (saw Saturn’s rings), a didgeridoo concert (won a CD), a 4WD talk (learnt a new theory on tyre pressure), and the clincher, an all you can eat pancake breakfast on Sunday morning.



We stayed in Alice for four days. The desert park was a big hit, as was the library and the didgeridoo workshop. The Leonards were here too, so Ivy and Summer painted their nails, braided their hair, and bounced around a lot. We left on Wednesday for the East MacDonnell Ranges, and Trephina Gorge. Even given the fact that it is difficult to pay $7.70 for a camping spot and be disappointed, Trephina Gorge was a spectacular place to stop. We hiked a lot, climbed down disused gold mines, went 4WDing and saw ancient rock carvings. Oli panned for gold, found a speck, then promptly lost it when he was distracted by some new sort of purple crowned orange banded zebra rock pigeon flying overhead. Priorities!!

We also met a family of six from Bendigo. They are travelling for three months up through the middle and down the east coast in a very dodgy, overloaded looking minivan. Gus is a big unit, kind of like a jolly pink giant. I invited him and his son Harry to come with Ned, Ivy and me on an 11k walk along the ridge line to a waterhole accessible only by 4WD. The plan was for Sara and Oli to pick us up there after a spot of birdwatching. Ned and Ivy chewed that bloke’s ear off the whole 11k. When we met up with Sara and Oli at the end of the walk, Oli took over. Gus now knows more about lizards, spiders, waterslides and birds than he ever thought possible. He did jump back into that minivan pretty smartly when we dropped them back…

Caterpillar dreaming rock art, N'Dhala Gorge

Returning then to Alice and the jumping pillows. The Henley-on-Todd regatta is on tomorrow, and there’s the pancake breakfast on Sunday. The park record is fourteen. Oli and Ned are talking up their chances, but I think if I put in a big early morning run I can take them. Only problem I forsee is that big Pete Leonard has just pulled in opposite us and he looks hungry. We could be here a while.

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Kakadu du du, Push pandanus shake the tree

Black Lace was a British pop band from the eighties who have succeeded in hijacking a large portion of my brain with the lyrics to several of their party anthems. If we’d actually met either of the two mullet headed stone washed fools who wrote the hit  Agadoo, I’m sure the kids and Sara would have smashed their heads in with a pandanus tree! No such luck, and anyway, the killing of anything in Kakadu be it cane toads or ageing one hit wonders is frowned upon.

Jumping croc

Kakadu National Park was one of the first big National Parks created in Australia to successfully include local indigenous people in its management. The result is that for the first time, we really have a good sense of the connection that they had and in fact, still have with the land. There are guided walks, talks, and activities on every day throughout the park. We were able to co-ordinate our visit with these events, and we trooped all over the place following the rangers around.

Many people had told us to Kakadon’t. Maybe they didn’t like the fact that it was so big requiring a lot of driving, the fact that you often have to pay to see the Kakadu the brochures represent, or maybe it was just the mosquitoes. Either way, we’re glad we Kakadid. We had six nights in there. We took the Disco through our deepest water crossing yet with the croc infested river coming up over the tyres. The waterfalls on the other side were worth it though, even if I couldn’t convince myself to swim the 100 metres across the plunge pool.

Dead cane toad with green ants

We all learnt how to weave using leaves from the pandanus tree, and the kids and Sara are still wearing their creations. We went over into Arnhem Land to the Injalka Art Centre and purchased a basket and a screen print of barramundi. We saw crocs basking in the river, and Oli bagged several new birds as well as confusing several rangers. Brett the six and a half foot, skinny ranga ranger was one of these. Brett had grown up in the area which made his talks even more special. He was able to talk about the local people and their history based not just on a seasonal orientation program, but his own experience. His reading of local man, Bill Neidjie’s writing at sunset at Ubirr, as we looked over an area that has been lived in for 50,000 years, was unexpected and challenging yet welcome.

Jim Jim Falls

Kakadu is a place where you should find a quiet spot, linger, look, listen and learn. We did plenty of the learning, but not enough lingering. It’s been that way a bit lately as we surge past the halfway point and into the final 4 months of this trip. As always happens, something pops up to change our perspective.

Twin Falls

The road into Gunlom at the southern end of Kakadu is a little rough, but nothing compared to places we have taken Kimmy. Unfortunately for her, it was a bridge too far. I opened the caravan door at Pine Creek to find my way blocked by the fridge which had loosened itself from its tenuous moorings and fallen against the stove. Sara and I muscled it back into place, applied gorilla tape to hold it there, and headed into Katherine.

Rock painting of white man, hands in pockets & shoes

Terry the mobile auto electrician, ex pastry chef, ex road train driver, and ex apprentice of the year two years running at the age of 47 showed up the next day. He reconnected the 12V. The fridge seemed to be working well enough, so we relaxed a bit. No damage to us other than inconvenience. I took my sorrows to the local country club and watched the Hawks go down to the Cats again in a thriller with Bill and Anne from Gisbourne. Cats supporters but still good people.

Not far away, in Katherine Gorge, the Leonards had made a stop. Pete has become our local travelling handyman, so we pulled in behind them. Pete and I attached the fridge firmly and in accordance with the installation instructions which hadn’t been done before. Two beers and the trials were behind us which emphasised how they really weren’t enough of an issue to get too caught up on, especially when people at home close to us are going through much tougher times right now.



Ned and me swimming at top of Gunlom Falls

We had said goodbye to the Leonards outside of Darwin, but were not surprised to see them again. Ivy in particular has been rapt to have Summer to play with. We all went canoeing on Katherine Gorge yesterday. Sara and I ended up towing the two girls behind us for 5k as we paddled to get back before the four o’clock deadline so that we wouldn’t lose our $50 deposit. No tension in that boat at all… I’ll put this on the record now: we will never canoe with our children again until they are old enough to propel themselves!

Ivy jumping at Ubirr

We’ll make our way down to the centre from here, which means… “In 24 hours we’ll be driving the van to Alice!!!” My sincerest apologies, but there will be more tangled lyrics to come.

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Hello Again, Farewell Again

If a town decides to advertise itself by being the “Beer n’ Croc” capital of Australia, you might not expect too much of it, apart from beer and crocs. Darwin is that place. We were swamped by the humidity on arrival, then welcomed by Jo and Pete’s air conditioning. And that’s pretty much how it played out over the next week; periods of calm sweltering, followed by periods of hectic activity.

Kids and baby croc

Because it is the croc capital of Australia, Darwin has a number of free water parks. We went to a wave pool, a speed slide pool, and a water slide pool. The speed slide was best, although Pete Leonard was unbeatable due only to physics, and definitely not because of any shortage of skill on my part… The reliability of the weather at this time of year means that almost everything is done outside. We ate laksa and pawpaw salad under the stars at the Mindil markets, and watched “The Lorax” with herbal types who frowned as we applied Aeroguard at the open air cinema. Maybe they were repelling the sand flies with their karmic wholesomeness.

Gerda, kids and Kev in Litchfield

Speaking of karmic wholesomeness, Kevin and Gerda, good friends from Melbourne had been able to junket their way to Darwin at the same time. We left three ecstatic kids in the van watching DVD’s brought back from Bali by the Leonards, and taxied into the Darwin Sailing Club for our first proper night out since we’d left. Barramundi, beef, beer, and bullshit followed in huge quantities. It was a brilliant night, and so good to hear Kevin’s stories, having not heard them for six months. The more things change etc.

Kevin decided against coming out to watch the Demons play Port the next day. His reasoning proved prophetic. “I can watch two crap teams play each other any time I want to in Melbourne.” Such an ordinary game of footy. The highlight for me ended up being a conversation I had with a drunk local who also barracked for Hawthorn. It went pretty much along the lines of “Hawks are hot, Pies are cold, Hawks are hot, Pies are cold, Hawks are hot…” and was repeated  whenever things became truly boring on the field i.e. often. I did meet an interesting bloke called Chris who had played for Melbourne in the sixties, and whilst working in communities and with asylum seekers now, had also published Allison Lester’s epic children’s book “Are We There Yet?” about a family who drove around Australia. Funny how things come together.

How the kids spent their $20 on icecream

We chose a Sunday, the last day of the school holidays to go to Litchfield National Park with Kev and Gerda. Crowded out by cavorting locals who were happy to sit, swim, and swill in the croc free water, the place struggled to hold on to its beauty. I’d love to go back if I could have the place to myself a bit, without the vomit and the beer cans and the buses. A bad experience, sure, but tempered by the company, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and the fact that Litchfield is spectacular. Next time we’ll organise ourselves a little better, and work out how to escape the crowds.

Matt, Ned, Zach and 3 soon to be deceased cane toads

Darwin ended with a visit to the aviation museum. I’d spoken with Dad earlier who’d reminded me that Mum’s uncle Archie had died during the initial bombing of Darwin. That brought things home to the boys a little more as they read about the war and the extent that Darwin was involved in it all. We’ll have to visit the Tindal RAAF base in Katherine named after him when we get there.







Oli and Ivy dancing



In the meantime, we had an important event looming. Nick Linton had accepted a job in Broome and they were about to do a 180 degree turn to head back there to live. We moved camp to outside of Darwin near Berry Springs in order to farewell them properly. One night turned rapidly into three as they so often have. We had more goodbyes than Nellie Melba, but the final hurrah came on the Thursday. Lintons, Leonards, and Backsons all together for the final? time of the trip. A concert of sorts was held to mark the occasion. Jo and I wrote a poem, Oli MC’d and danced a duet with Ivy, Sara spoke, Rosie did charades with Nick and Josh who spoke also, Zach wrestled a croc, Matt and Pete held a trivia contest, and Ned wrote a short speech. So brave of him to stand in front of everyone and thank them for “…giving us Andersons such a good time”, because in the end, that’s what they’ve done. Good luck Linton’s, we are so lucky you stopped to say hello.



Nick & Rosie charading



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