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.

H