June 2004

Week 62: Monday 31st May to Sunday 6th June

The next week followed a very similar pattern, the highlight of the working week being Matt’s chilli on the Monday, a pool comp on the Tuesday. Fran and Matt had days off on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, so they went to the beach and on a spectacular river cruise and to the Botanical Gardens which is home to the Bert Hinkler Museum. Bert Hinkler is Bundaberg’s favourite son a famous aviator who was the first man to make a solo flight from England to Australia in 1923. He died tragically when his plane crashed over the Italian Alps in 1933 on a return flight to Australia. The Museum is housed in Bert’s English home which was transported brick by brick from Southampton to Bundaberg.

Saturday was the monthly hostel BBQ which at $5 for pretty much all you can eat and a couple of beers and free wine isn’t too bad at all. Sunday, we played football again and in the evening we went out to Charlie’s Nite Spot to celebrate Aidan’s birthday. As well as Four on Tour and Aidan, there was also Luke and Ashley, a couple of room mates who we got on well with and Connor a funny Kiwi who is a member of a strange gang that bashes vegetables over their heads! Charlie’s wasn’t the best place to celebrate a birthday and eventually we left to have a few beers on the balcony back at the hostel.

Our first working experience on the road had come to an end, thankfully, and even though the work was bad and the money average, we’d made some good new friends and at the same time managed to bump into a couple of familiar faces including Chris Rogers and Jen and incredibly Leanne whom we stayed with in Melbourne for the Grand Prix weekend, shared a dorm with in Sydney and went out on the town with in Brisbane. She hated the job so much that she got her job back on the fair in China and planned going back there for 2 months. So thankyou Bundaberg for your over-sweet rum, masses of sugar and terrible farm work, please give our regards to Brain.

Week 63: Monday 7th to Sunday 13th June

After two weeks hard work the time had finally come to leave Bundy and have some fun with our hard earned dollars. We stopped off at Town of 1770, so called because Captain Cook had run out of decent names and simply named it after the year he saw it. This place is great for kicking back and relaxing on the beach, not much goes on and it seems to be very laid back. We had a walk around the headland before stopping off for a sandwich and carrying on to Rockhampton. We arrived in Rockhampton in the early evening and checked into the riverside caravan park before making our way to town to sample what Rockhampton is famous for. Well maybe not famous, but it is the beef capital of Queensland and we decided to go and find somewhere to eat some meat. We had a great meal, the steak was cooked to perfection and we went away a few pounds heavier. We had an early night that night, probably due to us being so used to early nights and early starts.

We rose early on Tuesday and before we left Rocky we went to see the site of the Tropic of Capricorn. We spent far too long hopping from temperate zone to tropical zone and took the obligatory photos; we even got a free certificate as we had posed in a publicity shoot for the tourist centre. After farting about there we set off on the long journey to Airlie Beach. Felix struggled a little on this trip, he coughed and spluttered but we nursed him to Airlie where he could rest for a few days while we went around the Whitsunday islands. We arrived fairly late in the evening and found a really nice caravan park just outside the town and settled in. Once we were sorted we walked into town and had some food before checking out a few of the bars. We knew straight away this was going to be a lively place as the main street was lined with bars and clubs, no wonder this is a popular destination for backpackers.

The main reason we were stopping in Airlie, apart from the partying was to go and sail around the Whitsunday Islands. Yet again Captain Cook used his imagination to the full and named this group of 74 islands after the day he found them. Unfortunately for him he forgot to take into account that he had crossed the International Date Line and it was in fact Monday, the name stuck all the same. We went out in search of a vessel to sail us around the islands, our main aim was to get the cheapest one and possibly go ourselves and camp on the islands. We quickly found out that camping was out of the question, you need permits and only certain carriers will take you blah blah blah. The companies with yachts seem to have a monopoly on the whole Whitsunday experience and you will almost certainly have to charter a vessel of some sort to get the best out of the islands. We wandered around going from booking office to booking office and put our bargaining skills to full use. We eventually managed to get a pretty good deal the included a 3 day 2 nights sail around the islands, a free dive, all the food, free Internet and a free night accommodation when we returned from the trip. We booked it for the following day so we were pretty pleased to have got that done and to be leaving so soon. We returned to the campsite for a few games of tennis before heading out to town for a few more drinks.

On Thursday we checked out of the van park and locked our stuff away at Magnums hostel, the place we had booked with. We hurriedly had some food and bought some beer for the trip, we thought that as it was going to be a ‘party boat’ 30 cans each would do us. 4pm came and we boarded our vessel, there were 22 of us altogether and we were soon on the deck drinking and getting to know our fellow passengers. We sailed towards the islands, in particular Hayman island, which was to be our overnight stop. We were quite surprised at how rough the water was, it wasn’t terrible but enough to unsettle a few of the passengers stomachs. We arrived at our destination after a pleasant journey passing islands covered in pine trees with white sand beaches and coral fringes. Soon after we were tucking into our evening meal of steak and salad, considering the space constraints and the number of people eating, the food was great. As the sun went down and the wind settled we carried on drinking and chatting away. Unfortunately there were a lot of couples on the boat and they tended to keep to themselves and go to bed early, so there wasn’t really a party atmosphere. We still made the most of it and had a laugh with the others that stayed up.

We were up early and fed well again in the morning. We then had to pull on our stinger suits (like wet suits, used to stop you from being killed by jellyfish) before being ferried over to the beach on Hayman Island. There we snorkelled around the amazing coral garden, exploring the amazing colours and shapes of the coral. There were plenty of fish about too, all shapes and sizes and some pretty tame. This was also the site for the free dive and so in groups of four we were introduced to the equipment and taken on a 20 minute dive about 5 metres below the surface. Not bad for free but you know that they are just trying to give you a taste so you want to do more and pay for it. We got back to the yacht and were soon tucking into lunch as we sailed on to our next stop. Along the way we saw more of the scenery that has made these islands so popular, they really are beautiful and seem pretty unspoilt. We stopped off at another island and again hopped off to do some more snorkelling while a few others did an extra dive. We moved on again from there and stopped off just as the light was dying, we would stop here the night unless it got too rough. At about 8pm Matt and Liam went off with a few others to do a night dive, this was only open to qualified divers and the two were looking forward to the different experience. They came back and told us of the weird looking fish they saw that only come out at night and the way that the colours are so different under torchlight. Soon after we again were fed a good meal and followed that by more beer and socialising, even though a majority of the people had gone to bed.

Saturday saw us rise early and get ferried straight to Whitsunday Island, the largest and most famous due to its magnificent Whitehaven beach and amazing sand shifting river mouth. We relaxed on the fine white sands admiring the view and as the tide went out the inlet changed shape and colour giving a fantastic fluid turquoise appearance. After a couple of hours we were back on the yacht and headed back to the mainland. We arrived back at the marina content with our experience and left with over half the 150 beers we went on with, ah well, we can get through them another time! We checked into our free room at Magnums and chilled out on the balcony with the Dutch guys in our room. Later that night we met up with a few of the guys that were on our yacht and had a few beers before a spot of culture in the form of a wet t-shirt competition. We continued the night in a few other bars, had a boogie and managed to catch the opening game of the European Championships in Portugal.

We set off from Airlie on Sunday in the direction of Townsville in the hope of finding somewhere that would show the England game against France. There was nowhere in Townsville so we made a call to our mate Chris Rogers who was in Cardwell and checked if we could watch it with him. We then made a beeline for the tiny town of Cardwell and met up with Chris. We found a place to sleep, relaxed for a while and then went to the hostel that Chris was staying. There were quite a few people staying up for the match, which started at quarter to five in the morning, so the atmosphere was pretty good. The game went well for England and we were one nil up for a long time, we were all pretty pleased that we were going to win our opener. But as you may know it all went pear shaped, David Beckham missed a penalty to tie up the game at two nil and then against all odds France scored two goals in the dying minutes. Unbelievable, how could we let that happen, we had it. We were gutted; the only thing we wanted to do was get out of Cardwell and forget about it. What a nightmare.

Week 64: Monday 14th to Sunday 20th June

At 7am on Monday morning we left Chris at Cardwell Backpackers feeling exhausted and absolutely gutted after the gut-wrenching game that we had just witnessed. On the way back to the campsite we stopped off briefly at a servo and found some solace in a bacon and egg sandwich. We packed up and tried to skulk off as inconspicuously as possible then drove off towards Mission Beach. We found a pleasant council-run campsite right on the beach. The sky was overcast and grey, as if to mirror our glum moods. By the time we had set up the tents it was around midday and we all felt like a couple of hour’s kip. We all fell straight to sleep, knackered from the previous night’s mix of excitement and misery. Apart from Rich and Fran, who woke up for an hour or two and took a stroll into town for a bite to eat, we somehow managed to sleep right through the afternoon, evening and night, achieving a staggering and unprecedented 17 hour sleepathon!

We were determined to make the most of Tuesday after Monday’s laze-fest so after an early breakfast we headed off for a bush walk. We drove to one end of a walking trail where Phil, Rich and Fran started the walk. Matt and Liam then drove to the other end, parked the car and set off. The two groups passed roughly in the middle and when Phil Rich and Fran finished they picked up Felix and drove back to where they had started to pick up the other two. An ingenious and successful plan! The walk itself was very pleasant and we were lucky enough to spot a Cassowary, a huge Ostrich-like bird that is native to the Tablelands of North-East Australia and is the regions most celebrated tourist attraction. We were well prepared for the sighting as we had been briefed in advance by many a kind local. The drill is as follows – don’t turn your back on the bird, keep eye-contact and slowly walk backwards putting a large object, such as a tree, between it and you. If you do this, it should leave you alone and not attack you with its razor sharp claws. The lady in the tourist information office told us that they don’t attack per-se, they’re just inquisitive and like to place a claw over your shoulder, but we decided not to take any risks! We then went on another walk up to a lookout that provided a good view to the nearby Dunk Island and then returned to the beach for an afternoon game of ‘Slasher’. We met a Danish family and the kids joined in our game, easily coping with Richard’s spin-bowling. We had seen signs around town for an ‘all-you-can-eat’ Mexican at a place called Scottie’s and thought we’d give it a go. When we arrived, there was only a small amount of chilli left and the replacement beef curry was of very poor quality. What’s more, the tacos were merely stale crisps and the unsympathetic staff even charged to overcharge us for our beers! We left in disappointment and disgust. We found another, much more welcoming place with a dartboard, and when the treble twenty’s and shanghai’s started flying in we soon forgot about our meagre meal. We were pleasantly surprised to see the Dutchies, Florja and Jo who were planning on staying in Mission Beach for a while to work. We finished the evening off back on the beach, sharing a couple of our VB’s that were left over from the Whitsunday’s.

We woke up early, packed up and drove to the Palmerston Highway. We stopped at a few places along the way to do some short walks and see some waterfalls. We found the Park Ranger and he pointed us in the direction of a basic camp rea where we could stay. The site was in a peaceful spot off the road, with just a couple of wooden tables and a bush toilet. We went on a trek to another spectacular waterfall and swam across the pool to bathe under the cascading waters. We had to hurry back to came as the night was closing in. Once back, we had a camp dinner then feel asleep to the strange sounds of the many creatures that were lurking about the tent.

We carried on our journey along the scenic Palmerston Highway, stopping to see yet more waterfalls. You might think that we would get bored at looking at water falling over rocks but that is not the case. Each waterfall has its own character and is magnificent in its own right. Near the small town of Millaa Millaa (pop 320) there is a 16km waterfall circuit that is well worth the drive. One of the falls was used in the classic Timotei advert – the one with the Scandinavian Blonde and the bird. Carrying on at a leisurely pace, we stopped at Malanda, a pretty town that is a dairy centre and claims to have the longest milk run in Australia. We’re not saying that this isn’t true, who would we be to dispute it, but Australia certainly seems to have a penchant for spurious facts that boast of heaven and earth so you learn to take all ‘facts’ with a relative pinch of salt. We decide against the dairy tour but did marvel at an enormous tapestry that was being woven by the Women’s Aviation Society called Aviatrix. We were honoured to be invited to participate in the weaving and although we were all nervous at first we soon got the hang. Once finished (and it will take quite some time) the tapestry will be hung in a museum in Alice Springs. Previous works by the group have been to shown all over Australia including Canberra. Matt, Rich, Phil and Fran treated themselves to delicious melts in the dairy restaurant while Liam opted for a traditional portion of Fish and Chips. We met a couple who were originally from Birmingham, Erdington to be precise and had a good chat about, well, Brum of course. They were touring around Australia, living the life of riley for a few years on the proceeds raised from the sale of there house, and who can blame them? It was back to nature in the afternoon with a visit to see a giant red ceder, a colossus tree that somehow managed to survive the logger’s saw in a forest that was once populated with thousands of equally tall trees. Next stop was Lake Eacham, a pristine crater lake where we saw a myriad of turtles swimming happily and joined them for a dip in the twinkling drink. It was time to leave the Tablelands, a place where we could have quite happily spent weeks and still had more to see. Our whistle-stop tour of this area full of natural wonder had been very enjoyable nonetheless and the drive to Cairns was a picturesque journey along mountain paths with Faithless providing the soundtrack on the car stereo. Once in Cairns we had to make a decision about whether to stay in a campsite or in a hostel and to confuse the issue England were due to paly there second group game, against Switzerland in the Euro Championship at 2.45 am the following morning. In a moment of madness, or perhaps inspiration, we decided not to do nothing about accommodation and just head to the pub and wait for the footy, with the option of sleeping in the car after the game. And so, our first visit to the infamous ‘Woolshed’ began. We were rather confused at first because everyone in the pub seemed to be Backpackers eating very tasty and filling looking food – combination that is rarely seen! All was to become clear over the coming days. We drank slowly in the realisation that it was going to be a long night. As the evening wore on we bumped into various old friend including Sam and Dave (Sydney) and Aidan and Ashley (Bundaberg).

Anticipation is an understatement. The pub got busier and busier; nationalities from around the world formed tribal gangs and staked their territories. Swiss and English laughed and joked and discussed the evening’s possible outcomes. People got confused by the similar colours of the two teams in question, one girl actually commented on how many ‘red and white Swiss banners’ were flying, utterly unaware that it was the St George’s Crosses’ that she was looking at! No need to explain the game, you know what happened. When each of our goals hit the back of net, the Woolshed exploded in orgasmic ecstasy, beer flew through the air drenching everyone within 4m of the big screen. Songs and banter were exchanged, all in good spirit and nature. It was a proud night to be English. After the game we were all exhausted but it was too early to check in anywhere so the five of us piled into Felix for 40 winks. We checked out a backpacker unfriendly campsite, had a Maccy D’s brekkie then checked into YHA on the Esplanade, a hostel that looks out Cairns’ man-made lagoon. We spent the rest of the day mostly sleeping, although we did manage to catch a few ours of sunlight, catching up with the lads around the lagoon (that makes up for Cairns’ lack of a decent beach) and ogling the topless beauties that adorn the area around the pool. In the evening we got our free meal at the Woolshed and socialised. All hostels in Cairns’ provide a meal ticket for one place or another that can be upgraded to a bigger and better meal for just a few dollars.

Oh what a lazy day! Down by the lagoon playing Poker for matches with our door mate, a friendly Welsh chappy named Owain. We caught up with our emails and individually explored the criss-cross streets of our new home. It was another trip to the Woolshed that evening.

It was more of the same on Sunday; enjoying the laid-back Cairns’ life. Rich, Liam and Owain went to the cinema to see Shrek 2. Matt and Phil met up with Mel and Ali (Canadain) and Dan (Essex lad) who we knew from the Whitsundays for an evening’s entertainment at Rattle and Hum.

Week 65: Monday 21st to Sunday 27th June

The afternoon was spent relaxing by the lagoon waiting for the football to start later that evening. We watched Supersize Me - a documentary film about the dangers of McDonald's food before moving onto the Woolshed where Matt decided to enter the Mr Backpacker event, Cairns search for the best looking hunk of a man in town. He stripped to his shorts, danced on the tables and shook his stuff in a very sexy way, which left the others if he had previously been employed by the Chippendale's. Somehow he was edged out into 5th place (of 8) but he had built up a loyal following of fans who wanted to know if he would be touring with the 'Dreamboys' strip show later that season. After that tom-foolery it was over to Billabong where Ashley and Luke were staying to watch England thump Croatia 4-1 in the final group game to set up a mouth watering clash against Portugal on Thursday. This also meant we would be hanging around in Cairns until then. Lots of time to explore the ummm....Woolshed and the lagoon.

Due to the lateness of the footy, most of the day was spent asleep, but later we bumped into the Canadians who we had bought Felix off.

Wednesday was a far more productive day as Rich and Fran went horse riding while Liam and Matt went diving on the Great Barrier reef. Not to be outdone, Phil went go-karting with Owain and had a didgeridoo lesson. We all met up that evening for drinks in PJ's (which incidentally had some great entertainment in the form of dancing girls on the bar) and then yes the Woolshed.

If things went well we would be in Cairns for a while, if not this would be our last day. England Portugal was on in the early hours and if we lost we would move onto the Northern Territory, if we won, well who knows. Phil convinced everyone that another trip to the karting was in order and promptly thrashed everyone as he raced around th track like Stirling Moss. The rest of the day was spent relaxing waiting for the football at 4am. All ready to go at 4 the game kicked off with everyone huddled around the small screen at Billabong. What happened next we all know and we don't need to describe again here. All that's left to say is that Sol's goal should have been allowed, penalties and England don't mix and Four on Tour were off to the Northern Territory.

We waved goodbye to Fran, Aiden, Ash and Luke and set about getting some miles under our belts. We started along the 'Savannah Highway' and landed in Georgtown when it started to get dark, which was time to stop and set up camp. Georgetown is a small town of little interest. The town consists of the main highway and a bout 5 or 6 small streets branching off the sides. Amenities include 4 petrol stations a couple of caravan parks and a pub where we went for a few beers and a game of darts. The road between Cairns and Cloncurry is not the most scenic and is very narrow, so much so that for two cars to pass both need to leave the bitumen and stray onto the grit on the shoulders. The small towns dotted along the way have populations of a couple of hundred but warrant significant importance on any map due to the lack of anything else. The other main talking point on the roads are the road trains. These huge articulated trucks are 3 trailers and 50 metres long and when one is coming your way at 100kph you get out of its way. For these towns and many industries there vehicles are lifelines that keep the community together. Georgetown is a depot for some road trains and our night in the pub was regularly disturbed by one pulling in around the corner. Some of the 'towns' you pass you can honestly miss if you look away for a few seconds.

One we didn't miss, but probably wished we did was Normanton. After leaving early we made Normanton for lunch. We ventured into the local supermarket to find a very limited range of food. It seems that getting fresh food to these places is too much like hard work, so processed, frozen and tinned food is the order of the day. We sat down by the side of the car and tucked into a lunch of processed chicken roll and stale white bread. We swiftly moved on.

In 1860 th Victorian state government decided that it was time to see was going on up north. Robert Burke and William Wills headed and expedition to cross from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria in the far north. It was typical Anglo Saxon pioneering stuff, big moustaches and pipes were in abundance and it wasn't long before things started going wrong. Burke was too impatient and kept racing ahead without supplies. A small team kept camp about 3/4 of the way whilst 4 of them rushed to the site of present day Normanton. When they got there they were disappointed (probably something to do with the processed chicken) with what they saw and began to turn back. Months later they had eaten their horses, missed their colleges by one day at the base camp and Burke even killed one of the others for stealing flour. The upshot of all this was all of them died except a chap called King and the whole expedition was a waste of time. Nowadays between Normanton and Cloncurry there is the famous Burke & Wills roadhouse where you can have a beer and read all about their grizzly demise, which is a welcome break from the monotony of the journey. Still, after reading about their trip you can handle sitting in a Ford Falcon for a few hours. By nightfall we had hit Cloncurry, which was to be our last stay in Queensland. We set up camp and headed to the local where we were astonished to find that one of the barmaids had a distinct Brummie twang to her accent. We moved onto a more lively place later which had a live band. We mingled with the locals and drank XXXX reasonably late into the night as we said goodbye to Queensland.

We left the 'curry (as the locals call it) early in the morning heading West to Mount Isa and the Northern Territory border. Not everybody knows this but Mount Isa is in fact the largest city in the world. New York, London, Paris, Rome have nothing on this place, which was founded on the back of mineral deposits such as Zinc, Silver, Lead and Copper. With a population of just 18,500 it's its administrative boundaries that make it the largest city in terms of area. It stretches half way to Cloncurry and there isn't a lot in there. Just goes to show size doesn't count. We had breakfast there and waved at the huge sign welcoming us with a big photo of Greg Norman, Mount Isa's most famous son, smiling down at us. Just after lunch we arrived at the Northern Territory border where we spent far too long posing for photos in front of the sign. There's not much to say of the first few hundred kms, except the roads are in excellent condition, the first point of interest being the Barkly Homestead roadhouse. With plenty of space around we decided to camp out in a picnic area off the side of the road (a common practice out here) but first we needed some food. The restaurant was very expensive to say the least and the range of groceries severely limited. To cut a long story short we went to bed (it was freezing) after a fantastic meal of 'Spam Bolognese', which incredibly wasn't too bad.

Week 66: Monday 28th to Wednesday 30th June

After a rather uncomfortable night on the roadside, we were relieved to get up and go. It took us almost until Tennent creek before we warmed up properly, and it was still pretty chilly outside. We set up our tent at the Travellers Rest backpackers in town, before heading straight out to find some breakfast. As usual we sought out the tourist information to ask about what we should see and do. The gentleman at the office-who looked scarily like Ned Flanders from the Simpsons- advised us to check out the telegraph station and the pebbles before a trip to the Devils Marbles. You may wonder how interesting a Telegraph Station may be, but it was interesting to find out about some of the Australian history (not something you get much of over here!). It described the early years of the settlement in the centre of the country and the development of the fledgling communications system. It was quite a feat to set up a communications line down the centre of the country and it soon speeded up news coming from mother England. This hive of activity in the area meant many small settlements cropped up, just like the Tennent Creek to help operate and maintain this soon to become vital telegraph line. Once we had finished there we drove to the Pebbles, a smaller version of the Devils marbles, to which we were going to make our way next. Before we took in the sights of the rounded boulders of the Devils Marbles, we quickly dropped in at a place called Wycliffe Wells. This place was no more than a petrol station and a van park- known nationally as the UFO spotting capital of Australia. They have really played on this fact and there are countless UFO and alien paraphernalia about the place. There wasn’t much else and was barely worth the effort, but it was a good laugh all the same. Once at the marbles we were pleased to see that they were just as good as the hype. Maybe not as many perfectly rounded rocks as expected but still an amazing scene from thousands of years of rock breaking into the blocks on the surface and wind and rain eroding the exposed edges, collections of round boulders have formed. Some are rounder than others and some are as big as seven or eight metres high. That, coupled with the soft tones and shadows created by the lowering sun made for a photo feast.

We made the most of the free breakfast in the morning before filling Felix up and once again driving north. Our next stop was to be Daly Waters and on the way we stopped at a curious attraction- if you can call it that. It was a rock that resembles a certain British WW11 Prime Minister. To be frank it was a rock that had an opening for a stick, which in turn looked like a bloke puffing a cigar. Rather tenuous but of course it could only be the one and only Sir Winston Churchill. We finally got to DW by mid-afternoon, and headed straight for the pub. This is no ordinary pub, it happens to be the oldest pub in the Northern Territories, and is crammed full of allsorts of bits and bobs left by visitors. It made its name when Qantas started using it as a stopover for International flights. All the passengers and pilots sank a few and started leaving things like underwear, money, id cards etc. from all the different countries of the world. It doesn’t seem to have changed much and it’s easy to spend a while inspecting all the things stuck to the bar from all over the place. We had heard that there had been a fire recently at the pub, and when we arrived we could see the damage done. It wasn’t too bad but could have been a lot less had the local bush-fighter been a little more neighbourly. A newspaper clipping at the pub told of how the fire started from a smouldering fireplace and when it was noticed the landlords daughter ran to the local bush-fighter for help. Once there she asked for help and all he said was; “the keys are in the truck, drive it yourself.’ The 19 year old daughter had to run back, as she couldn’t drive, and thankfully the fire was put out, but not before 15,000ausd worth of damage was sustained. When interviewed by the press Mr. Stevenson (the fireman) said he was only trained in bush fire-fighting. He went on to say that he wouldn’t help them anyway, because they’re a mob of bastards! So much for community spirit-eh? After some food we returned to the bar and carried on drinking, chatted to the other guests from the caravan park and played pool with a rather drunk Norwegian, whom we would get to see later and remind her of her drunken antics.

Once we had recovered and packed we made a beeline for the thermal pools of Mataranka. They were much needed after one of the coldest nights endured in our tent. The pools were nice and warm and clear, but the walk up to them was complicated by the fact that you had to cover your head to avoid droppings from the fruit bat colony overhead. From Mataranka we went direct to Katherine, picked up some provisions and drove to the Gorge national park. We decided it would be nicer to stay in the park, than the town and we were right. The park was nice and our site had wallabies hopping about, sometimes getting arms length away from us. We met the group of people who we drank with the previous evening in Daly Waters and sat up late chatting away.

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