Getting social at sunset

Sunset from Darwin Ski Club

Darwin. What an odd little place. So much to like: 33 degrees everyday, 95% per cent humidity. Palm trees, spectacular sunsets, and a host of social activities devised to get maximum value out of those sunsets. 

 

SJ enjoying the sunset and a beer at Darwin Ski Club

Darwin (water) Ski Club is one of the best although it's little more than a tin-shed bar and a bunch of plastic garden chairs with a spectacular vista through palm trees. It starts slow on a Saturday afternoon, with a few people scattered across the lawn. Gradually the tables fill and the sun slides towards the horizon, lingers a little, then dips into the sea turning the sky a mesmerising shade of pink.

Bre gets into the sunset at Mindle Beach

Thursday and Sunday evenings sees the social scene shift a little closer to town to Mindle Beach markets, with juice stalls, philipino and chinese food and a chilled out vibe. Pack an esky and some wine if you can because when the market crowd moves to the beach you're going to want a cold glass of sauvignon blanc with your sunset.

Mindle Beach

But there's also a lot not to like about Darwin - bad service, bad food, and tacky tourist sights like crocosaurus cove with its lame cage of death and pools filled with bored and lethargic monster crocs. On Saturday nights, it's carnage on Mitchell Street - made even more horrendous this weekend by the influx of army dudes from Timor and the hordes of girls looking for their ticket outta town.

Bre clowning around at Crocosaurus Cove

Lucky for us, we don't have to score an army dude to get out of dodge. We have our car, our tent, some supplies and our driving music, and tomorrow Breanna, SJ and I head to Kakadu.

SJs trying to be brave about the bugs, the crocs, the snakes and the other animals she's convinced are after her English blood. The fact that she's agreed to camp shows she's got gumption. The fact that she's agreed to sleep on the ground, instead of splurging on a camp bed or mattress, suggests she's going slightly mad in her old age. If Carl was here, he'd definitely put a stop to my crazy ideas. But he's not, so it's game on. Bring it.

A really bored crocodile at Crocosaurus Cove. Skip this place - there are plenty of opportunities to see crocs in the wild!

Left field in the top end: Darwin gets random

Hands down, the best things about travelling are always the most random. Usually it's random encounters with crazy people - and there are a lot of them out there - but really it could be anything that comes from a little left field.

Like chatting for a couple of hours over a glass of chardy with the lady next to you on the plane - a real Kath and Kim character whose travel credentials put me to shame. She makes a point of trying to connect with the local people on every trip, even in a small way. She's got a keen eye for cultural differences, picking up on a recent trip to Myanmar how farmers work together in the fields and lamenting the loss of community in Australia where people work alone in the fields driven by money. Someone who seems genuinely happy to have her eyes opened to the injustices suffered by the people of Myanmar and keeps learning more about the country long after she returns home to Sydney.

Like the lady at the shuttle bus counter at Darwin Airport with her big curly grey hair, who calls me 'pet' in a disconcertingly manly Aussie bogan accent.

Like the shuttle bus driver who, at 1am, didn't think it important to acknowledge our existence but to whom we felt compelled to thank profusely in a desperate bid to elicit a response.

Like arriving at your hotel at 2am to find that your room has been given to someone else because of a burst water main so the manager has arranged for you to spend the night at a more expensive resort. Then, as he drives you there, points out the most salubrious watering holes in the top end, and a couple of strip joints, leaving you wondering what message you're sending to the locals: is it your melbourne clothes? The glasses? Do they think we need to loosen up?

Like being asked if it's your first time in Australia, after you've handed over an aussie drivers licence at the hotel reception.

Like giving bed-making lessons to the porter who made up the pull out bed with no sheet or pillowcases, and who couldn't tell the difference between a doona and a sheet because his mum makes his bed for him.

But best of all, it's waking up in a new city, sitting on your balcony with the sun shining, looking at the aqua water stretching for miles in every direction and wondering what you should do first today: swim or breakfast, breakfast or swim?

Yep, I agree. A swim, then breakfast. Time to get Sarah-Jane out of bed. Time to check out the top end.

"I knew you wouldn't miss the fifty year storm, Bodhi"

"Look at it! It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, man! Let me go out there and let me get one wave, just one wave before you take me in. I mean, come on man, where I am I gonna go? Cliffs on both sides! I'm not gonna paddle my way to New Zealand! Come on, compadre. Come on!"

Let's just say, lucky Bodhi didn't try to paddle to NZ from Bells Beach. It would've taken him a bloody long time.

Carl rocks Bells Beach ADT-style

Bells beach is a compulsory stop along the Great Ocean Road, but it wasn't on the Point Break itinerary. Not really. We checked the movie and our Bells Beach looks nothing like their Bells Beach. SJ feels robbed ... until we deliver her a bunch of cuddly koalas in the wild, including this one with a monster koala booger. Awwwww.

How much can a koala bear?