Not Pretty Enough (Kununurra to Katherine, Nitmiluk National Park and Kakadu, WA)

For the sake of brevity, my dear reader, I am going to combine two days into one entry. Brevity and the fact that there was nothing much to report. Breakfast in Kununurra was at 6am. I retired, hoping never to hear an alarm again and I've heard more alarms, mine and others, in the last couple of weeks than I've heard in the three years. And that's not a good thing.

The bonus today is that we are on the Victoria Highway and it is paved. Smooth sailing. Comparatively.

The first stop of the day was at Timber Creek for brunch. Of most interest was an electricity outage being experienced by the Roadhouse. Aside from the lack of light in the shop, the fuel pumps had stopped working as did the cash registers. It didn't take long to have the power restored but it created a very large backlog/traffic jam of cars attempting to refuel.

It was interesting watching the 4WDs and their accompanying caravans, trying to finesse their way through the log jam. If you are now imagining the sort of caravan you might see on the road in NSW, dear reader, you are mistaken. Think of a NSW van on steroids and then fortified by black sheet metal to protect it from stones. And then, add a boat to the top of the ute and you get the picture.

As interest waned in the fight for a petrol bowser, a fire sprang up across the road. It was not an authorised 'cool burn' and it appeared to have started at the road's edge. Perhaps a stray cigarette butt. I know, people over here still smoke. What is that about? Imagine being able to afford a 4WD, boat, van and still have money for diesel and ciggies! As we were told in Karratha, the mines pay really well. Guess I chose the wrong the business, but I still rate retirement.

The next stop was afternoon tea, where a chocolate ganache cake was magically produced to celebrate a birthday. I saw some red-winged parrots and a fawn diamond dove - an unusual mutation in the wild. There were also some long tailed finches but they proved too elusive for my camera.

A fawn mutation.

That afternoon, we rolled into Katherine for a one night stay and to visit the local bottle shop because our next accommodation in Kakadu is unlicensed, although they are happy if you bring your own.

The bottle shop was supervised by two big, burly, well-armed NT police officers. ID had to be produced prior to entry where you had to guarantee the alcohol was for you and that you weren't supplying any of the "dry" indigenous communities. ID then had to be produced again before you were served. A most interesting process. The stock was quite limited and expensive. They could really do with a Dan Murphy's  outlet.

Canapés and welcome drinks kicked off the evening. Most discussion centred around which wine was the most palatable. It wasn't a wide choice or a long conversation.

Not pretty enough to be up before 5am.

Breakfast the next morning was at 5:30am. Jayne was confused. After retirement she had convinced herself there was only a 5:30 in the evening. The even earlier start than usual was to cram everything in to a packed itinerary for the day which began with a cruise of Katherine Gorge. The sunrise was completely unremarkable. In fact, it was not pretty enough to warrant getting out of bed. Ah, you picked, dear reader, the link to today's title. Who'd have thought I'd ever chose a Kasey Chambers song? Not me.

It was very cold on the water early in the morning. Yes, dear reader, even I succumbed and put on a jumper. Any thoughts of increased bird life in the early dawn were soon dispelled. The cruise was interesting, but if you can opt for a later time slot, take it.

The Greater-billed Heron

Part of the way down the gorge we had to swap boats because of a block up of rocks. The 10 minute walk to the next boat got the blood recirculating and we continued the cruise into the rising sun and glare.

No boat was going through there.

Nitmiluk is home to the Jawoyn people and contains their stories and history. It is a series of gorges, not just one, separated by a series of 'block-ups' in the dry. While the area is considered safe for swimming there are occasional sightings of estuarine crocodiles and they have a number traps set along the river.  Aside form the traps there also red floats attached to chains. Apparently crocs are curious creatures and can't resist testing out the floars with a quick bite to see if the are friend or food. A thumb-sized hole in the float means it's time to get the tourists out of the water.

Looks good enough to swim.

Better check the float first.

It was over all too soon and we were back on the bus heading for Kakadu. The next stop, morning tea at Pine Creek, home of the Hooded Parrot. 

A pair of Hooded parrots.

Of course there was a stop for lunch. We were covering a lot of ground again today. The Kakadu Cultural Centre was our destination. It is well worth a visit, the grounds are well looked after and shady, making it a great spot for lunch. The Cultural Centre has an excellent gift shop with everything from art works to T-shirts to books and nick-nacks. It also houses an interactive display that covers history, story and arts/ crafts and technology such as fish traps.

Then it was back to the tarmac that would eventually be traded once again for red dirt, as we entered Kakadu and located Hawk Dreaming, our home in the wilderness for the next two evenings. But before it was time to rest, we had another cruise, this time on Yellow Water Billabong, home of the Bininj people.

Green-pygmy goose on the wing.

The dominant male.

I cannot rate this cruise highly enough. The local owners were referenced throughout. the guide was knowledgeable and there was an amazing abundance of flora and animal life. I will let the pictures take you there.

A tern. Probably a Common Tern. There were a lot of them.

Black-necked stork, akaa Jabiru.

Egret and lotus lillies.

The ubiquitous Rainbow Bee-eater

That night we treated to the most amazing dinner by Rung. Home-cooked Thai green curry. It was the best meal we'd had since the tour began and was probably the biggest distance from civilisation.

A pair of White-bellied Sea Eagles.

Azure Kingfisher.

Sadly, that was not the end of our night. The meal was excellent, the drinks around the fire were fabulous, despite the squadrons of mosquitoes attempting to carry off various members of our party. Then, at 2:21am, soundly asleep and dreaming of photographing Gouldian Finches, the peace was shattered by our smoke alarm.

The fire had died down and I could smell the smoke as the heat went out of it. I found the alarm and pushed the button. Silence. Excellent. Back to bed. About 10 minutes later it went off again. I bounded out of bed, pushed the button and disengaged the alarm and placed it under my pillow. Once again the night was disturbed only by the woof woof of the Barking Owl. Just as I was drifting back to sleep, BEEP BEEP BEEP, from under my pillow. Jayne's suggestion of "Bury the thing,' although top of my list, was not helpful. I grabbed a T-shirt and wrapped the alarm carefully and then returned it to beneath my pillow.

It didn't sound again until I got up in the morning. It accompanied me to breakfast where Rung listened to my explanation, smiled, and said "Cabin 4?" From that point it proceeded to go off every ten minutes. Persistent and overly-sensitive. Cabin 4 would be operating outside fire and safety regulations the next night.

I learnt a new word today. Bobo. The spelling is subject to animated discussion, but Bininj people prefer not to say goodbye, they would rather say, until next time. Or in their language, bobo.

Bobo.