Crocodile Rock (Arnhem Land, East Alligator River, Hawk Dreaming, NT)

I know you've been waiting for this title dear reader, it was an inevitability given all the references to crocodiles. At some point I had to go with the obvious and reference Elton John's classic song from 1973. You know you love it, enjoy. And yes, I'm pretty certain I've used it before but with almost 400 posts I'm not backtracking to see where or when.

Before I dive too deeply into today's exploits I just wanted to make an observation or two. Firstly, some of my commentary will probably be overtly political in the remaining few posts. Yes, I know, my long suffering reader, I have always been political. I'm just flagging it. If you don't like my politics, well, too bad, it's my blog, write your own or go watch Sky News.

Secondly, since we crossed the border into the NT, one of the major differences between here and WA has become blindingly obvious. In the NT, the legacy, the history and story of the first peoples of Australia are put right to the fore and celebrated. In WA it appears as an afterthought or at best, tokenism. Except in Durack country. Nothing existed before the Duracks. I'm sure I read that in Genesis.

As supporting evidence of my previous assertion, I tender the expected announcement, as reported by the ABC this week, from the WA Government (Labour ... shame) to repeal the Aboriginal Cultural Heritage Act 2023. It was enacted in July 1, 2023. Last month. They are reverting to the previous act that allowed the destruction of Jukkan Gorge by Rio Tinto. Cool and normal.

Anyway ... you've been warned.

We had something close to a sleep in, a 7am breakfast. Luxury, particularly after the excitement of our smoke alarm. The local blue-winged kookaburras were hanging around hoping for some kitchen scraps. It was not to be.

They are so much more colourful in flight.

Today we are travelling from Kakadu, across the East Alligator River, into Arnhem Land. Our regular guides were getting some well deserved downtime and we were punted to a "local" guide. Local is an interesting word. He was local to the extent that he had lived in the NT and was available, but not local in that he now lived on the NSW north coast and was born and raised in Sydney.

Like most of the guides we had come across, he was well versed in information to share about the local wildlife, the indigenous art works, the geography of the area and so on. He was also happy to share his thoughts on the upcoming Voice referendum as well as his perspective on the Aboriginal people. While everyone is entitled their own twist on how they view the world, it never ceases to amaze me how many people in this country want to make money out of the Aboriginal history and culture of this land and yet are happy to deride them. I've seen and heard it so often before. It is tedious. And generally ill informed.

It's the same with the misinformation being spread about the Voice. No really. OK, not now.

The truck/bus we were spending our day in, was not as big as our regular vehicle so two of us had the fortune, good or otherwise, to travel upfront. The roads in Arnhem Land weren't any better than any others we'd been on recently but being in the front cabin made the ride marginally smoother. Greg, my co-passenger and I decided we would coordinate our body/head sways lest we collide and give each other concussion. We rocked. We rolled. We bounced. We survived. Unharmed. Greg (not the driver) is a champion.

Sandstone worn smooth by the original inhabitants.

We crossed the East Alligator River at Cahills Crossing, a causeway that notoriously attracts tourists who are keen to be crocodile bait. I would have waited to watch that, but we were on a timeline. The river is so named because explorers were often stupid, oh sorry, poorly educated. This incorrect naming of the river system because of a lack of knowledge has remained unchanged. Why? The usual bureaucracy. When it was realised that the animals in the water were crocs, not alligators, some bean-counting desk-jockey said it would too difficult and expensive to change the name. So it remains. Gotta love Straya.

It's very different country in Arnhem Land.

First stop after crossing the river was to view some indigenous art. This country is so different. Sandstone cliffs and plains that go on forever. Waterways that look tranquil but harbour hungry locals. Real locals, not those visiting, armed with a rote-learned script. It's best not to ask too many questions, going off-script can induce panic. Or bullshit. Or both.

I'm just pretending not to notice you. Come closer.

There is an obvious shift in the style of painting from the Gwion Gwion art of the Kimberley to what is often referred to as x-ray art because of the incredible amount of detail included in the work.

Barramundi. Yum.

Arnhem Land, like most of the country we have travelled through, is stunning. It is home to an amazing array of flora and fauna. It is also home to burgeoning numbers of feral animals. I mentioned the cane toads earlier, today we saw wild horses and buffalo. While we didn't see any feral pigs, although the damage they cause is evident everywhere and has a major impact on the condition of the roads.

Are you looking at me?

It seemed like there were artworks on every rock surface, telling the story of generation after generation of the first inhabitants of Australia. Around 65,000 years of continuous association with the land. Absolutely amazing and yet we dismiss it out of hand. We get more excited about pyramids or some aqueducts built by the Romans. It is high time we recognised our own people and the contribution they have made to the world. A population that lived in harmony with the land and the water, until Europeans arrived. They have much to teach us still and we have so much to learn.

One area we visited had been tagged as the Indigenous Olympic site because it was where spear throwing contests were held. I can't vouch for the validity of this, but the rock they aimed at had multiple spear points embedded high up in a crevice. It might not have been the Olympics, but it would have taken skill, talent, athleticism and strength to leave a spear point behind in the rock.

Look closely. Truly amazing!

Around us, as we travelled in different areas of Arnhem Land, the cool burns continued and smoke rose lazily in the distance to remind us that land was still being cared for by its original owners. 

We stopped at Gunbalanya to check out the art gallery and to have lunch by the river. It was a beautiful spot and the water was enticing on such a hot day. While we couldn't see the crocodiles, we knew they were there and were probably watching, as we enjoyed a meal of Pad Thai noodles, again provided by the talented Rung.

Not as tempting as it seems.

Back on the road, we visited more art sites on the way back to Kakadu and Hawk Dreaming where we were staying.

Speaks for itself.

While I enjoyed Arnhem Land immensely, I would have been much happier had our guide been indigenous. I don't know why this tends to be a rare occurrence, but an indigenous guide adds so much more to the experience. Their reflection, their thoughtfulness in every response, the fact that they are not just parroting a learned script, makes such a difference. If you doubt that, ask a guide a question that takes them off-script. A good guide will admit their deficit of knowledge. Most will bluster, bullshit and carry on. I've travelled with both. The latter is more common. Sadly. However, you can't challenge them, no, no, no. That's how the system works. You just sit quietly and know they are wrong.

A grindstone below one of the artwork overhangs.

Our day was not done yet. After a brief respite we were heading to the rock formation that gave its name to the lodge, Hawk Dreaming. Before that, Rung decided to put some food out for the Blue-winged Kookaburras. That got me very excited. And, just quietly, pretty happy with the photos below.

Is that the dinner bell?

Watch your fingers.

Brilliant colours.

Hawk Dreaming, the lodge, was named after the Whistling Kites that constantly circle the nearby outcrop of sandstone. There are areas of rock art around the region, reflecting the indigenous habitation and involvement in their country. One more recent piece of art depicted the plane from a Qantas advertisement from the 1950s, clearly demonstrating continuous association with the land.

Not a hawk, or a kite in sight.

The photo doesn't capture it very well. Qantas.

We then moved to a nearby rock platform to enjoy the changing colours, as the sun went down. And a couple of glasses of wine. It is just such special country. Seriously, if you get the opportunity do it. 

Nice place for a sunset drink. Swimming not advised.

Then it was time to head back to the lodge for another sensational Thai dinner prepared by Rung. After dinner, it was time for some formalities. Tonight, while not the final dinner, would be the last occasion when our tour group would be together in a venue that was exclusively for our use.

Our elder statesman, Ken, spoke eloquently on behalf of us all, acknowledging our guides as well as our fellow travellers. After this, it was time to retire to prepare for tomorrow and the final leg of our adventure, heading into Darwin and back to civilisation.

Bobo.

You Gotta Love This City (Sydney staycation)

Welcome back my dear reader. This is a rather long post, words and pictures, so you might want to pour a cuppa or grab a glass of something depending on the time of day and your particular needs.

Thursday

And the staycation commenced with a cracker of a spring day in Sydney. Blue skies and sunshine. We did what everyone should do on vacation: slept late and lounged around until we felt it was time to get motivated. And then we went for a walk around the neighbourhood and did some shopping for dinner. All very domestic. Dinner won't be as interesting as the last few evenings, but in keeping with the celebration of our anniversary week, it will be accompanied by a bottle of 1980 Grange Hermitage. There has been a little ullage over the years and the tasting notes online suggested we should have opened it for our 30th anniversary, but we shall see.

Let happy hour begin

Anyway, the day continued. Happy hour happened (I love alliteration) and then dinner and THE wine. It was much better than I thought it would be. The cork broke into three pieces. It was moist but wouldn't hold together. The wine was strained into the decanter and allowed to rest for an hour so before dinner. Oh, come on, it's an old wine, it needed a rest. In the glass the colour was tending to brown as expected, the nose was spicey and there was a restrained spirit on the palate. As an aged wine, really couldn't ask for more. The last two bottles of Grange have gone down the sink but not this one. That is reflective of the how the wines were kept over the years rather than wine quality.

As good as it gets

Friday we spent the morning at the Chau Chak Wing Museum, or the Nicholson Museum as we still call it, at our alma mater, Sydney University. Entry is free and timed for access, but once inside you stay as long as you like. We were there just over two hours.  It is well worth a visit.

It is a new building funded by the Chinese donor whose name it carries. If you're a Sydney local, it is the new concrete bunker-like building next to Fisher Library. While it doesn't permit the display of every artefact 'acquired'  by the university, it certainly provides a better space to see much more of the collection. And what an eclectic collection it is. From indigenous works from the Northern Territory to stuffed animals, pinned butterflies, photographs, art works, Egyptian mummies and numerous other pieces from China, the Middle East, Ancient Greece and Rome ... the list goes on. The photos below speak for themselves.

A dugout from the Tiwi Islands

Didgeridoos from Arnhem Land

The colours were stunning

Mummy

Not mummy but daddy

A couple of Jeffrey Smart paintings

Assorted stuffed animals

Look closely. A fly tried to add itself to the collection.

To continue in the tourist mode, we went shopping in the afternoon. Well, it is Black Friday, another piece of American imperial consumerism forced upon unsuspecting Australians. I can't wait for the day we celebrate Christopher Columbus Day too. Another day of great shopping bargains. Actually dear reader, if you cast your mind back to the first post in this series you may recall the ruby earrings I purchased for Jayne for our anniversary. As predicted, we ventured into Sydney CBD to exchange them.

And as happy hour and celebration of Friday night commences, Jayne is wearing her ruby necklace. Curiously, I liked the necklace but opted not to purchase it because she rarely changes the diamond pendant I bought for her 21st that hangs around her swan-like neck. Regardless. The ruby anniversary has been commemorated in ruby.

Pretty.

Back to the usual Friday night behaviour. Pizza dough is proving, the wine is breathing, we are listening to Powderfinger's new album (yes, it's a thing. Unreleased 1998-2010 is the title) and unusually, the air conditioning is on.

Saturday lived up to the prediction of extreme heat and hit 39°. Despite this, we continued with our planned walk around some of the parks and gardens of Sydney. It is really interesting. We did a similar walk a few weeks back, focussed on some of the historic buildings. That walk was called Public Sydney. Both can be accessed through the app Open Sydney. On both walks we have discovered things hidden in plain sight, things we have walked past without ever noticing. The focus is on post colonisation while recognising that Australia is, was and always will be Aboriginal land.

Today we commenced at the Hyde Park Barracks, walked through Hyde Park, the Domain and onto the Botanic Gardens. This time we actually stopped to look at fountains, bubblers and other structures that we have not noticed before. The app provides a commentary and it takes about 2 hours to complete. Below are some pictures of the walk. I opted not to take my proper camera, so all the photos are courtesy of my iPhone.

The barracks where we began the walk

The Archibald Fountain

The Archibald Fountain is another war memorial and has strong links to France. Apparently it is world famous. Who knew? It is quite spectacular and I've never really stopped to look at it before today. It is quite impressive and, had I been touring in Europe, I would have taken several photographs. Interesting how the things we grew up with we just take for granted.

Baptist Fountain in Hyde Park

I didn't even know this existed. It was donated by John Baptist Junior, a Portuguese migrant and one time resident of Redfern. Baptist Street is named after him because that is where he had his nursery and garden. He also donated the magnificent fountain in Redfern Park and the gates to the park.

The War Memorial and Reflection Pool

The water fountain was introduced to encourage temperance and back in its day, would have had metal cups attached by chain to it for people to drink from ... very sanitary. There is another at the entrance to the Domain. Water fountains for public use signify civilisation, apparently.

A water fountain

Looking to St Mary's from Sandringham Memorial Garden

The fountain in the Sandringham Garden

Sandringham Memorial Gardens was another aspect of Hyde Park that I knew nothing about. It is in the northern part of the park near the Park and College Street intersection. The fountain itself is part of a sunken garden that has arbours covered with wisteria. Shady and cool on a blisteringly hot Sydney day. The fountain was quite controversial when the design was revealed because the floor of the pool is covered with Aboriginal motifs.

The Domain was the next stop, named by Governor Bligh, to be maintained as a public space for the respectable people of Sydney Town to take a turn down the avenues of giant fig trees.  There was an inner Domain for the exclusive use of the Governor and then the outer Domain for the people.  This was another pioneering place as it was one of the first parks anywhere in the world to have public toilets.  Because it was deemed desirable to create a sub-tropical feel to the parklands, a number of palm trees were planted around the toilet blocks and they remain there to this day. 

In keeping with our tourist tradition, we paused at the restaurant and outdoor bar across the road from the Art Gallery, to have a cold beer and sit for a bit before we ventured across the Cahill Expressway, away from the Domain and into the Botanic Gardens.

Just inside the Woolloomooloo gates at the Botanic Garden

There was plenty to photograph inside the Botanic Gardens and the commentary looked briefly at the history of a few different sections of the gardens and some specific plantings. Again, and I've spent a lot of time here over the years, I saw things today that I'd never noticed before. It is a timely reminder to appreciate what we have and, in the time of Covid where travel is still restricted, perhaps we should be exploring our own backyard. And that brings us to the title of this post, a little number from The Whitlams in 1999, Gotta Love This City and we do. We noticed plenty of other statues and structures today that didn't form a part of the guided walk and we intend to go back and check them out - when the weather is a bit cooler.

Sunday is the last day of our Anniversary celebrations and also Jayne's break from work. The staycation saw us at the Museum of Sydney. We have lived in the 'fern for 6 years now and Jayne has been talking about visiting this museum since we moved in. Finally ticked that box.

The Edge of the Trees outside the museum

The Museum of Sydney is on the corner of Bent and Phillip Streets, on the site of the original Government House. Curiously, it is a museum about Sydney. So, it is aptly named. There aren't a lot photos because there wasn't a lot that was easy to photograph. The current exhibition features information on the architects Walter Burley Griffin and Marion Mahony Griffin and their work in the design and construction of Castle Crag. There was plenty of static information and a number of video presentations. We were there for around 3 hours and could have stayed longer.

Fancy an 8 month cruise?

The first Government House, built in 1789, grew and was renovated in a ramshackle way by successive Governors, until is was demolished in 1845. The original footings are able to be viewed through special areas through glass panels in the floor. There are also a number of exhibits that were discovered when the site was excavated.

Some Aboriginal artefacts

All very interesting, but the main point, from my perspective, was the retelling of the story of the early colony through Aboriginal eyes, with scholars such as Marcia Langton (and others) providing commentary. It showed the story we were never told at school, but should have been. We didn't see the whole production because we had to be elsewhere but managed to watch around 45 minutes of it. It was a pity you were not informed as to the length of the film. Many people came and went as we watched.

Then it was time to make our way to Handpicked Wines at Chippendale. We braved the 40kmh winds that were ripping in from the desert and made our way to Circular Quay and the light rail stop where we boarded a tram. We alighted at Haymarket and walked the few minutes to Handpicked where we sheltered from the extreme weather and enjoyed a delightful bottle of their 2014 Marsanne and a cheese and charcuterie plate, building our strength for the assault on the final leg of our walk home.

And so ends our anniversary week of celebrations, dear reader, I hope you have enjoyed your time with us. We'll back in January when we are finally escaping NSW for South Australia, Adelaide and the Barossa to be specific.

Until next time.