Ancient wonders and natural beauty in Kakadu National Park

When my friend said she would travel with me to Darwin and then onto a four-day tour into Kakadu, I jumped at the chance. Off we went, my capable friend being mother duck to her wobbly little duckling.

From Melbourne’s winter to Darwin’s 30ºC, the change was quite delicious.

For a capital city, Darwin in quite small, but being on a peninsula there were water views wherever we looked. Sadly it was a little expensive, with a bread-and-butter-plate-size pizza setting us back $15. At 8.30pm after a long day I was ready to eat the plate, so it was just money by that point. 

Bus travel on the other hand was very affordable at just $2 a day for seniors and pensioners.

The John Flynn Museum in Darwin was unforgettable. There was an interactive exhibit of the bombing of Darwin Harbour by the Japanese. I sat with this huge mask on my little pin head, tears pouring down my cheeks. It was so uncomfortably real. 

We finally jumped on the bus to Kakadu, which by the way, isn’t its Aboriginal name. Gardiju is the original name and it had been spelled out phonetically and incorrectly.

The bus was lovely, spacious and comfortable with excellent internet service.

After looking at far too many termite mounds out the window, we stopped for a pitstop and a bit of a feed, before we were taken to the top of a wondrous collection of rocks for photos of the view. 

We arrived at our destination, the Mercure Kakadu Crocodile Hotel, aptly named because from above it’s shaped like a crocodile. 

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My friend is an avid walker so we wandered off into the little mining town of Jabaru where we got lost and had to ask two obliging gentlemen to show us how to get back. 

The next morning all 11 of us were picked up in a huge jeep. Being outback roads, my teeth were rattled, as was the rest of me.

The wet season had just ended and we were the first group in. The land was still water-logged and covered with lotus leaves and flowers, the little birds trotting around as though walking on water. 

Our boat was like a barge so the odd crocodile made its presence known by cruising along beside us.

I had my first ever small plane ride over the Jim Jim falls. Being the smallest I was tucked in with the pilot, with the co-pilot controls in front of me. My arms and legs were tucked in like a spider in case I touched anything. 

Leaving the wet, we were scrambling up escarpments, which offered breath-taking views when I had recovered enough to enjoy it. In one case at a particularly dangerous area, an elderly gentleman decided to pull me up – quite unnecessary, I can assure you – and he wobbled alarmingly at the edge. Bad luck if he went over, but he was attached to me, so I gave him a yank and we had a somewhat intimate embrace squashed against the cliff face. 

Our reward for climbing was a billabong at the top. For Crocodile Dundee fans, it’s the same one where Linda (aka Sue) bared her luscious rear end in a thong bathing suit. Coming from a ‘no bum’ family, I didn’t follow example.

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The Aboriginal rangers were wonderful, shy and gentle souls. They spoke of wall paintings at length explaining the dating of them. Unable to carbon date, they go by the creatures depicted and from the fossils found in the region. They can tell how old they are pretty accurately that way. One interesting thing we learned is that they are painted over, layer by layer, by many generations.

The photo here with the ship was painted by our guide Samuel’s great-great-grandfather who saw it in the river and painted what he saw. 

One painting had a sign meaning ‘sick country’. It is a short distance from a uranium mine.  

The art here is incredible. Three generations will sit at a table painting with a brush that looked like one single hair. Only men painted at one stage, while women wove. The silk screens of their work are purchased for public buildings all over the world.  

I also heard a story here that I loved. There were once two sisters who realised they could change into crocodiles and back into people. Over and over they did this until one day they found they couldn’t change back and return to their families. So, each day the families went back to the billabong with food so that the family could stay together and the sisters would not eat them. 

Well, there you have it, I hope these words will encourage others to see this part of our magnificent country.