Gaagudju

Thursday 09

We woke late again. We keep wanting to get away early. Having all the intention to the night before and setting the alarm for an early start. But this morning it was freezing outside the comfort of our sheets. Eleven degrees. In August in Sydney this may be a mild night, but after the nights we have experienced in the last two weeks it felt as if an iceberg had landed outside our ute and a constant breeze from its icy wind filled the RTT. We finally struggled to get up. Somehow we packed up and we were away, due North heading for Katherine.

It doesn’t take long for the heat to build. I opted this morning for a singlet for the first time on this trip. We passed a couple of swollen cows that had unfortunately been struck down by one of the many road trains frequenting this highway. There rotting corpses filled the air. Ready to burst as they lay lifeless. The stench wofted into the inside of the ute as we drove past. Cath quickly wound up the windows and put the air on circulate.

“Yuck! Why do they look so fat babe?”
“When they die, gas builds up in there stomachs from the heat. There decomposing body forces there legs apart, and they swell up until they are ready to explo..”
“Ok, ok, ok, ok I get it. I get it!”

We rolled into Katherine and quickly found woolies car park. It was almost mid day and the heat had set in. We jumped out of the ute and felt the heat instantly on our skin. We ran into woolies and re-stocked the supplies. Once again Cath wants to buy a months worth of food and try’s to fit it into and already half full cupboard and esky. We stood under the sun arguing about where things should go. The heat was getting to us and hangry was coming out to play, for both parties. With cupboards chocker block full the fun part was trying to shut the cupboard doors with food packaging hanging out from the tops and sides as we were trying to force them shut. On lookers walking by must of thought we were a right pair as we screamed and shouted and took our frustrations out on the draws! We eventually got it in and were back in the ute. Mission accomplished.

We pulled up under a tree near a statue of some kind in the middle of town. There were camper trailers and caravans parked across a dusty field. I noticed a camper trailer I had seen write ups about in one of my four wheel drive magazines years ago and have always wanted to see one in the flesh. Well, here it was. The Conqueror. Adequately named. These things are built from military specs and have been designed to take on the toughest terrain. Now I have to admit I hate the idea of towing things, that’s why we set up our ‘rig’ the way we did. All the essentials and more to get to all the places most don’t. Light, stream line and quick. Yet if I had to get a camper trailer for what ever reason in the future, I wouldn’t be happy unless it was a Conqueror. They look the absolute bee’s knees up in the flesh. Sitting staunch and looking as if it should belong behind the back of a tank. I had to get a descent look. With Cath making lunch I seized the opportunity and walked over to take a closer inspection. I circled it and took in all it had on display. The owner had his head in the cab of his ute. I had to ask him his honest opinion on it. We ended up chatting for a while on it. He was extremely friendly and even opened it up so I could get a look at the inside. I did not have to ask many questions as he was very passionate about his Conqueror and gave me all the answers to the questions I wanted to ask. His wife had came around to and was very eager to show myself the set up. I could tell they absolutely loved it. We stood chatting for a while about where we had been and the type of camping they were into. We actually had very similar taste. John and Lynne, offered for Cath to come and have a look once they had been shopping for their own supplies. I thanked them and went back to eat my lunch. I told Cath how super friendly they were and that they had offered to give Cath a quick tour. Cath ran over. We all stood around admiring the Conqueror. Swapping stories once again. A lovely couple to eat my lunch with. Just proving once again how friendly this camping community really are.

We found cover from the sun under a large tree in tow. Whilst having phone coverage we took the opportunity to organize tours and permits for the schedule ahead. All sorted and booked in we made our way to Katherine Gorge camp ground. Checked ourselves in, whilst also pleasuring one of our senses with a cheeky icy-pole.

We set up our rig and soaked in another well deserved afternoon in the shade to do nothing. Dreaming about owning a Conqueror whilst Cath hung up some washing.

Friday 10

For once we were up with the alarm. We had finally achieved our goal. We were up and out of camp and doing the Katherine Gorge walk. First on the track, we had the whole place to ourselves. Walking up the steep rocky steps up to the lookout, the heat was building quickly. We pushed on knowing we had a lot to do today. The view at the top was well worth the climb, the gorge opened up in front of us and no one else to spoil the scenery. Its dark green water flowing from the rocky canyon that housed them, spilling out on to the flat laying land at the bottom of the gorges mouth. A magical sight in front of us. A board that showed how in the wet season the river would burst its banks and spill out onto the land below. Scooting along we managed to walk five and a half kilometers and found ourselves back in camp for nine thirty.

A great electrifying way to start the day.

We had the whole camp packed up as we drove out of the gate at precisely ten o’clock. We could not be happier with that. Right on schedule, we had enough time for Cath to get a coffee from Maccas. Something apparently a coffee drinker needs to have in order to wake up!?

Pine Creek is a rather quaint pretty place. Keeping all of its historical looks about it. Old fuel pumps and grocery stores. It eluded an inviting happy feeling. Its situated on the door step to Kakadu (Gaagudju) NP. We topped up the fuel tank, and wondered into the shop. The shop shared its grounds along side a quirky looking real NT outback pub. We wandered through it taking in the cool breeze coming in through its wall-less front. Dotted around the bar were European style mounts from scrub bulls I assumed shot from around this area. All were covered in Aboriginal art on there skulls. They also had the skulls of large crocodiles including one that had been dyed gold. Cath used the toilet and ran out telling me that they were the nicest toilets she had used the entire trip. I had a look. Standing in front of an old stone wall, the cubicles were recycled corrugated tin and the door made from an old oak. The sink and urinal were an old recycled horses trough with copper garden taps situated above. It had been done so well and looked extremely clean. How’s this blog turned into me sharing interior design features about a toilet?

Standing in front of the sign to Kakadu It hit me. We are finally on this trip and really doing it! Crazy to make what was once a dream a reality.

We pulled over once inside the park for a quick bite of lunch. The ute was on a lean on the side of the road. Water was dripping from the side we had opened up. “Ohh no, where is that coming from?” As I ran around to the other side of the canopy opening up its door to find one of the ten litre drums of water we had purchased from Anaconda to top up our main tank to shower and wash with was empty. The other twin of it had lost about a litre too. Crap. There was not much we could do now so we pushed on.

We had no set route through Kakadu. We looked at the map and zig zagged our way across it. Working out how many days we had and how long each part would take. “OK lets start here at… Gunlom.” We turned off the main high way and hit gravel again. Whilst airing down a wagon carting a caravan passed. They didn’t stop to let some pressure from there tyres. I watched it as its twin axles were shuddering up and down whilst the caravan sitting on top was darting from left to right over the corrugations. They slowed almost to a walking pace. We got under way and not long after overtook them. We passed a handful of cars on our way. “Jeez those guys are doing it a bit rough!”. With all the traffic on the dirt road when we finally arrived, the front of the ute had a red dirt mark sprayed across the face of it from all the dust. “She now looks the part hey babe!”.

We were told by a fellow camper that there was nowhere to swim in Kakadu because of all the crocs. But somehow we winged it and found two straight off the bat.

After making yet another stop for the toilet, we started to notice everyone in the carpark walking around with swimmers and towels. Cath decided to pack a towel and her swimmers just incase, and we set off down the track. Only 100m from the car was a waterfall with a large water hole – and despite the large croc signage, a few people were keen in the shallows of the sandy bank. “Have you been up the top yet, mate?” asked a fellow traveller. Both Cath and I looked at each other. “It’s really amazing up there, the water isn’t as cold either,” he said. I’d already waded my feet into the water to cool off whilst Cath was debating to get in or not. We decided to make our way to the top to see what the fuss was about. We again passed the large warning sign for crocs and trekked up the vertical and treacherous path – it wasn’t just a staircase, it was hopping from boulder to boulder up a very steep and rocky embankment. The midday sun burned and after 20 mins of climbing over sandy boulders and rocks, we’d made it. A gorgeous swimming hole that opened out overlooking the scenery below. An eager young American girl bounced around asking if we had swum yet and that the pools above were even better than the ones before us.

The infinity pool was deep blue housed by red ochre rocks and swimmers lounged in the water seemingly careless for any signs of predators.

“The crocs can’t get in here,” the young girl exclaimed again. Cath and I waded in and it was unbelievably refreshing after the hot climb. Reminiscing back to a previous hotel in Italy that featured a made-made infinity pool, we thought to ourselves how magical Mother Nature is – and that imitation really is the highest form of flattery. From the infinity pool, the water cascaded over it falling 200ft to the waterhole below where we had started. From higher ground, the water tiered over 3 pools and fed its way into the infinity pool. A blue dragonfly came and sat on the red rock that was being washed in cool water. The contrast was stunning. Green moss and trees hugged the rocks and whilst Cath struggled to shake the idea of a croc leaping out of the water at any given time – we took our last view and decided to have a look at the pool above before heading back down the track to the car.

The rocks are spellbinding here – large and luminous red, they hold secrets that only the land know.

We are so lucky to experience this natural wonder. And with that thought, we drove on to Maguk.

The permit for seven days in Kakadu is $40 per person, and doesn’t include camping fees. There are a few hotels and caravan parks in the area, but Cath and I are on a budget and prefer to stay out in the open. We pull into Maguk, a “managed” camping site for $6pp. The day has been hot and we’re looking forward to a rest after our day of exploring. However, as we open the canopy door, a stream of water floods down onto the floor. “Ahhhhh” exclaims Cath. I run around to see what’s happened and everything is wet. The humidity of the day compounded with our canopy being shut up had magnified the condensation. The water drums that had leaked all throughout the back end had now saturated everything in sight – carpet, draws, food… everything. The labels were even starting to peel off some of the food cans in our draw. Bugger. We had to pull everything out and leave the whole canopy open for the night in an attempt to dry out. Almost 11 litres had spilled and despite our anger to throw these tanks from here to Timbuktu, we decided to keep them in a hope to get our money back from Anaconda in Darwin. Again, we must have looked like a right pair with the whole contents of our ute now on display in the dust. Let’s hope it’s dry by morning.

Saturday 11

Ah, the weekend. If we are to look on the brightside of this waterfall in our own backyard, we finally get a guilt-free sleep in. We decided to take the morning slower so that things have a chance to dry out – and cause Cath would do anything for more shut-eye. The mornings here, as do days, get hot quickly and we are up at eight with the sun beaming down. We decide to indulge with breakfast in bed – easier than it sounds when you’re holding two cereal bowls up a ladder. The canopy is looking much better and with a good clean out and the first use of our vacuum cleaner, we pack back up the contents of our home.

Zig-zagging across the map. “OK location number two?”. The map didn’t note what to see or expect at any of the locations. With our Steed ready to roll again, we drove into the carpark of Maguk. Already full with other 4WD’s and eager travellers, we grabbed our swimmers again for the hopeful chance that this might just be another diamond in the rough.

Maguk, also known as Barramundi Creek, is spring fed and the 1km track in is a rock hopping walk through monsoon forest and up a flowing creek. The warning signs here note that Rangers regularly remove crocodiles from the area each year and that they can return at any time without sign. With that in mind, we grabbed our towels and our courage, and headed for the waterhole. What we expected was something pretty special – when we arrived, we were absolutely in awe of what laid before us. A deep gorge full of swimmers, some bathing whilst others jumping off the high rocks into the deep water below. A stunning sight, and one that we could not wait to dive into and explore. The water was cool and refreshing, one could even say, the perfect temperature. We swam in the shallows and then climbed onto the nearby rocks taking it all in. The waterfall was on the far side of the gorge and an eager swim across. Cath, still worried about that jumping croc, doggie paddled behind me as we made our way around the edge. “Look at all these people, babe. There’s no crocs in here,” I told her. “I’ve watched too many Hollywood movies to know if things are this perfect, there’s usually a catch!”. She replied. I grabbed her hand and we made our way across the gorge to the waterfall.

The water is a dark blue and with swimmers leaping off the high rocks, we wonder how deep this rabbit hole really goes.

Kids swim around with snorkels and fins whilst parents sun themselves, and we realized this place really is a diamond. Once again it hit me how truly incredible this adventure we are on, really is. We could of quite happily of spent a few days swimming in this jaw-droppingly beautiful place. A highlight of this trip so far.

Sadly leaving Maguk, we made our way to Cooinda. We had booked ourselves on a two hour wilderness cruise on the ‘Yellow River’ in the wetlands at sunset. A vast swampy area teeming with life and covering a huge percentage of the park. We didn’t want to be late, so we arrived early and scoped it out. With time up our sleeves, we made it to the Aboriginal centre and spent up our time in the aircon. This is where I realised I absolutely stunk! “I think its time to change my shirt babe. It’s only the second day wearing it”. But from all the swimming and being wet then hot and forgetting to put deodorant on when arriving back at the ute – it was paying it’s price.

There is so much history with how the Aboriginals lived on this land that has been lost, and somewhat, not continued. It really is incredible how they lived in such a harsh climate. I really would love to know a lot more about how they survived – I find it absolutely fascinating. But unfortunately their history is slowly being lost in time, or at least feels, not easily accessible in the Western world. What they went through when Europeans arrived is shocking. It’s a story on its own and worth a Google, or a trip to Kakadu to learn more. But if you don’t know much, I think it would make quite an interesting and unfortunately disturbing read.

Somehow even being early to the river cruise we were still beaten by the bus tours. The amount of people queuing up on the jetty for the boat was huge! “Jesus, how big’s this boat?!” As we got around the corner they appeared. Three large boats, seating about forty people per boat. We boarded and our captain, whose family are traditional land owners of the area, is named Travis. We waited around as a women from one of the tour buses was apparently lost. “She was probably eaten by a croc babe!”

We waited around for about fifteen minutes before disembarking. A little girl sat with her family infront of us, and as Travis made his inappropriate jokes regarding the useless use of a lifejacket in these waters, her eyes widen and hands clenched in her seat. She was very worried and yet to learn the art of sarcasm. I was sitting in the sun and sheltering Cath happily sitting beside me in the shade. I was baking. Looking around, we all looked like we could do with a quick swim. With the missing person found – actually a European who had already boarded but without signing herself on, we were off. I spotted the first croc – my eyes now trained to their presence. They truly are a fascinating predator. Travis continued to run us through how to put on a life vest. “If this boat was sinking the only reason I would be wearing one would be for protection, or using it to help me onto the boat’s roof”. “I wont be getting in the water I can give you that tip!” Cath agreed.

Seventy five percent of Australia’s bird life can be found in Kakadu.

There were birds of all different varieties, shapes and sizes. I’ve never been a bird guy but I’ve gotta say, it even made me look at birds in a new light. There was a bird for everyone. My personal favourite was a white-bellied sea eagle. The second largest bird of prey in Australia. Closely followed by a tiny, multi coloured Kingfisher that was rather un-phased by our presence and sat on a tiny branch posing for the cameras.

The eyesight on our guide Travis was phenomenal. He found wildlife that I could not have seen even with an hour to spend looking and a pair of binoculars – he was doing it on the move and within a heartbeat. Simply incredible… almost super human. I was in awe of him – I wish I could do that. He found a golden tree snake hidden in a tree. Everyone was struggling to see it even with him using a broom handle to point it out. In the water and out of the water there were crocs everywhere. The animal I wanted to see the most was a water buffalo and we eventually found one grazing in the vegetation just up from the shore line. Huge beasts with their almighty black horns protruding from their skull. We simply had it all. Including Travis stopping the boat and playing his didgeridoo especially for us. He played music from his area and even showed us how other tribes played it using different sounds. It was such a special moment. To top it all off we sat and watched a large herd of water buffalo finally come out of hiding. They silently grazed across the grassy wetlands and as the young buffalo ran around playing, the sun slowly made its way over the horizon. Honestly one of the most magical days of my life. We are so lucky to have all this within the one country.

‘Sandy Billabong’ was on the map and was close by. We even read on wikicampers that it was one of the most beautiful spots to camp in. The track leading on down to it was very narrow, only enough room for one car. Small trees and grass etched a path in front of us through the landscape till we made it to camp. The sun had well and truly gone down and it was pitch black. The bugs were out and there was a constant bombardment from them kamikazeing into the ute’s headlights. We found our spot and turned the lights off. I put my phone on the dash. The light from it glared up onto the windscreen. The bugs in their millions were trying to get to it. “Crap, cooking dinner is going to be hard”. We organized a game plan. Cath was to cook dinner and I was to set up the tent. “And GO!” I turned the rock lights on the rear of the car so we could see. Thinking that the lights would keep them at feet level and out of the dinner. Whilst I was on the roof of the canopy unveiling the tent, I had them buzzing in my ears. It was disgusting how many there were of them. “Who’s idea was it to park next to a billabong?!” Cath somehow executed a perfect dinner in one pot and we rushed back into the ute and to eat counting who got bitten the most. We planned another strategy. This time, no lights at all. Even climbing into bed. It helped, but still didn’t stop them biting. I have honestly never seen so many bugs and been bitten so many times in such a short space of time. It was like a scene from an old horror movie.

The day from heaven ended up finishing in hell.

I have witnessed so many extreme contrasts on this trip, and this had to be one of them. I was getting bitten in the RTT. “But its got flyscreen mesh everywhere. How the hell are they getting in?” No way was I turning a light on and attracting more. It was so stinking hot up there already with only the side windows open and in an attempt to prevent less bugs getting in. I had to weigh up the heat or the bites. So I chose the heat and got under the blankets to stop the bites. We spent the night roasting ourselves whilst scratching our sores. We can honestly say it was the worst night sleep of our lives!

The Cooks.