Unfinished Business

I hate to leave things hanging.

But I have.

I finished my time at the top end in July and this blog has been sitting idle. Time to fix that.

One of the really awesome things I did in my final weeks was to kayak up the Katherine Gorge. We camped overnight under the stars and it felt like we were the only people in the world.

After I finished up working my partner came up and we made our pilgrimage to the red centre. The trip was a once in a life time experience that really made me realise that the world is larger and more spectacular than I though. I also realised time moves fast.

The three months in the Territory moved really fast and the time since hasn't slowed either. I'm 30 now and am relived that the wrinkles and arthritis haven't developed overnight.

The question is what did I learn during my time at the to?

I realised I love where I live in the South (even though it's cold and rainy as I write, although it is spring).

I learnt that I don't want to spend any more time away from my partner.

I was inspired by some wonderful people to seek out the possibilities.

I was shocked that some of the things I thought came naturally to me were really hard to master.

I was surprised and awestruck by the beauty of the Territory.

I discovered I love running.

I understand I still have a whole lot more to learn.

I think I will become a spokesperson for walk abouts. They are well worth undertaking.

Highly evolved dummies

I can't stop thinking about the theory of evolution. There's something about being in a place that's named after the father of natural selection.

Every where you look you can see examples of adaptation. The people here are very relaxed, you have to be to deal with the climate. Even the mannequins in the sex shop window seem to have developed that little bit extra to fit their line of work. The window is on Smith Street, one of the main streets of down-town Darwin (the same street the gaudy cake shop is on, but on the other side of the street and about three blocks down).

I noticed these lovely ladies on my stroll back to my flat after a week of work. From a distance they looked just like any store dummy, wearing a little bit less than normal. But as I walked by something unexpectedly (something a gay man wouldn't think much) about them caught the corner of my eye. Their Dolly Parton-esque cleavage, which is very plastic indeed.

Not a croc about crocs

Today I felt as though all my paranoia over being taken by Crocodylus porosus (salt-water crocodile) was vindicated. A woman was on the radio this morning saying she had spotted a crocodile off Nightcliff Beach, a beach in the northern suburbs. She said her 2 dogs were out in the water having a paddle when the salty made a b-line for them. Luckily they swam back into the shore when she called them.

This afternoon Surf Life Saving NT issued a warning not to go swimming and had sent volunteers down to the coastline to warn people that a croc could be waiting to take them off shore. Its such a pity that man eaters and lethal jellyfish lurk in the inviting turquoise tropical waters. I suppose you can't have everything.

Every week a short one

I still can't believe that it's almost mid winter and I'm still wearing shorts. They are better than jeans because I don't get as hot on my walk to work in the mornings.

This morning I got out of bed just before 6:30 and went for a jog. Sure the weather is a lot cooler in the mornings than what it was when I first arrived, but as I started my morning shuffle I realised it's still very steamy. Boy I love the winter weather up here.

Latley I've been thinking about the time I've spent here so far. Not only have I spent a lot of days wearing shorts (which is strange because back in Newcastle I usually wear jeans, even in the summer), but the weeks have flown by. I realised yesterday I now only have 1 month and 1 day left at work up here. I wounder what's in store for my final Top End month?

No doubt, more days of wearing shorts.

This dosn't make me a bogan...Right?

Ever since my trip to Jumping Crocodile country I've had a strange compulsion to buy a crocodile tooth to wear around my neck. I must confess I have no idea where this urge comes from.

On Saturday I finally gave into my desire. I found myself in a tacky souvenir shop handing over my hard earned for an overpriced piece of enamel that was riped from the jaw of some unfortunate farmed reptile.

I know the whole concept is barbaric. I promised myself I wouldn't sink this low the moment I saw the kangaroo testicle key rings, mummified crocodile foot back scratches and the dead kangaroo paws with the middle finger rudely extended for all time. But that was four weeks ago.

I have been dreaming a bit about crocodiles and I haven't submerged myself in an open body of water since I've been here. I don't intend to.

In explaining to myself my ghoulish jewelry I have found comfort in the namesake of this city's theory of natural selection. But if I'm truthful to myself that argument holds little water. I keep thinking of a crocodile wearing my foot around it's neck. It scares me.

What scares me more is that I may be displaying bogan tendencies.

Not Just A Hole

This is not just a hole. Of course I wouldn't have known this if I had walked past it on a weekday. If it were a workday I probably have jogged past it anyway.

The first time I went by this ditch I didn't even notice it. I was on my way to the museum and art gallery of the Northern Territory. I woke up on Saturday morning and knew that was the one thing I wanted to do with my day. Or at least the other thing than jogging 9km without stopping (which I did!).










On my way back to my flat I was in a plaque reading mood (I still had my museum eyes in). In
fact I saw the sign first. It said 'If I lie in this ditch you can get a very good view of the harbour' which was unusual I thought. I continued reading. It turns out this pretty normal looking hole was dug as a trench to defend the city during the World War II.









Not satisfied with this explanation I got down on my knees and had a look at the view myself (photo above). At that point I felt a real connection to Darwin's past, something I could only imagine as I walked around the museum jut a half hour earlier.

Great to Tree Here

I thought I was impressed by the ruins of the Palmerston Town Hall, which was all but destroyed by Cyclone Tracy, but I'm more taken by this amazing tree's will to survive. It's called Galamarrma or the Tree of knowledge and you find it just outside the Darwin City Council Chambers (which are just across the road from where I'm working). In fact they had to build the chambers around the tree because it's so significant.



The sign near the Banyan tree says its been there since about 1898, which means it's survived three major cyclones and the bombing of Darwin. Over this time it's been an important meeting place to number of generations of Darwinians.


But it isn't the only amazing tree in the city. I've noticed several while I've been jogging and I plan to go back and take some photos of them.




As I stand in front of these trees I think of the comfort they give me. Not just from the shade they throw where I can escape the hot tropical sun, but through the things they remind me of. Stability, flexibility and life.