Why I love traveling Down Under - Nico does Australia

I came across this post I had written but never published and, after several minutes thinking back wistfully to those glorious days with King Dave, I decided better late than never.  Enjoy!

The love bowl, also known as Sharon the share bowl.  Every night we all take a fork or spoon and dig in to a sumptuous backpacker feast of rice, pasta, or cous-cous plus anything else we find to throw in.  But instead of dishing it into separate plates, we eat straight from the love bowl, saving time, heat, and dishwashing effort.  This has been going on nearly every night for six weeks, now with three groups of travelmates.  That's a lotta love.

The spinifex hopping mouse.  Normally when you're told by a fellow traveler that a certain campsite is certain to swamp you with hundreds of mice, you'd do all you can to steer clear of it.  We change our schedule to work it in.  When these tiny hopping cute critters come out to play at night, we stop everything.  Even eating.  That's saying a lot.  First fell in love with them at the desert wildlife park, where a sign demonstrating one of their survival techniques (peeing an infinitesimal amount so they don't need water), imagined their tiny pee particles making a 'plink plink!' sound.  We like our Plinkys.  And, of course, all the other Outback animals, from the mighty red kangaroos and saltwater crocs to the soaring falcons and darting lizards

The stars.  Ida had never before seen a shooting star in her life.  Then, in one night, she saw three.  Every night we see thousands more stars than I'm used to back home, and when we're camping alone during a low moon, it's simply spectacular.  I can always find scorpio, capricorn, and of course the southern cross.  I've even taken to the hammock a couple of nights instead of the tent just to enjoy them a little bit longer. And the milky way in all its glory, stretching from horizon to horizon, forming a silver rainbow above us, framing the southern cross, taurus, and scorpio (I can also find libra, capricorn, sagittarius, and hercules now; thank you google sky maps).

The wave. Love the wave. There's no official rule when to do it, no signs instructing people to acknowledge the drivers passing by the other way for the next 60 k's, but everyone seems to know. It's a recognition of camaraderie, of brotherhood, for the off-roaders among us. The more bumpy, hilly, narrow, winding, remote, empty, godforsaken the road, the more likely you are to see a wave. On a path like the single-lane back road from coral bay to cape range via lefroy bay, where one car has to pull up 30 degrees onto the bush so other other can pass, you're liable to get a "how ya goin?" or travel advice as well. The main road from Stuart Highway to Uluru? No waves. But the back road to Uluru from the West Macs? Now we're talking. After a long day, might just lift a few fingers from the wheel, half a nod instead of a full smile, but your companion for the moment understands. He's been there too. Fight on.

Old Australians. I've said it before and I'll say it again: old Australians are terrific. Our most frequent fellow travelers, they've offered us everything from torches and tea to jobs and jokes.  They're also the only people who don't treat us like backpackers; seeing my Western Australia rego and lack of any rental company logo, most ask me where in WA I'm from. It's refreshing. Once we list our respective nationalities, a comparison to the UN is inevitable; always feels a little special. And the physical activity many endure, climbing down slippery gorges and climbing up towering canyons, inspires us.

King me - Nico and gang do the not-so-red center

After dropping off and having a couple fun nights out with Kevin, Cameron and Sarah in surprisingly modern Darwin, it was time to head south.  Accompanying me for round three were Andrea, a Canadian friend from Perth, as well as Ida and Elina, Finnish best friends.  Remember that skepticism I had from the start about traveling with three girls?  Entirely unwarranted.  Heaps of fun.

We stopped first at the waterfalls of Litchfield NP, taking a final refreshing dip in the plunge pools in preparation for the desert to come.  A day's driving then got us to the historic Daly Waters pub, home of the most isolated red light in the world.  This was Outback Australia; the cowboy providing entertainment ended with a poem that praised American pride after September 11 and imploring the crowd (some 50 years older than us on average) to take some of that pride in Australia and bring it to glory.  Hopeful Asian immigrants didn't seem to fit in to his vision.

Next we passed through the aptly named Devil's Marbles before hitting Alice Springs, 'The Alice', for some car repairs and Ida's birthday.  One problem though, "Why is the red center so green?"  We had assumed until then that we just weren't in the right part yet, but if the capital of the red center wasn't red, what would be?  Should probably be called the pale green center after the ubiquitous spinifex grass taking over nearly every square inch left bare by the small trees and shrubbery.

Then west into the majestic Macdonnell Ranges, culminating with a sweet hike up and around King's Canyon, site of a famous scene from the cult classic "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert".  I saw the movie at Tim's house the night before leaving on the roadtrip, and I assure you that witnessing the actor made famous by uber-serious roles of Agent Smith and Elrond dancing to Mama Mia in a blue sequined dress is a wonder to behold.

And finally Uluru.  Towering over us.  Over me.  Sitting alone with it, I began to understand the special reverence it inspires in the hearts of its native owners.  Like most other visitors, we complied with their request to not climb the rock.  Instead, we learned about the mala (wallaby) men who first climbed up in an ancient ceremony, the bark carved out of a tree to form simple but powerful spear throwers, and an actual blind mouse (marsupial) that lives underground and carries its pouch on its back.  After, we hopped over to the Olgas, standing tall in the shadow of Uluru. Against the backdrop of the mountains, we saw a kestrel dive from the heights to catch its dinner in flight - the beauty and harshness of the Outback in motion.

A thousand bungled suns - Nico and gang do the Bungle Bungles and Kakadu

"I think we're missing sunset." "It's gonna be an awesome twilight view though." "Yeah." We park. "Alright, only a few people leaving." We walk in. "Ummmm, looks like everyone's leaving." "Suckers. They're gonna miss the sweet twilight." People look at us with pity. We reach the base of the lookout.
A couple fellow backpackers warn us, "The rangers are turning people away, but if you're quick you might get a look."

We're not quick enough; sunset at Ubirr is denied to us. We retreat to the campsite behind the famous aboriginal art site and are immediately attacked by a million mozzies.

This comes as no real surprise, though; sunset just isn't our time. Our first flat tire? Sunset. Our second flat tire? Sunset.

Sunrise isn't much better. We try for one at the Bungle Bungles. Cameron and Sarah don't make it out of the tent; Kevin and I snooze the first alarm. At the second we leap from our tents and are driving within a minute. We can't find the campsite exit and probably wake a dozen families. Finally, we race off. We park and sprint up the hill, gasping for air, certain that we'll miss it. 45 minutes after we reach the top, the sun rises over the rocks. It's nice, especially when Kevin descends and pulls out his guitar, but one thing is obvious: it would have been nicer at sunset.

The days, however are great. Black, white, and orange striped Bungles are spectacular, and Echidna Chasm is impossibly tall and narrow. The drive through Gregory NP has to be one of my favorites, and the aboriginal culture on display in Kakadu is nothing short of fascinating. And, last but certainly not least, the 6 meter massive jumping crocs of the Adelaide River just take my breath away.

From Croc jumping

Nothing but awe for those ancient killing machines.

Check back soon for King me - Nico and gang do the not-so-red center.

White men can jump - Nico and gang do the Gibb River Road

"Let's jump!" "It's definitely deep enough." "Is it deep enough to jump!?" The people swimming below shook their heads. Sharing an amused look with Sarah at the childlike excitement, so did I. We knew that our French and British travelmates, Kevin and Cameron, were a little crazy, but jumping 30+ meters into Bell Gorge was taking it to a whole new level. Half an hour later they leapt. "How was it?" "Amazing. But my bum hurts."

From Broome to Darwin 2

An portly elderly man approaches us. "Good jump?" "Not bad." "I might give it a go." We all laugh at the joke. Ten minutes later we watch in awe as he plummets, framed gloriously by the waterfall. We cheer. The old people cheer louder. "Good on ya!" We have a new hero.

Now with no excuse, I join the boys for a smaller albeit slipperier jump the next day at Manning Gorge. My bum hurts a little bit too.

Check back soon for A thousand bungled suns - Nico and gang do the Bungle Bungles and Kakadu.

Editors note: Some may have misunderstood my earlier post about the photos. My mates never said that they weren't sharing their pictures to punish me; it seemed to be more a matter of selfishness than of malice.  The first one to say it was on great terms with me and deeply apologetic; he just couldn't let go of his 'babies'.  As far as I know, they didn't share with each other either.

Four wheel domination - Nico and gang do the Kimberley

"Are you sure that this is the road?" "Nope" "Are you sure that this is a road?" "Kinda looks like a car's been here before." "You see the 5 foot ditch, right?" "Yep" Cameron wakes up. "Why are we chasing cows?" "Trying to get to a gorge." "Oh" Ten minutes later: "Maybe this is just a path for cows." Five more minutes. "Might be time to turn around."

Thus ended our short-lived attempt to reach Adcock Gorge, one of the many dicey turnoffs off Australia's most famous 4wd track, the Kimberley's Gibb River Road. We didn't care though; creating our own road over jutting rocks and tenuous ditch crossings was just as fun. Four wheel domination.

From Broome to Darwin 2

Going off-road has without a doubt been one of the highlights of the trip, especially from the driver's seat. There's just no feeling like climbing up and down sand dunes until you pull up the last one and face nothing between you and the ocean. Or diving headlong into rivers that you pray aren't too deep and feeling a moment of panic as the headlights go beneath the water before breathing a collective sigh of relief as you inch up the opposite bank. Or pitching to the left and right as you clamber over boulders as big as wallabies (or an actual wallaby in Kevin's case) and landing with a thud back onto Earth. Or taking any possible road to the beach to seek shelter in the dunes from the wind and the roving eyes of rangers, finding a private spot miles away from any other sentient minds. And, of course, visiting the beautiful spots many backpackers are forced to skip, not just the Gibb River Road but also Francois Peron, Red Bluff and Gnaraloo, the back road to Cape Range, Karijini, and most recently the World Heritage listed Bungle Bungles and Kakadu.

There are some downsides though. In the past week I've gone from never having changed a flat tyre in my life to changing two. Some days we'd open the trunk and discover that everything was covered in dust. Other times we'd stumble out of the car reeling with headaches from severely corrugated roads. Once we hit a bump so hard that the car suddenly died. A few minutes of panic ensued until we determined with the help of two friends we'd met the week before, who just happened to be driving by, that one power cable had simply come loose. And dealing with the air pressure in the tyres, though quite manly, can be dangerous guesswork and a pain to constantly adjust.

But I love it. We all do. And so does King Dave - it's what he was born to do. Half the time it feels like we're in a commercial for Jeep; I'll load up some of those videos up when I get a chance.

Check back soon for White men can jump - Nico and gang do the Gibb River Road.

A bang and a whimper - Nico and gang do Broome

Some trips end with a bang, others with a whimper. This one had both.

After sleeping near some massive termite nests on the way out of Exmouth, we made our way to Karijini's stunning gorges where emerging differences in schedules and travel styles led to some frayed emotions. I tried to be fair and reasonable, but underlying frustrations and, though it was never said aloud, I think different understandings of proper respect as well, drove wedges into our fun as deep as the gorges we clambered through. Patches were attempted as we left the park but a cool undercurrent persisted on the long drive to Broome via 80 mile beach.

First came the bang. Our most interesting night of the trip materialized from thin air when we bravely followed the sounds of reggae music on an empty street to crash an aboriginal/islander holiday party. Somewhat fearful at first, our initial hesitation was put to rest as we were greeted with open arms, genuine good cheer, some funky dancing, and delicious food and drinks (though the turtle and dugong cooking in the traditional manner beneath the soil were for family consumption only). Even that, though, wasn't enough to save us; we agreed the next day that the two who had been planning on staying with me would remain in Broome as I continued on. We hoped that it would enable us to end on a positive note.

I walk to a nearby hostel, hoping to put a sign up advertising my new lift offer; I now have three spots to fill and still hope to leave tomorrow. There's someone already standing there. "Looking for a lift to Darwin?" I ask hopefully; "You're kidding me" comes the reply. "Nope." "You have room for my friend?" "Hell yah."

Within half an hour my new team was assembled. I was on a high.

The whimper came that night, the last we were to spend together. One by one, my friends told me that they didn't want to share their pictures with me as we'd originally agreed and repeated throughout the journey. Those were the pictures I had been planning to share with you; my own camera had been broken from the start. I'm sorry to say that now I have none to display. Though sorely disappointed, I hope that the incident doesn't continue to cloud all my good memories of our adventure.

Check back soon for Four wheel domination - Nico and gang do the Kimberley.