Top End Part Two - We go chasing waterfalls... and hot springs, and rock pools

Leaving the vast lands of Kakadu behind, we made our way to Katherine, the closest town to Nitmiluk National Park. The heat continued to build and by now the sensation of cold had become a distant memory. Except for one luxurious icy bottled water purchase that we quickly consumed, there was nothing colder than room temperature to be had (and a hot room at that). Nights felt almost as hot as day and the "cold" water from the taps was lukewarm at best. With drinking water scarce we purified our own water, which was then heated even more once in the metal bottles that absorbed the heat from the sun as we drove or hiked. Even my contact lens solution was hot.

With such conditions we were overjoyed to realize most of our remaining adventures in the Top End were to include swimming. We started out with a trip to the hot springs on the outskirts of Katherine. Not actually hot, but fed by springs whose source we came to after a paddle upstream.

A French backpacker lent us his mask and told us to dive down to check it out - most of the river had been quite shallow, but at the source of the spring about five feet down was the entrance to a cavern, whose length and depth was impossible to determine despite the crystal clear water - Jacob of course wanted to swim in and explore but both the current and his parents prevented further entry.

More swimming awaited at the campsite pool another 30 km away, but first we dashed up to another sunset lookout to catch the final rays of the sun turning the steep walls of Katherine Gorge a deep red before fading to black.

In the morning we rented three kayaks for a full day exploration of the river running between those walls. Signs advised us that swimming was allowed, as long as we accepted the risk from the freshwater crocodiles that inhabited the waters. Generally averse to humans, timid and unlikely to attack unless provoked (so they are nice crocodiles), they didn't pose a grave threat, though the signs also noted that it was always a possibility, remote during the dry season, that a not so nice saltie might find its way into the waters. The hot sun and cool waters made the risk seem minimal so we all took every opportunity to plunge in, jumping off rock ledges, 

or wading in off embankments, though it was unnerving to paddle by the crocodile nesting beaches

not far from the green waters we were swimming in. We paused for snacks or portage breaks to get between the first, second, and third sections of the gorge. At the fourth section Paul scrambled across the rocks to see if we could portage further and explore deeper in, but on the other side there was very little water for hundreds of metres so we abandoned the mission and headed back. 

The current was gentle, so we enjoyed the easy paddling,

and Tom pulled his weight as well.

his tiny frame dwarfed by the giant cliffs.

We took frequent breaks to appreciate the stilllness, 

and occasionally sought shade under rock outcroppings

or in shallow caverns at the base of the cliffs. 

Our paddling day ended at 4 o'clock when the kayaks were due back, so we took the opportunity to hike up to the sunset lookout again, this time joined by a friendly German couple who we had met previously in Kakadu. They took our picture - we don't usually get one with all five of us in the frame -

then walked back down to the camp with us, where countless wallabies grazed, including one mother with her joey who wasn't afraid of people and continued to munch on leaves even as we passed mere steps away.

The next morning we left the park and headed back north. Our picnic stop was at Edith Falls, 

the first of many waterfalls with plunge pools at their base that made for great swimming.

A short hike from the falls at the top led to a much larger pool down below, and we had a long swim to the base of those falls, 

hoping that the sign promising very low risk was true.

Our stop that night was at a former WWII site and cattle ranch called Mount Bundy Station. We were shown our tent site not far from the banks of the river, 

but we were cautioned not to swim or walk too close because of the salties.

We were all a little nervous in our tent that night but the owners said they generally didn't come up as far as the campsites, and at any rate we hoped they'd go for the wallabies before us.

Just another night in the outback! Besides the crocodiles the owners warned us against the buffalos, saying we shouldn't enter their paddock unless we could cross the field in less than 10 seconds, which was how long it would take the buffalos to catch, stomp on and gore any intruders. There was a lot more innocuous animal life wandering about the acreage, including peacocks, 

some type of grouse, 

horses

and ponies.

Though mostly hot and dry 

there was a pool

and some flower filled trees that were surprisingly lush.

For our last few days in the outback we camped in Lichtfield National Park. Our first day we stopped to see the Magnetic termite mounds, 

so called because they are all oriented north to south which ensures a proper heat balance for the massive colonies within. This area was the only place in the world with magnetically oriented mounds, though we'd seen a different community - the cathedral termite mounds throughout Kakadu and at Mount Bundy station, surprisingly high in stature, 

We spent the rest of our time in the park going between brooks like Walker Creek, 

swimming first then hiking up through ancient cycad ferns to swim in a small pool at the top.

We hiked on a windy path 

to get to the lovely and cool Cascades,

and spent a night camping near the much larger Wangi Falls,

where this time a sign was posted that the freshwater crocodiles had been acting aggressive so to watch out and stay away from the left bank of the water where the most aggressive one had so far evaded capture by the rangers. We stayed in the middle and swam to the rightmost waterfall, 

though others weren't so cautious so we weren't too worried. At night the bats that had been roosting came out, swooping down to the water for a drink before flying up into the sky.

On our way to the next campsite we stopped to peer down at Tolmer Falls, not very full at the end of The Dry but what water there was fell from great heights.

Florence Falls was much more full,

and had great ledges for doing flips off of.

We walked back through temperate forest, passing trees fliled with giant flying foxes hanging upside down. By now we were able to identify the presence of a colony through the intense burnt and slightly rotten meat smell that the bats created, and could just search through the trees til we found the source.

In the evening we had a swim before dining brookside on pineapple and ramen noodles cooked on our campfire stove.

Back at the campground Tom played pretended he was waiting for the school bus and did his "homework", giving us all a rare moment of peace from his normal enthusiastic exertions.

Just before we left the park the next morning we walked to Buley Rockhole, where there were a series of rock pools, great for swimming. The heat was getting to us and despite the relief of the water Jacob and Kyra started fighting, then Tom. I joined in from pure exasperation so we turned the idyllic paradise into the site of a giant family water brawl until our tempers cooled down so we could all actually enjoy the swim and beautiful surroundings.

Then it was time to drive back to Darwin for our flight out the next day. We were glad to finish our time with a car and be free of the responsibility of driving, though the car was a necessary evil for the itinerary we chose. Biking in the north was out of the question due to the punishing heat and the merciless roads (though we did see a few very hardy cyclists for whom we had the utmost respect), public transport into the parks was nonexistent, so without a car, one is completely unable to access many of the most beautiful of Australia's natural reserves. As it was, our 2WD wasn't able to visit some of the more remote areas and we were limited to sealed roads, which didn't stop us from hitting a pothole in Kakadu, popping off the hubcap which we had to search for in the bush. Our tire subsequently deflated, fortunately close to town, so we went to a gas station and befriended another family who knew more than we did (our knowledge being less than nothing) about cars and tires  - they checked that we didn't have a permanent leak, and promised to bail us out the next morning if the tire deflated again. They were camping at the same place as us which was reassuring - being stranded in this kind of heat could quickly turn from annoying to life-threatening. 

Our misadventures with the car didn't stop there. Thirty km before reaching Darwin we stopped for lunch at Howard Springs Nature Park. To get to a picnic site we had to walk on a short bridge across a stretch of dark green cloudy river, deep and mucky with no swimming allowed due to high bacteria levels (not to mention snakes and other creatures). What better place to accidentally toss the car keys into? Here's some free expert advice from the Climenhaga Meier travel team - never let the children carry the car keys on a bridge over murky water. When Jacob came sobbing to us at the picnic site to tell us what had happened (and to throw himself prostrate on the ground begging for our forgiveness) we managed to keep our cool, until we phoned the rental agency and found out we'd be paying $200+ for a tow, and the highway robbery fee of $800 to replace the key. Of course we had the wallets and all our stuff locked in the car too. After Louise the park ranger convinced us not toss Jacob into the river to grope about in the dark and fend for himself against the snakes, she lent us her net and the three of us took turns digging down with the long pole. After an hour or so of the three of us trying I went to call our credit card company and left Paul digging with Tom at his heels repeatedly asking what the big deal was and could we please make him some lunch. Louise sifted through the black muck Paul dredged up with her bare hands and brought cold cups of water. After an interminable wait on the phone I was ready to harangue my credit card car rental insurance provider, who was about to tell me that we weren't covered for rentals out of country, when suddenly Jacob let out a victorious cry that Paul had unbelievably found the keys. Oh happy day!

The joy over our good fortune carried through to our last night in Darwin. We had hotwired a hotel and came up with a fantastic 4 star hotel with a/c, an incredible relief after all the heat. After dinner in the park, at a picnic table near a salvaged cannon pointing towards a WWII ship's watery grave,

we went back to our rooms, where the kids relished time in the plush beds and watched movies on the big screen, enjoying treats we bought them as bribery so Paul and I could have a night out on our own. We had a drink at a local bar and went to the outdoor Deckchair Cinema, a longstanding Darwin fixture, where we sat in comfy lounge chairs and watched the latest Woody Allen flick as possums darted by and bats glided in front of the screen from time to time.

The last morning before taking off we spent at the East Point reserve. After swimming in the salt water Lake Alexandria, 

we picknicked amongst the palm trees,

and went for a terrific walk that took us into the heart of the mangrove forest, a unique perspective we'd never had before, possible because the boardwalk was built right out into the water.

We sat on the platform for a while watching the tide come in and the waves lapping against the trees, and when Tom got restless he turned to one of his favourite pastimes, taking selfies.

The Top End was an incredible place like nothing we'd seen before, and while we could have continued to explore the amazing sights, sounds and smells of the outback, we were glad to leave the draining heat. I think it would take our Canadian blood a lot longer than a mere two weeks to adjust to the scorching conditions, so when it was time to go we happily flew off towards the cool spring temperatures of Melbourne.

Darwin and the Top End of Australia. 35 degrees in the shade, and did I mention it was hot?

At two am we stepped off the plane and into the heat of the colloquially named Top End of Australia. Even in the darkest night it was ten degrees hotter than the daytime heat of Brisbane, and the starry sky and quiet road on the way to our campground made us feel like we were already in the middle of the outback. In the light of day Darwin looked like a regular town, small in population but sprawling into the scrub surroundings. We went to the visitor centre to figure out the best itinerary for our limited time, then picked up groceries for a fortnight in the outback. After that we gave in to the protests of the kids and went to the wave pool at the edge of the ocean instead of sightseeing further. The heat was such that we didn't feel up to anything more taxing anyays, so instead bobbed up and down on the waves all afternoon - at least the kids and Paul did, as I felt seasick pretty soon after riding the swells in the blue inflatable rings and boogy boards provided.

  

When the sun started to approach the horizon we headed to Minhil Beach for the evening market, held only in the dry season from May to October. Despite the heat no one was in the water because of the constant threat of killer box jellyfish, not to mention the estuarine crocodiles (or salties for short) and sharks. Paul and I watched the sun dip into the ocean while the kids did cartwheels on the beach,

then we chose from the plethora of street food stalls and ate dinner (laksa for Paul and I, Dutch mini pancakes with ice cream and fruit for the kids) while watching buskers perform.

In the morning we set off in our compact rental hatchback, packed to the brim 

and even smaller than our East Coast rental - and certainly less impressive than the Northern Territory's monster trucks.  Our first stop, and first real encounter with the threat of salties, was Fogg Dam, a long road with a series of lookouts onto wetlands rich in bird species, with regular signs warning visitors not to walk along the road due to the presence of crocs. We all felt pretty nervous and would park right across from the protected viewing bays so we didn't have to venture near the banks a minute longer than necessary.

We were mostly glad we didn't see any crocodiles since the area felt so exposed. Instead we saw waterlilies and plenty of avian life, like the Jabiru stork,

and found a safer trail meandering through the monsoon forest.

We were greeted at that evening's stop, the Mary River Wilderness Retreat, by wallabies aplenty. They were all around the pathways and grazed outside our tent,

but quickly sprang away whenever we drew near. Though we were camping, the setting felt luxurious due to the green all around us, the pink and red blossoms on the trees, and the quiet pool, essential for cooling off.

In the morning we drove into Kakadu, Australia's largest national park. It was hot and dry, beautiful and vast. Since we were travelling during the end of The Dry (most sane people don't venture to the Top End after September due to the intense heat) we often had trails to ourselves, reinforcing the feeling of being in the wilderness. Our first stop in the park was the Mamukala Wetland, dried to a fraction of its wet season growth. We didn't feel as if we were in a wetland as we walked along the trail, keeping an eye out for crocs and dingos,

but when we reached the bird hide shelter, the much reduced billabong meant the magpie geese, whistling ducks, egrets and herons were concentrated in large numbers and mingled in the thousands with the water lilies. 

After we set up our camp and ate dinner at 5 (our national park campground had no lights so we wanted to get dinner ready before it was pitch dark), we scrambled up the rocks to the lookout at Ubirr just in time to miss the sunset. On the plus side, it meant that everyone else was on their way down so except for the park rangers we were alone to experience the majestic surroundings. 

It's hard to capture in a photo the magnitude of the expanse, 

but we were all stunned by the vastness and decided to return the next night and experience the sunset for real,

as well as the rock art painted in ochre and white thousands of years ago in the cave shelters ar the base of the stone cliffs. The paintings were astounding in their details, and many were xray depictions, showing scientifically precise placement of organs and bones of barramundi and turtles.

In the morning we took a cultural riverboat tour along the East Alligator River, 

a misnomer as there are no alligators in Australia, only crocodiles, whose presence we were warned of by frequent signage, 

and who we got to see up close and personal when our guide, Neville, steered the boat close to the riverbank.

I kept a tight hold on Tom the whole time. We played count the crocodiles but stopped counting at around 80.

Neville, an aborigine who has lived his whole life on the land, he took us for a brief stop into Arnhem Land, a remote section of the park belonging to the aboriginals and only accessible with a special permit.

There he told us about spear making 

and demonstrated an Olympic worthy javelin throw he used in traditional hunting, which could easily have skewered a goose had one been where his spear landed on the other side of the river, a considerable distance away.

He also told us about some traditional aboriginal uses of the land, pointing out the paperbark tree whose bark was used for everything from swaddling babies (he himself had been swaddled in it) to cooking food to forming a cup to drink the water that could be tapped from boluses (boli?) in its trunk.

Displays at the park's visitor centre we stopped at the next day outlined the important role of bush fires in the country, started by aboriginals and park managers early in the season when the fires have a rejuvenating rather than catastrophic effect. 

The climate of the north is incredibly harsh, with road signs alternating between flood warnings with water level indicators up to 1.5 meters above the road surface and fire alerts whose needles pointed to the current level of danger - the lowest on the scale was "moderately high" and "catastrophic" was the highest. We encountered a fire up close, with flames burning next to the road as we passed and huge billows of smoke filling the sky about 20 km from our campsite - we hoped a ranger would come and evacuate us and the other campers if there was any danger of it spreading. It really felt like Mad Max country.

After two nights in the west end of the park, we ventured into the centre and camped at the Cooinda Lodge where a large pool cooled us after and before our wanderings.  By the evenings the only way to cool off before we retired to the tent  was to shower or swim, though the heat would almost instantly return as the blessed cool of the water evaporated quickly away. Sleeping in the tent was hot for the first several hours each night. The ground would have been baking in the sun all day and we could feel the heat radiating up through the floor of our tent as we laid as still as possible and tried not to have any warming skin contact other - tricky when you have five people in a three person tent. By 1 or 2 am it would be cool and one or more of us would often wake at that time, glad for the break from the heat, and gaze up at the star filled skies through the screen of our tent. 

Because of the heat we camped without a fly, but with many actual flies. Other tourists had hats with mesh nets that they pulled down over their faces, but we had made no such preparations, and our natural insect propellant was naturally ineffective (though at least not carcinogenic!) so we had to endure the constant buzzing. We tried to maintain a positive attitude and remember that flies played a vital role in the ecosystem, but chiefly coped by constant swatting alternating with cursing.

Though we have big plans for multiday hikes during the rest of our travels, we scaled way back and limited ourselves to hikes no longer than 3 km, and even that felt like it was pushing it - the sun and heat were just too brutal. Despite my complaints, the rewards of the area were many. One walk took us to the top of the Nourlangie lookout in the central region of the park.

We again marvelled at the peace and quiet, and the tremendous landscape around us.

We had enjoyed our boat tour on the East Alligator so much that we decided to do another one called the Yellow Water cruise. This one began at 6:45 in the morning, with the mists rising off of the wetlands

and the surface of the river glassy, mirroring the trees on its banks,

pink waterlilies providing a contrast to the green of the trees and the blue of the water.

The area was teeming with birds, like the great billed heron, Australia's largest heron, sought after by birders from around the world,

and of course crocodiles, wallowing in the mud,

and resting on the banks,

some with jaws agape to release heat.

We also passed them as they swam alongside us in the water.  

Earlier the captain had shown us the life jackets in case of emergency, but none of us wanted to think about our chances bobbing around in the river in that event (but don't worry mom, he said if the boat got a leak he'd run us at high speed into the bank before we had a chance to sink).

We were grateful to be able to have done the boat trips as they were the only way to see the rivers where growth was lush and green - when on foot in Kakadu we didn't go anywhere near the rivers or their banks. Swimming with crocodiles was what we would do in our next stop... stay tuned!