A busy day today, called for an unwelcome early morning wake up call. I was tempted to roll over and drift back into the deep sleep from which I had been roused when the bell tolled at a bit before 7:00AM. It would have been even earlier, but just as we were switching the lights off last night, we realised that our breakfast supplies had been depleted and so a morning feed was out of the question this morning. The extra 15 minutes slumber that afforded us was welcomed with glee.

It was time for ‘The Beast’ to get a decent run today, picking Liz and Greg up from the caravan park at which they are staying, before meeting up down the road a little way with David and Heather. We were off on a day trip to Litchfield National Park. This relatively small national park is only an hour or so drive from Darwin, so makes a fantastic place to spend a few hours exploring.

Here we go. Into Litchfield National Park.

After stopping for the obligatory photos standing next to the sign at the entrance to the park, our next stop was to view some termite mounds. These giant mounds can be seen alongside the road when you’re travelling, but here in the park there are two varieties. The most interesting are the ‘magnetic’ termite mounds. I had Liz believing that these formations are formed facing due north, as a result of the iron ferrite found in the soil, before I let her in on the real secret. The actual fact is, they are constructed to take advantage of the climatic conditions, in an effort to moderate the temperatures within the mounds.

Bec and I at the termite mounds.

It wasn’t necessary to stop for too long at the termite mounds, and we were soon back on the road, heading for our next destination at Florence Falls. Bec and I have toured around here previously, so we had some idea what to expect, but since there are certain waterholes throughout the park that are designated as being safe for swimming, we were looking forward to taking a dip. Something that we hadn’t been able to manage last time we were here because of time restraints.

The car parking area at the falls is only a short walk from the plunge pool, but there is a capricious, steep, towering flight of steps to negotiate just to get down to the clear springs. Covered by a dense forest canopy, the sun light flickers through the foliage, to glimmer on the surface of the crystal clear water of the pond creating a kaleidoscopic effect on the surface. Wading into the shallows was enough to take my breath away, such was the frigidness of the water. After the strenuous climb down though, I wasn’t returning to ‘The Beast’ without getting wet, so I sucked in my chest, pursed my lips, and in I dove.

Once fully submerged, the water was more refreshing than cold. Being the inept swimmer that I am though, I stayed in the shallower area, where I could maintain my sturdy footing upon the sandy bottom, my legs surrounded by dozens of fish. The fish appeared to be big enough that you would be happy to reel them in if you were on a fishing expedition, but try as I might, I was unable to snag one by hand.

Bec enjoys a swim…

…while I eye off dinner.

As I busied myself in the inane game of grabbing a fish with my bare hands, Bec and Greg swam across the plunge pool. They were able to swim right up to and under the water that was cascading down the cliff face, getting a free water jet massage in the process. I would have loved to have been able to make it over there as well, but my swimming skills saw me flailing about exactly where I was.

When we had all finally emerged from the water, cool and refreshed, it was decided that the return trek up the stairway was an exertion we could do without. The other option was a scenic walk through the bush land and along side the creek. Distance wise, this option was about twice as far, but promised to be nowhere near as arduous as those damn stairs.

From Florence Falls, we backtracked a couple of kilometres to the Buley Waterholes, where a sign at the entrance to the car park helpfully informed us that if no spots were available, then the waterholes were busy and it would be best to come back at another time. Given that our time was limited, I was determined to find a spot, eventually nudging ‘The Beast’ into a way too small a spot, but at least allowing us to be able to get out and have a look around. The waterholes were indeed full of other bathers, but not so full we weren’t able to find a quiet spot for ourselves.

Buley Waterhole is another of the few designated swimming spots in the top end, which doesn’t necessarily mean that it is entirely free from the scourge of crocodiles. Just that none have been sighted here for some time. Rangers monitor all of the designated swimming spots on a regular basis, in an effort to relocate any stray crocs that are found, but that doesn’t mean that the occasional one won’t slip through the net so to speak. We weren’t going to let that worry us today though, even after witnessing first hand yesterday how aggressive these things can be.

The walk into Buley Waterhole is only a hundred yards or so from the car park, before it opens up at a series of a dozen or more waterholes of varying sizes and depths, all feed by a continual stream of water which cascades down the rocks from one pool to the next. It was a simple matter of picking out an uncrowded hole, before jumping into the water. Although jumping might not quite be the correct term for the slipping, sliding and falling action we all went through as we tried to negotiate the smooth, water slicked rocks surrounding the pools. Bec found it easiest to slide along the rocks on her butt, shuffling along like a baby, while Heather decided the easiest option was to slip and fall in. I followed suite, not long after I finished laughing at her, while Liz waited until she was trying to get out of the pool to slip, falling to her knees, leaving a chunk of flesh floating down stream and spilling blood into the water. And don’t listen to anything she says, I was actually trying to help her out of the water, not push her back in.

It was well worth the effort though, as we alternated between sitting beneath the cascades, allowing the fast flow to provide us with a massage, drifting about in the forceful current, or just sitting on the sun warmed rocks, with our legs dangling in the cold water.

The gang at Buley Waterhole, just prior to Liz skinning her knee!

It was owing more to the fact that we needed to get back to check on the dogs, than that we grew tired of swimming in the waterholes, that we decided it was time to head back to town. We had initially planned to check out a couple of the other sights within the park, but our swimming antics had kept us busy for much longer than anticipated. It was well worth it however, for the fun that we had.

Just in case you were wondering, yes I do leave my hat on while swimming.

The drive home was uneventful, and after we delivered Liz and Greg back to their accommodation, we were back at our own van, checking in on the babies. Having been left alone all day, they were none the worse for wear, looking like they had spent the entire time sleeping. I’m sure we worry so much more than what they do, although they were excited to see us, bounding about the van, bouncing off the walls and jostling about trying to get into position to get a pat or a cuddle from us.

We weren’t to be home for too long, before Liz and Greg were knocking on our door again. We are off to dinner in town again, and under the guise of ‘if you’re onto a good thing, stick with it’, we are returning to ‘Tims Surf and Turf’. Following the great meal we had there the other night, we were all looking forward to another feed of gigantic proportions, and we weren’t to be disappointed. With prior knowledge of the portion sizes served up, we decided to forgo entrees tonight, and plow straight into the mains, although that didn’t prevent a few of us ordering desserts. I’ll leave it up to your imagination as to who might have been responsible for that though.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.