Darwin

I stayed two nights in Darwin: one night at each end of my 4-day tour camping around the 3 National Parks close to the city (Kakadu, Katherine Gorge, Litchfield).

Darwin is new and modern. It still has the feel of a frontier outpost, somewhat provisional and earnest. I was almost surprised to find myself in the humid and hot weather of the tropics (25 degrees at 7 am) but not finding the sensuality and music I always associate with it -I am far from  Latin America and Africa.

It's an English tropic, as Australia is, in many aspects, a version of England and the UK. At times, it is striking how culturally close the Australians are to the English, in spite of the distance -but thanks to the immigration history of the country.

I enjoyed a stroll around the centre. Liked the "neo-art-deco" building of the Northern Territory Parliament. Visited the local Museum and Art Gallery -I already know that one of the things in taking with me from this trip is this new fascination with Australian Aboriginal art. 

I went out that night. It was Friday. The pubs were full and everyone was in a party mood. Leisure around alcohol with all what's good and bad about it. The centre looked like an English town on a Friday night, with streets fights and all the rest. 

There's a gay club in Darwin. It was more interesting than fun. Some drag queens still hooked to Priscilla and taking themselves too seriously. I'm fascinated by all forms of trans and gender-bending, but these girls were hardly camp -the were missing the point. A more than fair amount of  women of all orientation. Not many more men: some probably gay, others with women very close to their side. How did that work, I didn't stay to find out, although my queer post-structuralist self was more than curious. However, I had to be up and ready by 7 am the following day.

The camping tour was good, but I wouldn't say it was my favourite part of the trip. I truly enjoyed some things, like the falls and ponds of Lichfield NP (and the only decent eye-candy of the whole tour), the rock art in Kakadu, the Karherine Gorge, the wide horizons of the dry forest and the creeks and billabongs extending as far as the eye could see. However, not an empty landscape: it's full of aboriginal mythological stories, the failures of the white pioneers, and animals: crocodiles, wallabies, wild boars, wild horses and donkeys, dingos, birds, snakes and lizards, insects.

The camping was a notch above basic: we slept on beds in permanent tents. It many aspects it wasn't much different from the surf camp, if it wasn't for the absence of a beach and my fellow campers.

We were only three, plus the guide. The other two were an middle-age English couple from Kent. Nice and polite, and very middle-class. The guide was a more interesting character: a woman in her late 40s, three-time married, tough as a bloke. A real frontier woman, with pink and purple hair, and marching nail polish. She wouldn't stop talking about herself and using superlatives, but she wasn't annoying. She clearly enjoys her job and loves the area. 

I have made similar trips to this, and couldn't help comparing all the time. Maybe I have travelled too much.

I am now on the Ghan, going from Darwin to Alice Springs, on my way to Uluru. It's a nice trip. I love travelling by train -It's about the journey, not the destination. 

We have made a somewhat useless for me stop in Kathrine, for people to visit the Gorge. Hadn't we stopped, the trip would be about 4 hours shorter than its almost 24 hours. I used the stop wisely: wrote some postcards, found out why my eldest sister wasn't getting hers, took a nap, wrote some more.

I had an unexpectedly enjoyable lunch with two ladies. We talked about travelling, immigrating to Australia, love in times of war (one of them married during the Vietnam War, when her husband was at Chine Beach). 

Dinner and breakfast weren't as enjoyable, but still entertaining. It's a very social and friendly train ride, and Australians are open and naturally interested on the outside world.

We are about to arrive to Alice Springs. I'm spending just a few hours there, probably at the local art galleries. 

The landscape has changed, but not dramatically. After 1500 kilometres, I'm still not in the Red Centre.