Northern Australia in 2000.

15th April 2000 - Perth - Broome

SG: Plane departed a half hour late - engineers servicing cockpit indication. 3 hour flight over Northern wheatbelt, Meekatharra, Great Sandy Desert. Followed coast for last 20-30 minutes. Broome hot and humid. Several thunderstorms about. Booking foul up but we got a nice twin room. Rode down to tourist bureau then across town down to the old town wharf. Did the mangrove walk en route. Maureen taking photos and stopping to view friar birds. Lots of nice shells & crabs at Town Beach. Back to room for pleasant swim.

MG: The plane left late. In flight, I spent the first half hour yawning my head off and unable to keep my eyes open for longer than 10 seconds (I was in the window seat) and Steve kept leaning over me to see. I suppose it's just as well it wasn't the other way round or he'd have blocked the whole view. I wake up as the plane levelled. Bare brown paddocks below us with little bits of green remnant scrub, some very salty water courses. Sad-looking country.

It gave way to uniform green, with huge watercourses and rocky outcrops, the occasional straight road looking like a crease in a map. Little yellow lakes were visible, sometimes huge shallow blue-grey lakes amongst reddish or yellow soil.

The flight itself was 2 hours 20 minutes, 5 seats across and the plane seats about 73 people. I do believe there was more leg room than a jumbo, but this is not hard. Pretty comfortable.

Cloud set in about the same time the Great Sandy Desert should have started, we theorized. Then Broome area came into view, over water that was light aqua with violet shadows, colours I'd never seen in nature before. We could see the rocky outcrop where the dinosaur footprints are.

The landing was very smooth. The doors opened. Humid heat rolled in. Jackets were removed. We sweated onto our bikes and dumped stuff at the Kimberly Klub, then set off exploring.

Everything is lush green. There are few flowers, but there are bright yellow butterflies and brilliant little blue-violet ones that fill the breach. We see one black kite, which has beautiful brown patterning on its wings, and two birds which we suspect are some type of friar bird.

Travel is easy - everything is level. We visit the Tourist Bureau, book for a Monday Broome Bird Observatory Tour, skim past shops (mostly shut, it's Saturday) and check out the old Mangrove Walk (the operator had died). We discover there are at least five species within spitting distance, all identical.

Some form thick muddy thickets, some are low shrub. We spot some water spouting out of a crevice, but it stops when we get close. There are tiny crabs with one big yellow claw everywhere.

We head to the old port and have coffee. There is a small graveyard, on a small hill overlooking the port. A bright red torii gate. The tide is out and children play in the shallows. We wander down; tiny hermit crabs are everywhere - we saw one do a lightning-fast change - and shellfish (univalves) with foot and snorkel are scouring for food. There is a world in miniature underneath our feet.

Getting dark - we head for the Kimberley Klub, food and bed.

16th April, 2000 Broome

We didn't get straight off to bed - we walked down to Chinatown, checking out the fooderies and seeing dozens of pale geckos on the shop walls, under the lights. And one green tree frog that looked just like a plastic fridge magnet except it moved.

We discovered a 24-hour Coles Store. Hmmm.

The bar at the KK closed at 10 pm (loud music and loud voices). I used earplugs and Steve claims they finally finished cleaning the kitchen at 2.30 am. We both slept lightly and it was quite hot.

There's something moving about cemeteries. Broome's Japanese cemetery is full of small plaques in polished black granite or ragged sandstone, engraved in names written in Japanese, mostly. There are a few with Christian or English influence. All derive from the pearling days, nearly 900, and many were lost or died from diver's paralysis. There are gum trees and red soil, and I think few places must have looked more different from their homelands in Japan. There is one bamboo clump.

A Japanese couple arrive, and make an offering to the largest shrine; he is in traditional gold and blue robes, she in darker green. We are asked to take a picture of them, and Steve obliges. It is a peaceful, poignant place.

We then bike to Cable Beach (quite unremarkable) but on the way, we spot a lively bunch of bouncing birds and some wagtail-style. These prove to be grey-headed babblers and restless flycatchers, we also spot black swallowtail butterflies in profusion and smaller yellows with black trim.

Then we try for the remnant rain forest, which is overgrown and barred off by dead branches (deliberately). Hmmm. They are rehabilitating the area. The trees are more spreading, with broad dark leaves, and it takes no great imagination to think of a small climate change and the rainforest flooding back.

Having lost the waymarks, we bushbash back to the road and head back to KK. More Babblers are discovered; we theorize strong family groups. Corellas and crested pigeons are in the high school grounds.

We collapse for a little in our room, have toasted ham cheese and tomato sandwiches at the bar, because "sandwiches don't come any other way" according to the barman. We head for Gantheaume Point. As we leave KK, there are lizards that signal with forearms.

The road to the Bay is, um, challenging. It's been raining. Most of the road is firm sand, with the occasional drift; then there are the puddles. Muddy red puddles. Too sticky to ride through, so we walk. I never had mud this good when I was a kid!

We are aiming for 12.00, but the ride takes much longer; I think, about 1.00 before we get to the lighthouse. (2 raptors visible). We want to see the dinosaur footprints at low tide.

But it's boiling hot! Really, really humid, sweat running off us, dark oppressive clouds. We sit in the shadow of a large cliff rock and wait to cool down.

I clamber down to the beach past the rocks, ranging from black, red, pink. orange, cream - beautiful. I dabble in a pool, washing off red mud whilst Steve flakes out above. It is as hot as our arrival yesterday.

A breeze does spring up, and we backtrack down to beach access. Oh yes. 4WDs everywhere. There are a dozen tidal pools with panicky small fish trapped and playing follow-my-leader in the hope someone knows the way out - also sea slugs, live turbans, trochus, cone shells. Crabs too (manna-blue). We find no footprints, but the exploration is great fun. We have cooled down too. We bike back, the pools have shrunk and it's easier cycling.

Back to KK and more flaking out. Rain has fallen in our absence - pours down in fact, while I have a shower. It seems incongruous. We could have left the bikes out in it instead of hosing them down!

We wander out and seek tea early, as we want to see a film at the Sun Theatre "oldest picture theatre in the world" - 90 years? (SG: 84 - from 1916).

We dine at Blooms Gourmet Restaurant, but my squid rings are pretty average. Steve has a vindaloo curry. While eating, we hear a familiar five note call. Steve had heard it early in the morning, one call, followed by seconds later by another elsewhere, and so on in a huge circle. We thought it was birds. Evidence at the restaurant suggests that it is the geckoes! It is loud! Barking geckoes?

The Sun Picture Theatre has very old cameras on display, deck chairs, half-roof and half-open seating, a picture screen behind which lurk the loos. The screen had a palm-tree silhouette from moonlight, and at least five blotches, which we at first thought were faults, then realized, as they moved, were geckoes!

The film was good, too - "The 13th Warrior" loosely based on Beowulf, etc, and the 13th man is an Arab. Well-done & entertaining.

We walked home - oh, we noticed tree frogs, baby ones, stuck to a condensing shop window on the way in. A quiet walk back, a cup of tea each and Steve reading New Scientist while I write this up. Periodically disturbed by loud frog calls. Hmmm ... lots of insect noises too.

SG: There is a lot more lizard and bird life than I remember from my last trip. The daytime lizards are similar to the ornate crevice dragons of the south. Several were observed lounging on rocks beside the swimming pool during the noonday heat. Both days the early afternoon has been dire. Hot, humid, and, worst of all, still.

Finding the dinosaur prints at Ganthaume Point depends on the tide being lower than 1.5 metres which didn't happen today.

Not many black kites this year - last time there were dozens. Many more butterflies too. The little sods won't sit still.

Saw plenty of geckoes last time but I didn't hear any calling.

17th April 2000 Broome

SG: I'll leave today's bird list to Maureen. *I* don't do shore birds (except sooty oystercatchers and possibly eastern reef herons). We took the shore birds tour out at Broome Bird Observatory. The "all weather" road was marked closed. The shire had only just fixed one puddle that was bonnet deep on BBO's 4WD. Have a dozen species of shore birds were spotted in light rain. The kitchen at BBO had resident population of green tree frogs. All through the day, the drizzle has continued while the temperature and humidity remain high. Not too great a problem except when you come out of an air-conditioned shop. Picked up various postcards and Mum's present for despatch later.

MG: I am told it is not the Wet Season in Broome. I conclude that it must be the Damp Season. It doesn't rain hard, just persistent overcast drizzle, leaving everything grubbily moist.

We start off early, after sounder sleep, about 6.45 am, as today is the booked tour to Broome Bird Observatory. It collects people from the resorts - our pickup is 7.30. Urr! We do it without difficulty, as it turns out. I was cool enough to sleep with a sheet on!

The bus collects about seven more people, driven by friendly Adrian, and we headed out to the road along the wet weather route, which has to detour around Dampier Creek, adding kms to the trip. we spot a damp brown goshawk on the puddled muddy roadside. "Damp" appears to be the order of the day.

The road (because of the rain) is closed except to residents; this does not stop Adrian speeding along. He points out wattle regrowth after fire during the Dry; September last year is pretty dead, but the year-before fire has strong regrowth. I also spot some sandalwood and bauhinia.

We stop at the Shop, load up with spotter scopes on tripods and binoculars; I appear to be the only bird enthusiast admitting to it.

We drive out to the first cliff view, setting up scopes at a rock crowded with, um, whimbrel, bar-tailed godwit, grey tailed tattlers (developing breeding barring on chest), and terek sandpipers. The water gets deeper; the birds flap off, until only the tallest-of-the-tall - the whimbrel - are holding the fort.

There are several more such stops, including ruddy turnstones, pied & sooty oystercatchers, and eastern reef herons, obligingly light and dark phases. There are also an obliging row of Rainbow Bee-eaters.

Eventually, birded to death (add little terns and lesser crested terns to the list) we are returned to the BBO, to a large open communal room; toilets nearby ("cobs" and "pens") and rewarded with tea and cake; where we do get an overview of the BBO's activities and an aerial map; and a world map of the migratory patterns to look at.

BBO is the richest mudflats surveyed. For barcoding, they also do coloured tags, yellow is NW Australia and orange is Victoria.

Our questions (intelligent of course) are answered. The migratory birds know a few days beforehand when cyclones are coming, but they don't know how yet. Steve and I speculate later, about subsonics and electrical signals. There are green tree frogs sitting inside on the fans, and the rafters, most at home, thank you.

We are told a mulga snake has been visiting the common room for several years, but has never bitten anyone - it knows the rules - and the BBO asked CALM what to do about it. "Kill it with a shovel" was CALM's "helpful" advice. This did not go down well with nature-conscious BBO. The snake still visits.

Outside we spot a Babbler adding sticks to a bundle of twigs in a tree and have our suspicions confirmed about it being a babbler nest - we have seen a lot of similar structures.

We visit the Shop and do our bit to support the BBO; I buy a gouldian finch and rainbow bee-eater T-shirts; Steve also buys a rainbow bee-eater t shirt. (SG: and some books).

On the way back, I am told that the arm-waving lizard is known as a "Tata" lizard. The penny drops, after a while.

We have lunch at the Bar, opting for a ham, cheese, tomato and pineapple sandwich, toasted this time.

We then check out the Tourist Office, and headed into town, the shops are open this time. We pick up t-shirt presents for Steve's Mum's birthday. We head for the post office - there is a Queue. We head outside, it is still drizzling, and have coffee and cake. Check out the Book Shop - excellent range of books.

Back at the KK, I do the washing whilst Steve reads his ill-gotten gains - Kimberley rainforest, Craters meteors).

Grabbing a washing machine and then a dryer is a challenge, but I am ruthless and skilled. The clothing I take out of the washing machine has somebody's mobile phone at the bottom. Someone's going to be unhappy. I chat with an elderly Swiss lady who has been to Australia four times and whose friends, therefore, think she is rich, but, as she says, they don't realize she stays at Backpacker hostels. She says she finds she gets to talk to more people than in hotels. We certainly pass an hour effortlessly. We need to use a dryer because it is still Damp outside.

We head into town about 6.30, wearing our hats to keep the rain off. This was not my intention - I brought it to keep the sun off! It is a damp walk.

We wander about, checking out the eateries, but the town is quieter because of the rain. We settle for bar food. (Chicken kiev and grilled fish). A loud frog calls inside, amidst dripping puddles, sounding just like the door-signal frog at Australian Geographic stores.

We adjourn for cake and coffee at Henry's again. It is still Damp. Possibly Damper. We stroll home to KK about 8.30, having written up some postcards to our nearests and dearests. Write up the travel diary, listening to rain, frogs, music, laughter. "Damp" has indeed been the order of the day.

18th April, 2000 Tuesday - Broome

MG: We believe the rain has finished, although it's still overcast, and set out for the new Port Beach, intending to scout for red-backed fairy wrens. On the way, we see black-faced woodswallows and yet more corellas. As we reach the Port, rain falls. We dive into the local beachfront cafe, which is tiny, and order coffees. There are silver gulls, crested terns and petrels - shearwaters? visible. The wind picks up along with the rain. Fisherfolk start deserting the jetty. A container ship scurries out of sight. We are nearly greyed-in. We begin to wonder about cyclones. The jetty closes - but it's only for a container ship, not a cyclone. The cafe proprietor brings us a print-out showing the cyclone, and informs us that it's unusual for this time of the year. Oh, how nice. We end up taking a taxi back, but it is starting to lighten.

We dump our stuff at KK and post off the presents and postcards. It's stopped raining now. For the moment. There are many tourist clothing gewgaw stores, and eating places and the occasional upmarket jeweller/art store - there's even a specialist Broome Beads - but when the rain comes down, it's boredom city. There is one stick-thin Aboriginal woman yelling despairingly in the street, hitting a red rubbish bin with a stick. How do you get out of Broome? and where do you go, if you have no support group anywhere else?

Back at KK, it's raining. Again. We watch two tata lizards (one big, one small) sizing each other up at the pool. Bigun waves forearms, bobs head. Littleun runs away on two back legs. People drink, read, talk. We read New Scientist from cover to cover. Twice. It's still raining, except for occasional pauses to catch breath. No birds can be seen or heard. Lots of frogs though - heard only.

SG: We pack our cameras and rain jackets and head into town around 6.30 pm with a brief pause at the TV room to size up the weather. We seem to be on the eastern edge of a category 1 cyclone heading for the Pilbara. Forecast is for more rain tomorrow. Dinner is at "Hungry's" which has "light meals". Maureen has a high slab of chicken quiche (with far more chicken than egg) and salad. I have "three dips with turkish bread" which is also big at Perth's cafes at the moment. We head back hoping to photograph the small frogs that had been perched on the doors of the camera store the previous couple of nights. However, they fail to show up. We settle for other storefront denizens further along the street. Maureen is listening to her new CD player as I write this and the Quiz Night starts in the background. Maureen also has a new pair of 12x25 binoculars today after one of the hinge pins on her existing set failed. I looked up the satellite predictions web page with an approximate location for the Buccaneer Archipelago. A total wash out, nothing brighter than mag 8-9.

I had an interesting chat when we were at Broome jetty about the problems of mixing tourists with port operations and the fun when a cow gets loose during live cattle exports. The owner of the cafe (Lulus) appears to be Portuguese and replaces dropped biscuits and calls a taxi for us.

19th April, 2000 Wednesday - Broome

MG: Rain. Again. Still. Steve plumps for shorts & T-shirt & rain jacket (packed); I opt for my sunsafe bathers (neck to knee Victorian type) & hat, with a waterproof bag. We head for the Museum on foot. I test out my new binoculars and see a bedraggled raptor, possibly hobby, and singing honeyeaters and peaceful doves. It spits rain. We have coffee at the Town Beach Cafe; watching on osprey dive and hover, whilst we wait for 10 am and the Museum's opening time. Eventually the osprey dives - after several starts - I see the splash - and flaps up with a huge fish in its talons. It is making somewhat heavy going of it, possibly because the fish is less than impressed with the novel experience.

We check out the old cemetery on the hilltop. There are a couple of recent (1970s) burials, plus 1800's. Mainly sailors & captains & fisheries; anyone, I expect, whose life was close to the sea. There is even a plaque where the Dutch civilian casualties in the flying boat bombing - 73 in all, mainly women & children - were originally buried. They were shifted later, to Karrakatta Perth, Holland and Java. It seems so unfair - so near safety.

Then it's time for the Broome Museum. It has a seashell collection - I pore over volutes, miters, augers, tuns, and best of all, cowries. Not surprisingly, a lot of the history is pearling, and it has some excellent detail on diving costumes, hazards, and medical cures.

Other parts have old style house furnishings, including kerosene Aladdin stove, and I can tell you, it's very disconcerting to recognize something from one's not-so-distant-youth in a Museum. Hmph. I'm not that old. Not Not.

There are beautifully carved pearl shell too, all the ways it has been used, and a bit on Aboriginal artefacts - not lifestyle though - and the Shinju Matsuri festival. This is one of the few occasions Japanese women would come out in public, singing and playing and launching the little boats to commemorate the ancestors.

An aside here: Johnny Chi Lane advised that the Japanese pearling men all came from Wakayama Prefecture in Japan, nearly all from the same 20 mile stretch of beach; a town, Taiji. Apparently (1878?) a whale gave birth in the bay, and all the village's working men - about 60 - went out and netted and killed the calf. The enraged mother smashed the boats, killing all the men. This left a village with only boys and old men - a devastating blow at the time, which must have been about the time of the dislocation of the Meiji period. They struggled on, heard about the money to be made in pearling, and migrated to Broome, where they kept their tight-knit village community.

Finally finished at the Museum, we stroll down Saville Street, with only occasional rain, and spot the Nagabunya? Publishing shop and grab a brochure.

We decide to check the shops at Broome Boulevard. Using the time-honoured method of employing an apparent "short-cut", we tramp through unpaved bush track and puddles, go nowhere, and eventually take a narrow well-beaten pindan path along a deep raging gully. (I exaggerate a touch). We cut through the sports ground, the grass merrily squelching beneath our feet. Did I mention it hadn't really stopped raining?

We move into the shopping centre and we are transferred to Perth. Don't these shopping centres EVER change? Do they grow on a MacDonalds framework - identical worldwide? It's cold, too.

We have lunch here (toasted foccacia) and go out, guess what, it's raining. Heavily. Dark horizon. We go back in and get two books to read. We walk back on a pedestrian path which utilizes the driveways as drains. We are inured and wade through.

Back at KK, disaster! The cyclone has changed course, is now category 3 and is aiming more or less for Broome. We are supposed to fly out tomorrow. We warn Pam at the Derby Tourist Bureau (the trip is still on), we ring the airline, which has no idea whether it will be flying tomorrow, and we check out hiring cars. We decide to wait for the 4 pm bulletin before making further plans.

So I write up the travel diary. So it goes.

4.00pm. Poot!! Cyclone Rosita, 930 pascals, severe (260 kms) to cross between Broome and Bidjidanga; yellow alert and we've been told to get ready to evacuate. All roads out of Broome are closed. Category 4 and we've never been in any cyclone before. The bar is playing Dire Straits, hmmm. How auspicious.

It's times like these... I suppose every holiday has to have its little hitch. Maybe this will be our hitch, and maybe cyclones will chase us all the way across the Top End, but I hope not. It wouldn't matter so much if we weren't booked to fly out tomorrow, although it's late, at least, 15.15 pm.

So it should be allright, as long as things aren't flattened. Sleep is wished for, but I am not holding my breath.

Now the bar is playing "Hotel California" , you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!! Some sense of humour!!.

SG:The cyclone is expected to hit around midnight. The storm shutters are down and everything movable has been rounded up. We are told to have our luggage ready in case we are evacuated. At least one hotel at Cable Beach already has been. But then they are on the storm surge side. The cyclone isn't going to stop the karaoke night tonight. How sad! The WIN weather reports Rosita still on track and verging on category 5! Yechh! The door monitor frogs are going non-stop. I'm going to have another drink.

20 April 2000 Thursday, Broome -

Wow! Our first (and hopefully last) cyclone!

Actually the winds didn't seem any worse than the worst winter storms down in Prevelly Park, which used to make the building shake.

The preparations were challenging - there were two possible problems; winds lifting off the first floor roof, or storm surge flooding the ground floor. Take your pick. They suggested, stay where you are. So we did, but we introduced ourselves to our neighbours via the connecting door (left open) first. They were European, and seemed quite shocked that we were going to settle down and get some sleep. But they followed our example.

I was too interested in the strengthening winds to want to sleep, until about 12.30. The lights were switched off at 10.30. Yes, we slept.

Sometime in the morning, an eerie silence woke me. No wind here, but banging in the distance. We wondered if it was the eye (it wasn't).

About 5-6 am, noises of humans scurrying about woke me. We got up and checked the damage. Structurally, nearly nil (the sign and glass went) but our carpet was soaked, along with the curtains and protecting blankets. (Other people took refuge in the loo, on blankets and mattresses.)

Trees down everywhere. Including big gums. Power poles on a lean. Plant debris everywhere. We take photos.

Rainbow Bee-eaters are everywhere, but not immediately identifiable because they are fluffed up and hunched. We fail to identify three green parrots. The high school (which was the SES recommended shelter) was okay; but the brand-new gymnasium, where people stayed overnight, leaked like a sieve, according to the high school music teacher. His fruit trees suffered.

The power is still off. We learn from the communal radio that 5 or 6 older houses were de-roofed. The feared storm surge didn't get the town (8 metres high tide combined with cyclonic 3-5 metres expected surge).

And, best of all, the cyclone stopped the damned karaoke Wednesday night, after just one song!

By now it is 8am. Steve decides to go for a ride - I am too bushed and stretch out on the bed. At 8.55 Steve comes racing back - emergency! The plane leaves at 9.15! Huh? But our tickets say 15.30! Just as well we packed ready for evacuation last night. Mad rush to airport (close), checking stuff in, then race to barrier.

There we stand and wait. We spot a person with binoculars and a bird T-shirt, yes, it's Barbara Stevens, who is on our bird trip.

We troop on (2 single aisles) for a short flight. Broome looks okay for a cycloned town, but there is stacks of water visible on the flood plain and the water is dark red.

It is hot in Derby. Pam of the Derby Tourist Office, on the bird trip meets us; also, we get a lift to West Kimberley Lodge. We beg off for an hour to shower and tea-cup; the older couple running it are very pleasant. Flo tells us about the "stimulation" to the economy generated by the refugees. And arrogance of the lawyers.

The Suzuki we were to be shown the town in, fails. We ride on bikes to Pam's place, where Barbara stays, and walk down Villiers Drive. Yellow tinted honeyeaters sighted.

Derby is very utilitarian-looking; doesn't know what tourism is - it's Broome that attracts them. A courteous Aboriginal man, also named Steve, asks our names, shakes hands and welcomes us to the town. Now that's nice. Of course, we have tourist written all over us. We pause at the tourist office and then get taken out to the jetty which is full tide and very rough. We have lunch at a dubious lunch bar. It sports arcade games.

We retreat back to the Lodge. Steve does the washing this time. I flop. We watch TV news and see the Broome cyclone report and it's far more terrifying watching on TV than being in it! We are told winds got up to 150-160 kms, and that it was heading directly for Broome and then veered at the last moment.

We read for a while and then tried to sleep.

SG: Lots of trees down in Broome. One vacant pub in town got trashed and gets lots of footage on the news. We went down to the nearby Woolworths (Derby) and picked up some drinks for the trip. Better range than the local Bottle shop in Tuart Hill. The WKL has a LOT of frogs in residence, funnily, the two cats pay them almost no attention. I think I see four species. News reports Cable Beach gone. It looked okay when we flew over - just shifted east a bit.

21st April, 2000 Friday - Derby - Buccaneer Archipelago

MG: At 3.30 am we get up for our 4.00 am ride. This is HELLISH. Not even any sun up yet. Fiddling around collecting people. Stand on jetty. Wait.

The boat is a flat fishing boat, roofed, with 9 people. Plus crew. Let's see, us, Barbara, Pam, Nick & Sue, Jean, Melva & Brian. Half fishers and half birders.

It's a long but pleasant trip out to Buccaneer Archipelago. No birds. The islands are spectacular; orange-red rock, mangrove, scrub and remnant rainforest again. We spend the day birding, watching and dozing. Some people use the dinghy for fishing. We pull up at a lovely little bay with a powerful waterfall, clean and fresh. Lovely! Spot a fantail in remnant rainforest and wander up a cliff, wallaby droppings. Sit on rock & admire glorious view. Tide races in.

Lunch is fresh fish caught that morning. We go to a small bay, concealed, where there is a creek; scrambling up the top to where a hermit (x-x by deed poll) used to live - his hut is all broken down now, but it must have been very cosy once - the home was decorated with blue and yellow paint, and gardened areas once, all overgrown now. Only the rock borders show now. There are comments about what a pity it isn't still liveable - 3 to 4 rooms and shady spot. I wonder what life up there was like.

Then to the beach for evening (Burnicoate Island?). Lots of twitterings, not much identified - brown honeyeaters, beach stone curlew, striated heron, quail.

Our swags and sheets are supplied, dinner served (hamburger and salad). The sun has set fast - 6.30?; the boat is now in mud; we are exhausted. I go to sleep in mosquito dome - only I can't find the earplug bags! Back on unreachable boat! Steve nobly evicts himself for snoring, the moon rises; I sleep. I wake up every time I want to turn, but I go back to sleep each time. The beach is silvered. Then it rains, but not hard. Hmph. I pull the swag over me. Before, I had noticed cool night air with hot spots in it.

Did I mention we got to go through Hell's Gate, fast & bumpy, Steve and I, in the dinghy? Great!!

SG: By morning I had mozzie bites on my mozzie bites. I saw the Beach Stone Curlew - very plaintive. We went to bed so early we missed out on sweets. 7.30 pm turn in!!

22nd April 2000 Saturday - Buccaneer Archipelago

We woke to overcast sky. Whilst we pack, it rains on us. Again. We pack in darkness.

The swags go first. These are the robust canvas types you see in camping stores. (we help load in drizzle). Then the chairs and cookery equipment and then us, in two groups, forlorn on the shore.

We cruise for birds - herons, mainly - ever-present whimbrel, then to Mary Island and mangroves - gobies! The mud skipping fish - cute! One red-clawed crab. Many crustaceans of all sorts. Others caught oysters.

Now heading to Kyulagum Creek. I have seen many butterflies - including big greasies.

Scan for birds up exquisite creek, lined with mangroves and spectacular white quartz outcrop. Few birds, but a Grey Falcon was spotted.

Then more sea voyage to our beach; it is raining as we unload swags and mozzie nets. Some of us grab a tarpaulin and amble down under it to the beach and the cliff and wait. Rain stops, eventually - sort of - nets and swags get set up, with tarps. It rains, it gets dark. Supper arrives - chicken and rice, followed by peaches and yoghurt. After some chatting, we turn in. During the night, I disturb something - probably a flying fox.

23rd April 2000 Sunday - Buccaneer Archipelago

MG: A 5.00 am start. I think I'm getting used to this.

No rain this time. We load up and head off. The sky is pink in places. A pair of oystercatchers watches us. The osprey (a pair) on a rocky outcrop nest, are just visible.

Breakfast on board is egg, baked beans, bacon, and we cruise out to Whirlpool. Low mudflats sport birds (herons), but we can't name anything because it is so rough and the binoculars won't train.

We lodge on a beach and Steve and I walk the rocks, fascinated by the geology of the place. I take heaps of photos, of multicoloured rocks that look like they've had paints poured over them, and we see a large unidentifiable hovering insect - huge thing. There are tiny crustaceae scuttling everywhere and crabs.

Then to (Koolan Island Falls?) low tide; water, fuel, with protected shelter, and lounge in shallow pools in freshwater currents. The water gradually rises to boat levels. This has to be seen to be believed. The tides up here are amazing. What you see is no boat, then gradually it, just, well, rises up, roof first, then struts, until the whole boat is visible. I have trouble conceptualizing that much water roaring in and out, twice a day. Where we had had to climb a ladder to get up, we now wade through shallow water and step into a boat level with us.

We stay in for ages, looking at river sands and small yellow and black psychedelic striped shells. The shelter sports suspended signs of other visitors, makeshift things using thongs, floats, pieces of boards. We spot a white-quilled rock pigeon disappearing into a crevice. These birds prefer walking - on vertical cliff faces, as far as I could see - rather than flying. It's amazing, they are more like lizards when you spot them out of the corner of your eye or a distance.

Lunch is at the sleeping bay, storm cloud arriving! - lunch is freshly gathered rock oysters and freshly caught fish.

We cruise to Silver Gull. This used to be a watering spot for, um, BP?, with big concrete tanks. An elderly couple took it over five years ago, built a home (one large open room) with terraced gardens - I imagine "x-x" before it went to ruin. They don't appear to have any shuttable windows - no problems with rain or mozzies?

They sell carved polished pearl ornaments for $30 - $50. Credit cards accepted.

We sit in their tank, big enough to hold about 10 people, on plastic chairs, up to our necks in water. There is a cut away through which the overflow water pours and you can see the boat and a simply glorious view. I don't think I'd want to live there - too isolated, what if you get ill or your partner dies - but it looks pretty good for a holiday. I have been quite put off by the tropics - it means rains, humidity, mozzies, and sandflies.

It's getting towards sunset, so we return to our beach. Inevitable rainclouds and thunder and lightning roll around us. We eat; talk; and head to bed - and it rains. Heavily. Persistently. Steve snores heavily and persistently. This is not fun. I mark off each hour of non-sleep. There are occasional rain gaps, but it's heavy again this morning. Derby starts to look good, humidity and all.

SG: The waterfall was Croc Creek. At low tide, you climb up 3-4 metres of ladder to get to the bottom pool - about a meter below the big pool at the base of the main falls. At high tide, salt water covers both pools to a depth of a meter or so above. The pool is in a shady area with kitchen, now hung about with visitors' boards. Further up there are ledges just wide and long enough for a single bed frame, cemented in. This was a recreation area for the workers at Cockatoo Island. Silver Gull ((none visible) was the BHP emergency watering point. A natural spring passes through. Four tanks - probably 1000 gallons capacity with a jetty and pipewater to load a water tender. Tea was pseudo Mexican.

24th April 2004 Monday - Front Beach

SG: Nobody particularly happy this morning. We rigged the mozzie dome and tarp to provide maximum protection from the wind blowing the previous evening, however, the rain eventually came from the opposite direction!

I spent a lot of time holding the swag flap up to stop it blowing direct onto Maureen, 2-3 cm of water in base of mozzie dome. I used my pack to hold down the fourth corner of the tarp (rope not brought on shore) and all the contents are damp to sopping. All camera gear also damp. Left gear in morning and went out into Talbot Bay. Maureen, me and Pam cruise mangrove-lined estuary cruising for birds. I'm getting proficient at distinguishing sea eagles from ospreys. Various birds sighted (I didn't get a good look at the moving ones). We return because Pam is worried about the weather. People return to shore and opened belongings in sun. Lunch happens and the afternoon passes in various shade-seeking activities. Maureen & I hole up in a rock overhang reading. Later we reconstruct the now dried sleeping gear. This time with rope and driftwood staves holding down the tarp properly, protecting from either of the weather directions. Dinner .... mixed grill. I abstain from alcohol to see if it makes any difference. Some clouds come up over the cliff but no rain falls.

25th April 2000 Tuesday - Buccaneer Archipelago to Derby

MG: Much happier faces this morning. No rain, either, so we couldn't test our makeshift rain shelters, but we and Melva & Brian Harris' tents were complimented by others. It is clear, we pack - the final night and head out.

The morning is better - the fishing successful, we spot another frigate bird.

We (birders) inspect Gibbons Island, which has a lagoon behind it and is accessible from the beach. Pam bushbashes energetically (Pam is like that), Barbara retires soon, and I try going up the hill, but there are mozzies and it is very humid, so I retreat and sit with Steve, awaiting birds.

{The lagoon is very dried back and covered with dried out broad-leafed rushes and debris, it obviously gets pretty wet in the wet season}

Butterflies abound. I can't get over the number of species - yellows, blues, very few oranges like Perth. The island would be ideal for an early morning bird search and camp overnight. There is a shady nook which has been set up as a BBQ. In memory of ?Ken Keevil? who first set up Buccaneer tours and got killed when a marsh buggy got rolled.

We head to Cockatoo Island. It has a resort with beach access, $450 per night. {Can't see many tourists and you can't swim in the water}. We drink at the bar; get a lift in the ute to the airstrip and fly out in a twin engine 8-seater.

We now fly over what we have only seen at ground, well, sea level. It looks a terribly harsh place to be lost in. {Bare ridged rock like exposed bones, dense mangrove, thick scrub, huge tides. Few flat places or lakes}.

We return to the West Kimberley Lodge, shower and get picked up by Pam and Barbara. First, though, Barbara Botanizes the frogs. You see, Barbara is a twitcher extraordinaire, and is collecting species (Bird, frog, butterfly, reptile) with a vengeance. The first Derby night, before the boat trip, she had diligently searched for frogs (at Pam's place) and found not a one. I told her we had so many, we were nearly stepping on them. So she Botanized. We dragged her away for tea at the Wharf Restaurant.

We dragged Barbara away from the geckoes and lizards at the Wharf Restaurant.

Most of the menu - half - was fish. Having had fish for the last five days, we avoided fish. Steve and I had lamb cutlets. We had wine. We had had antihistamines. Our eyes would barely stay open. We pay, retire, and sleep soundly.

SG: for "botanize" read "terrorize" throughout.

26th April 2000 Wednesday - Derby.

Day is spent washing and dawdling. I see orioles and yellow tinted honeyeaters and a sacred kingfisher. We book the next leg to Katherine. Pam takes us on a cooks tour of the sewerage ponds, the local bird mecca and the bower bird's bower, which sports a green plastic soldier amongst its treasures, plus some seeds Pam says are from an introduced pest species which the bower bird is spreading, because it likes the colour - greens and whites.

We dine at the Drovers Camp. There are interesting people at the Drovers. We see a woman who looks and sounds - and eats - just like Henry Crabbe out of Pie in the Sky, and an older, thin woman who runs the local casino - the TAB lady, as she calls herself.

27th April 2000 Wednesday? - Derby

MG: Our bus trip out is at 10 pm tonight - aarrghh hell!

We post off stuff to home. We have brunch. We visit the Wharfinger Museum - set in an early style colonial home with 3 sets of exceedingly stubborn french doors - the aviation part is good, {giving eye-witness accounts of being stranded out in the wilds - sandflies, mozzies, humidity - gee, that sounds familiar}

In the morning, using Pam's borrowed Suzuki, we bird at the sewerage ponds, which have thick lush reeds, grass, and mozzies, which council was spraying as we arrived. We see few waders (there's still too much rain about) but we do see wrens, yellow tinted honeyeaters, raptors, masked plovers, crested pigeons, and black faced woodswallows.

We inspect the newsagents, buy chocolates for Pam and deliver to her home (Melva & Brian in residence) then visit the Royal Flying Doctor Service display, mainly history of the Service, examples of the medical kits, and some eye-witness reports of their emergency dashes, and deaths.

By a leisurely 3.50 pm, we have exhausted Derby's offerings. We have afternoon tea. Melva catches up with us and we had back to Pam's place, getting a cup of tea, conversation and dinner as well to while away the hours to 10 pm.

So, of course, the bus is late - two hours late. The roads south of Broome are terrible, they say. The mozzies are bad. We chat with a Japanese guy. We get on board.

SG: We also saw a jabiru stalking the salt marsh outside the bunds. Overhead a trio of masked plovers circled for more than half an hour, giving what sounded like alarm calls. The reed beds are naturally grown as a response to the continual outfall of secondary (?) treated sewerage water from the Sewerage Ponds. They are restrained on each side by two 1/2 km long bunds. The final outfall is to a shallow lagoon.

28th April 2000 day? Derby - Katherine

MG: Once on board we try to sleep. The roads are surrounded by water; birds take off, but we don't recognize them in the bad light.

I think I get some sleep, using my jumbo jet position - slide right down in the seat, rest knees on back of seat in front, and relax. It works. Sort of.

We hit Halls' Creek in daylight about 7.15 am. What do people DO out here? The local roadmart has a sign that it won't serve kids between 8am and 2pm because they should be at school. The butcher next door claims it sells tough fatty meat. There is a tired, littered look to the place - only the school looks clean - perhaps its not used? A dog plays with a gumball; black kites and crows circle.

At least it looks green - what on earth does it look like in the dry?

We head off - another 1/2 hour lateness added. Katherine arrival is supposed to be 5.30 pm.

The countryside - boabs have vanished, open gum and grass is appearing. Cattle country. Rolling hills. Cattle.

It reminds me very much of the "Billabong" books my mum gave me to read as a child - Norah, Jim and Wally? riding their horses over the land.

We stop at Turkey Creek. It has one building and some Aboriginal people get off.

I spend time writing up postcards.

Kununurra is green, tidy, and looks heaven after Halls Creek. Pity our brains are dead. More kites and peewits. We lunch and head to Katherine. Timber Creek is a good spot for tours, by the looks.

SG: The land changed overnight from the pindan scrub near Derby to a spinifex, rock and scrub ensemble very like the Pilbara. Every floodway from Derby to Halls Creek was water-damaged, flooded, or both. As we headed north from Halls Creek to Kununurra, the scrub changed to a more subtropical blend of eucalypts and boab trees. Kununurra was cleaner and more pleasant -looking than the dump at Halls Creek. Lots of helicopters at Kununurra airport.

29th April 2000 Saturday - Katherine (NT)

MG: We got in on 28/4/00 at about 9 pm. We staggered off, and were glad to find the Palm Court Backpackers with a courtesy bus to collect us. We are Not Hungry. We wash, (ensuite) make beds and sleep. Soundly.

Morning comes and we are, for once, refreshed. The time zone is 1 1/2 hours advanced; it is clear and seems plotting heat.

We walk down to the post office and post my five cards. We walk to the Tourist Office - open at 10pm; we have an hour to waste. We buy the makings of tea from a camping store, a New Scientist and a butterfly book. We have breakfast. Tourist Office is still closed. We ask the a travel agency about hiring a car - "don't know!". We rent a car from Hertz for four days. The Tourist Office is open! We book a Katherine Gorge tour at 1pm; and the next three nights' accommodation.

We drive to Niternjuk(?) (Katherine Gorge), about 1/2 hour. Spot straw-necked ibises hiding in swamp. Woodswallows.

The Park is well-set out. The information centre tells us about the Aboriginal People and Wet & Dry. We have lunch on the balcony, and joy of joys, a Blue-faced Honeyeater makes an appearance!! Beautiful! - two-tone eye shadow and greeny-gold feathers on its back. It is as fearless about raiding tables as Splendid Fairy-Wrens. A Great Bowerbird also lobs in and we have a chance - at last - to see it properly, rather than skulking in bushes. I can see no famed "lilac crest".

The two-hour boat trip (only 4 passengers) glides up the river gorge. High orange-brown cliffs, mangroves, palms, wattles and gums. Waterfalls. We also visit an overhang with an unhappy bat in a roof hole, and Aboriginal rock art. My camera has failed. We spot a Little Eagle and a Peregrine Falcon.

Back on shore, we change shoes and tackle the Lookout Loop Walk. (1 1/2 hours, 3.2km?) "moderate grade". It's fairly hot, still, at 4 pm, but the walk is not too arduous, shows us some new flowers, a beautiful lookout point, and takes us back to the boat area.

Sulphur-crested cockatoos are stalked by Steve. More Blue-faced Honeyeaters masquerading as Mudlarks. Attracted by calls, we wander to the caravan park and spot a bower with male and female in attendance - green broken glass and white plastic. She is choosy, he raises his crest and - voila! - there is the "lilac" crest, only it's vivid pink to my eye. He ducks and spreads his wings, carrying a round seed ball in his beak.

We watch, then move on to the calls, which are ..... flying foxes! Roosting (IN the caravan park) and making a racket. Some have young tucked inside their wings and when they try to settle restless offsprings, it's hard to tell whose wing is where. Another manages to scratch the middle of its back with a wing-finger. Another, in the sun, has russet-brown fur.

We also spot several blue-winged kingfishers (SG: kookaburras) who consent to be photoed.

Getting duskward, we drive to Palm Court Backpackers. Walk for tea - a Thai Restaurant with a roaring trade and slow service - like their front door - and by 8.30, home to relax.

Some day!

30th April 2000 Sunday - Katherine to Kakadu

SG: The music continued to 11 pm. Perhaps it was to mask the speedway sounds in the distance. We turn in when the music stops and sleep til 6.30-ish. Not as refreshed as last night. The Backpackers ...[! Maureen just braked sharply to allow a labouring Pheasant Coucal to cross the road. All the aerodynamics of a brick with a drogue chute.]... provides a tub of pancake mix every morning (MG: yum!) in the kitchen. Maureen makes tea and I stand waiting for the Japanese lad with the hot frying pan & best burner to reach his 2 pancake limit (MG: he did about 4 times that, actually). Maureen eventually prods me into action and pancakes are produced. We pack the car and head for Pine Creek with Maureen driving.

MG: We sleep soundly again (such words are rare). Out on the road, me driving (I need to add a State to my list) and the roads are good. Raptors plentiful. My camera consents to work again. We stop at Pine Creek, an ex-gold mining town best described as having tremendous potential.

We lay eyes on a figbird, at long last, check out the Water Gardens which have hot-pink water lilies, which Steve photos, plus masked plovers and at long last, Double-Barred Finches. We head to the Mining Lookout, take a premature turn up to the water tower and discover Red-Tailed Black Cockatoos on burnt ground, which somehow seems singularly appropriate. They flap off when we arrive but soon regroup. The males (I assume) have bright red tails and the females, paler yellow and orange tails with absolutely no yellow speckling on the body.

We locate the correct lookout and chat to a local woman, working at the mine. The lake is artificial (Pine Creek was diverted to fill the open cut mine) and she tells us about the council's plan to use the water for gardening during the Dry; points out the old Sturt Highway, the degree of reafforestation and the location of the old mine building. She also tells us all the pines at Pine Creek were cut down during the mining days and no samples remain - she doesn't even know the type and seemed curious herself when I asked the species. She said she'd look into finding out - who knows, it may have been unique, as Steve said. (MG: addendum - it doesn't look at all like pine country).

We take a look at the old Railway Station, (filled with stuff from rubbish sites, I suspect - broken crockery including Chinese maker's mark - and also filled by a large portly bearded gentleman who is woken by us dropping money in the donation tin.) It makes mention of the Chinese cheap labour, from Singapore, in 187?, but virtually no other information about them, oo, the frustration! I wonder if there are any stories in Singaporean families. It does give some info on Aborigines who pan-mined, though. There is a train with a very comfortable carriage - comfy seats, wooden polished panelling, and I wonder if it is first-class.

We visit the Stationmaster's Residence, which has inner walls with clearance above and below; a storm shutter on the outer verandas. Three boys hit us for a donation of $1 each and give a spiel about the railway - a rort, I suspect; but the older boy says he lives there with his mother (there is bedding on the floor and cooking equipment - a lived-in look - and the brochures say it is a YHA hostel, so maybe she minds it. It looks a spartan existence for a boy and his mum). (No luxuries.) I am glad someone is looking after the place.

We take a look at the mining equipment, then head for the bird park (although I think we did this before the railway - oops!)

The Bird Park has caged birds and Devonshire Teas. I jokingly say, positively your only chance to see live Gouldian Finches, ho ho. The first cage we see has....Gouldian Finches. Um. They are as pretty as the illustrations. There are also Golden Shouldered Parrots, which the owner says, has one female sitting on three eggs. The Gouldians are new. There are Turquoise Parrots and other ones I only distantly recognize from the Bird Book, never expecting to see them.

The Devonshire Tea is pretty good, too.

The owner complains about Kakadu development fencing them off from areas they used to visit - and would like to take their kids - and they have to pay $20 a visit. Having lived there 30 years, he is not impressed.

We head for Kakadu, which mother says is over-rated. We pay our $15 a head and enter with a pretty entry ticket each. We drive through more familiar open forest, but with rich green leaves rather than khaki.

There is still plenty of water about and we see egrets and raptors. No crocodiles, poot. We play Vision of Escaflowne on the vehicle CD. The sun is hot and clothing dries on the back seat. We arrive at Cooinda - Gagadju Lodge.

Oh, the luxury! Pre-made beds! Towels! Soap! Ensuite bathroom! Tea & coffee facilities! All only three times the cost of Palm Court Lodge. Oh, I can't cope! Gimme more!

We walk about, trying not to trample baby lizards, and inspect three types of ant on the tables outside, before the mozzies drive us in. We book a 6.45 am cruise and a picnic hamper. We faint from the Mimi Restaurant prices ($20 main meal without vege, although it does have bread & butter pudding at $8 a head. We are not THAT hungry). We drink at the Bistro - fortunately, the Bird Park man has warned us about the prices. We retire to the mozzie-free luxury apartment and complain about a flickering light, and get instant service. Mm, I could get used to this.

We dine at the Bistro, retire to mozzie-free comfort, and read.

1st May 2000 Monday - Kakadu to Darwin

MG: At last! I've finally seen a mistletoe bird!! 12.30 pm and 2000kms from Perth and success at last!!!

Being masochists at heart, we arise at 6 am because we have booked a 6.45 am Kakadu "Yellow Waters" boat cruise. It has moved onto summer timetable even though the weather is still operating on a winter timetable.

It is at least light. Masses of people arrive, half being shepherded into a second barge in an officious manner. With no idea who they are, I make a joke about German tourists on masse. The tour guide speaks German. Ulp. Many a true word said in jest. Their tour boat guide hasn't turned up yet, which leads our tour guide to do a quick rush back to the hotel, to roust him out.

We head off. Whistling kites and white-bellied sea-eagles are pointed out. Everything is still in full flood - the walkways are under water, which they're not supposed to be in "summer". We nose through pandanus, red cabbage trees palms, paperbarks and gums. More whistling kites and white bellied sea-eagles.

Jacanas (comb-crested) appear, a pair - trio - of Forest Kingfishers, which are a vivid electric blue, far more impressive than the Bird book suggests; more bloody whistling kites, a night heron, bee-eaters, a jabiru, green pygmy goose, burdekin ducks. The reflections of the paperbarks in the water are glorious and we see one croc ("laughing log") snoozing on a beach. It is pleasant enough, but I do not get the chance to pick the small bush birds.

We beat the crowds to a light breakfast, collect our lunch hamper and check out. Did I mention there are tiny lizards everywhere yesterday, on the brick paving?

We check out the local Aboriginal Interpretive Centre first. This describes the six seasons and shows, at last, some handicrafts, especially the weaving, which is really impressive, and dyeing.

We go to Nourlangi? Rock next - an excellent imposing rock outcrop, with a superb cave in which people lived during the lightning season. I estimate at least five fireplaces. There is plentiful artwork too - some quite intricate; colours of white, yellow and red ochre - no black, or at least, not preserved. One was not permitted to "touch-up" the existing paintings, but is was allright to draw over a faded or fallen one.

Here we spot a rock pigeon, quietly wandering along the path; we assume chestnut-winged; Steve goes ahead to photo it and I hang back to warn two people behind not to alarm it as we're photoing it, fully expecting them to retreat...."rock-pigeon???" they exclaim and (quietly) dash forward. They turn out to be birdwatchers too and are as keen as us to observe them. I am pleased we were able to show them.

Heaven must have been smiling, because back at the car-park - trying to locate a twittering wren-like call, I finally spot an unmistakeable male Mistletoe Bird (nowhere near mistletoe) with his bright red breast and black stripe. Oh, rapture!

We finish up at another Aboriginal Interpretive Centre and head for Darwin, past kilometres of flat flood plain, heavily grassed. MORE whistling kites. We spot magpie geese and an immature jabiru holding down a tree. People fish from the bridges, even though signs say not to. Flat kilometres roll on. We refuel once, and eventually reach citification. It is like Kwinana Freeway Rockingham end - constant traffic lights, industry, then shops. Urgghh, the contrast!

After a false start, we locate our hostel at a very extensive No. 50 Mitchell Street frontage, and settle. It is ultra-humid. We check out The Esplanade and notice that Darwin is above the sea on a high plateau. We cruise the streets and eventually plump for dinner at the Sugar Club, very stylish and nice atmosphere. A cruise back, still pretty humid, but the airconditioner is on (remote) and it starts to make the temperature sleepable. Steve is sleeping, anyway, and it's not even 10.

SG: Jacanas are neat but Forest Kingfishers are really impressive. More whistling kites than you can poke a stick at and our first darter for the trip (supposedly all through where we have been). The Interpretative Centre was pretty good too. I had the only practical description of the moiety system I have seen so far. The angaband? rock shelter was obviously highly desirable real estate.

We sit outside the less impressive Boule Visitor Centre and eat excellent hampers from Cooinda. Very nice woven goods on sale, so we buy the only one we might use.

2nd May 2000 Tuesday - Darwin

MG: It's RAINING!! How are we supposed to go birding in the rain?! I was only joking about needing to wear my bathers in Darwin! Argh!

We whip down to the TV room with teas and check there is not a cyclone coming.

There's no indication, but having been in Broome we are suspicious. Steve frowns darkly, says the rain is getting heavier and suggests I check the Yellow Pages for freight companies for the bikes.

We have several errands; post office parcel bags to buy, bike to fix at bike shop (my 1 & 2 gear won't work), book a flight to Cairns (the bus trip is horrendously long) and see if we can track down a Previews magazine supplier. Oh, plus sightseeing, if possible.

Post Office is okay, films, and a flight booked to Cairns tomorrow at 6.30 am. The bikes being fixed (lube! Only lube required!), we ride to the Botanic Gardens, which were originally a testing-ground for growing plants. Heavily shaded; it's probably bliss in the hot & dry.

We (eventually) got to the Museum & Art Gallery, pay through the nose for a light lunch, and investigate the Museum.

I am sure they have shrunk the birds. The taxidermied bodies seem awfully small. This is in the Natural History part. We idle down another corridor and spot a "Chinese in Darwin's History 'Sweet and Sour'" exhibition. Now, we had been wondering about the Chinese on mining fields for some time - you hear they were there, then vanish without trace. Where did they come from? How did they live? Where did they go? This exhibition is the first to give us some idea, because Darwin has such a strong Chinese tradition. There are family photos - the oldest, some taken in China, traditional dress - one woman I am sure has bound feet - then the Australian photos. Now, it is my theory that there was a standard family photo in those days and all they did was change the faces, because I can't tell Steve's, mine, and the Aussie Chinese photos apart!

We have a look at the boat displays, too - I would have liked more info on how they lived aboard these things, especially the family groups - where did they all sleep???

We depart and ride along the coast path, and spot three large lizards on the cliff side.

In one of the arcades this morning there was a good display on the Darwin 1942 bombings - whole lot of telephonists / graphists got killed - looked lie a whole family in one instance - mother, father, daughter - I guess a prime target. There were more waves of bombings than I realized. There were some strange comments about "panicked civilians immediately leaving town" and suggesting (for the times) Australians shouldn't do this sort of thing, and protestations that it was not panicked, it was an orderly evacuation. Seemed perfectly sensible to me to flee a bombed town - and I'll bet there wasn't any official info available about what was happening. They mentioned extensive looting too, and it wasn't til we got to the Chinese exhibition at the Museum that we discovered it was Chinatown that got looted - then burned to disguise the looting. Heart-breaking for the returnees.

The "Sweet & Sour" exhibition also had a bit about rebuilding the temples - if an Act of God destroys, you may rebuild; if not, you must restore. Looting is not an Act of God, so they had to restore from just two beams. Then Cyclone Tracy in 1974 knocked it flat and they were allowed to rebuild at last.

And another thing out of this; Chinatown was built on prime real estate. Some rich greedy gentlemen declared it a slum ("looks good on the street frontage, but is really crowded and insanitary behind") so, surprise, surprise, it gets resumed, knocked down and used by those same rich greedy men. 1910's I think. Of course, 50 years later they were still doing the same thing in London "slums", destroying whole communities - all for their own good, of course.....

We go back to town, post excess books, pick up photos, confirm tickets.

Collect car, drive to Casuarina Shopping Centre to check Previews (run by an ex-Fremantle public servant) and extract order info whilst chatting about good and bad comics and videos, and discovering the local Uni group runs an anime session.

We then head north to Buffalo Creek. This is a Fishing Area, complete with 4WDs, trailers, rubbish and (SG: flyblown) bait. We spot small brown twitters - a yellow silver-eye is identified and glory of glories, one I didn't expect, was a Red-Headed Honeyeater, which is really pretty. We trek through mangrove swamp, slapping at mozzies and wiping the sweat from our brows. More twitters, but none consenting to be identified.

We then head back south to East Point. This is a very long slow drive over speed humps and as the sun sets, we view the WWII gun emplacements. Joggers, bicyclists, brisk walkers, all unlit, abound along the path.

We return car and eat at the Sugar Club, indulging in a proper meal - beef rendang with saffron rice with cucumber yoghurt for me, a tower of lamb roast ribs for Steve. We follow up with sweets (Inca Gold cheesecake and Raspberry ? sponge for Steve). Service and atmosphere is great!

Home to Melaleuca Lodge. Hmm. No aircondtioners tonight. Open shutters. Noise comes in. It is going to be a l-o-o-o-ng night.

3rd May 2000 Wednesday Darwin - Cairns

We awake - actually, we're already awake - it WAS a long night -noisy music, racing twin cam games, fighting at 5 am, prepacked and leave for airport by 5.25. It's dark. At least it's dry. Drop off car, get ticket (SG: Qantas did not cover themselves with glory. I thought they had lost the booking for a while.) get on plane. It stops at Gove. More uniforms (aside - we think Interfet troops must have returned to Darwin whilst we were there - accents & uniforms).

Weather so far is good, which probably means that Cairns is raining....

There's a stopover in Gove - sea and unremitting rainforest. We have breakfast, we have morning tea, and get chatting to our seat neighbour who has just come from East Timor, on a Planning Institute Tour, talking with the Timorese to see what they want - which the Timorese found an unusual experience. An interesting and rewarding experience, we chat about cultures, books, media (our Broome post-cyclone pictures are flourished) and history. An interesting chap, but I never did get his name....

We land; for once, the temperature is not steaming hot and humid as we get out. Cairns is surrounded by ranges clothed in dark green and itself has an open palm-tree feel. We book into Uptown Backpackers, who promise quietness. We hope.

They collect and deliver us and we do washing and collapse for an hour or so, before walking into central Cairns.

The shopping area is huge, new looking, vibrant. Caters to tourists. As we walk we get a "hello" from an local Aboriginal lad. We have "tourist" written all over us.

We cruise the streets - eateries everywhere - and Steve books the next (and last) leg of our journey, to Sydney. This takes time, and the travel agent does NOT like Queensland Rail - too hard to get info.

We eventually walk back, then into town again for dinner. We spot what we think are cane toads and notice the tide is In.

We dine in cool splendour at the Cherry Blossom Restaurant (Japanese). Great food, good atmosphere, women in kimonos and a chef with the art of a conjuror, and a wonderful way of dicing egg.

SG: Cairns is weird! We travelled maybe a quarter of the shopping district and it was full of "tourist information" shops. If there is an official Tourist Bureau, we never saw it. The roads all seem to have bicycle paths marked on the edge of the road. Even on the roundabouts, which eventually have give way signs at the entrances. The Cherry Blossom Restaurant has a tepanyaki bar which we will book into later (with warm jackets).

4th.May.2000 Thursday - Cairns

MG: We slept soundly - the noise (TV, music) dropped off about 10-ish.

Accommodation basic, and only one of three showers in the Ladies "working",

I rousted Steve out early (7.00 am) then the canned music blared out at 7.10 am. My theory is that it stops people sleeping in, thereby making damn sure they get to sleep by 11 pm.

We break out the bikes and ride to the Esplanade; the tide is so far in it's lapping the wall! No birds except common mynas, sparrows, rock pigeons and silver gulls.

We met an English tourist who had cameras beringing his neck and had identified silver gulls and pelicans.

The Esplanade is pleasant, palm and tree-lined, green-grassed.

We rode out to the Botanic Gardens, bikes are not permitted but it doesn't tell you where to leave them, does it?

Cyclone Steve damaged some trees and understorey; we can't really tell! Bustle of gardeners everywhere. We see a Ulysses butterfly with brilliant blue wings flickering through the trees - won't stop still, will it! And almost step on a snake when I'm leaning forward to look at a spider in a web; slim delicate snake with smooth dark upper, pale yellow belly, and Steve says, dark blueish head.. We turn on snake alert mode and step carefully for the remainder of the trip. Orchid House and Fern House, rainforest is full of giant versions of indoor house plants. We spot black butcherbirds.

We have brunch at the Zoo Cafe and leave bikes there. We examine a plot about Aboriginal use plants and note that the main medicinal use is antiseptic for cuts; and snake bite. We see breadfruit tree and taro. This all takes up most of the morning.

We return to town, pay Harvey Travel for the train trip, visit Angus & Robertson bookstore (gulp), extract tickets for Kuranda tomorrow and book Savannahlander train tour (Undarra, Forsyth, etc), a four-day trip.

We then do the boring trip things of buy film, ring at post office on various matters - now 3 pm, so we adjourn to the Esplanade. The tide is now so far out that we can barely see it - it might only be 1 1/2 miles, but the beach sure is flat!

We see silver gulls and mynahs swooping on fresh water, and very distant egrets. Whimbrels possibly and one sacred kingfisher.

Eventually we tackle coffee and cake, then return back to the hostel. Noise from very loud TV and canned music. I write more postcards and update this, whilst Steve hires car for Saturday 9.00 am and Daintree.

SG: Tried to contact SF fans Craig & Julia Hilton at Prosperine. Craig has gone up country and the number I extract for Julia turns out to be someone else. (also a Julia). Maybe we'll try again when we get there. Otherwise perhaps Eric Lindsay and Jean Weber can be found.

Dinner was a very nice Indian Restaurant.

5th May 2000 Friday - Cairns - Kuranda - Cairns

MG: This is the day trip up to Kuranda on an olden style diesel train and carriages, up the mountain.

It was built in the 1880's to ensure a reliable food source for the coast and opened up the inlands.

We leave at 8.30 am from Cairns railway Station - comfortable leather seats and we have treated ourselves to a "Royale" champagne breakfast - bottle, orange juice and macadamia nuts.

The journey up is steep, thick bush - an amazing engineering feat to get it up that, and all pick & shovel work. (Italians & Irish).

Along the way and see ageratum, lantana, lemon trees and umbrella trees, presumably left by the railway workers. Some spectacular waterfalls, all in all, a lovely trip up.

Kuranda is tourist-driven. Eateries and tourist shops.

We visit Kuranda Butterfly World and dutifully purchase the requested maps. Oh, we see lots of butterflies too. And buy lots of souvenirs.

We do a ploughman's lunch. No birds visible, but gaggles of tourists. We go to a Bird & Reptile Sanctuary, specializing in parrots and finches. Both groups are glorious to see.

A very friendly red-tailed black cockatoo offers to sit on my arm (tentative raise of claw, but I am cautious - damned big beak), but it happily climbs up my arm and perches on my shoulder, having a head scratch. I can't actually see much of what I'm scratching, but it is very tolerant and very cute. Steve takes photos.

Eventually - it won't budge - we ask the guide how you get them off again. "You bend a shoulder to the railings". I do this and it stands in the middle of my back! Steve "brushes" him off.

We dawdle back to the train and take the trip back at 3.30. (The station itself has preserved a 1930's, turn of the century feel; very clean and well-painted with hanging potted plants in wonderful colour. Lovely atmosphere. Nice little souvenir shop too).

We feel bushed!! We wander home, crash out for a while and dawdle into town; seeking sandwiches, but get chinese instead. We find a New Scientist. We retire and read to the melody of muzak and television.

SG: The Parrot Aviary is certainly recommended. It's one large aviary on the side of the hill, more than five metres high, with plenty of cover and nest boxes all over. Two of the red-tailed blacks were very friendly as was a sulphur-crested. The giant yellow-tailed black was delicately crunching sunflower seeds and barely acknowledging my presence half a metre away. Rainbow lorikeets hang off ropes all around and "talk" to you. Their calls are so varied I wish for a lexicon. The three Eclectus Parrots (one male, two female), continue their business an arm's length above my head. The Pink & Grey Galahs are hiding in groups in the far corners of the cage, but a couple come down and solemnly inspect Maureen having a tete-a-tete with the red-tailed black; a pair of major-mitchell cockatoos sit quietly 20 cm from the handrail and inspect the passers-by by raising their crests when something different happens. We see maybe half of the 50 finches hiding in the undergrowth. And most of those were having a communal bath in the waterfall.

6th May 2000 Saturday Cairns to Daintree

MG: We hire a car. That is, Steve collects, and whilst I wait, I see more birds in 1/2 hour than all of yesterday. (Sparrows, common mynas, white ibis, helmeted friarbird, rainbow bee-eater, masked lapwing, honeyeater, yellow white-eye).

We do post office, breakfast, railway (wrong ticket) and drive off. The trip takes us by the sea - beautiful beaches, but stingers are still active, so no swimming.) Looks beautiful, but ....

We arrive, book in at Red Mill House (bed and breakfast). Nice place! Bamboo, cane and carved wood chairs.

We are shown a Little Kingfisher in the permanent pond they have on the grounds - the bird is tiny!! Like a willy wagtail - but all beak, tail and a little blob of body, and jerks head. White breast.

We do a walk in the hamlet (very small, three eateries and gift shops. Try a tropical fruite smoothie, see a sacred kingfisher x 3, a pair of sunbirds!!! Male and female are really beautiful - bright yellow feathers with male a deep iridescent blue breast - I didn't think I'd ever get to see them!.

Checked out restaurants and shops - purses made of cane toad skins - someone has found a use for them - and the woodturning place / museum has exquisitely carved wood gifts.

We chat with the guests and hosts - the guest pair are playing Trivial Pursuit - and eventually dine out at Jacanas Restaurant. (barramundi Steve, me T-bone).

SG: For most of the trip we had 80 kph speed limit with the 40 kph advising on the corners. The stupid automatic has no concept of engine braking, something I am used to and depend on. There are a couple of corners involving sharp braking but none dangerously so. The sea is many shades of blue and green and many of the mountain tops are shrouded in cloud. This is one of the few places in Australia where mountains come right down to the sea with no coastal plain. I got too close to an unusual green ants' nest. Normally they build nests by stitching leaves together to make a pocket. These were built in a cluster of palm fronds with silk walls. Luckily they don't bite particularly hard.

[MG They might not bite particularly hard, but it was hard getting them out of whatever they'd stuck their jaws into].

7.5.2000 Sunday - Daintree

"Rest day." Hah.

Have a leisurely breakfast and watch laughing kookaburras, varied triller, Cairns Birdwing & Ulysses, mistletoe bird.

Bike - in error - out to Daintree Eco Centre direction - hilly, windy, so after 8 km we gave up & bike back. But we do spot a Spangled Drongo.

We have tea and fruit slice at the Tea House on the way back, where a large-billed gerygone pair are building up a suspended nest.

We drive to Daintree, about 2.30?. This is easier than bike, and has a ferry crossing to Cape Tribulation. Rain threatens but doesn't fall - 8 days without and it's a drought. As for doing it by bike!!! eeek! it's narrow, with 4WD using it, speeding and no road edge, very winding. Deadly!

We arrive at the Centre, which is well hidden with a boardwalk approach (I see a honeyeater and a chinchilla - I think). The Centre has info we already know, but for the ignorant it would be useful. Lots of warnings about poisonous snakes, thorny vines, etc. As we start the walk, there is a loud "crack" between Steve and me - a black bean pod plummets down between us and splits -m a second either side and one of us would have been done in! We stop at each number and read the in about various plants, including genuine nutmeg tree and strangler fig. I spot a spectacled monarch - very busy, active bird that can almost hover like a hummingbird. The boardwalk is well set out. We then climb the 5(?) stage tower, to the very top, still surrounded by trees! It was a solid, well designed, wide structure, so I didn't get vertigo. Down on the ground, having a cup of coffee, we see an industrious orange-footed scrubfowl, which is not at all put off by camera flashes.

It's getting dark (at least, in the rain forest), and it closes at 5, so we go home.

Coconut opening is in progress at the Red Mill. I always wondered what Queenslanders do to pass the time....

SG: By the car odometer we road around 9.5 kms. During the ride I could have sworn we were steadily descending, probably due to the difference in viewpoint between my habitual recumbent and the upright I was seeing the downhills as very steep and the uphills as almost nonexistent. I was amazed by all the downhills on the way home.

The road north of the Daintree ferry ( a cable ferry) was everything Maureen says. Complete with small waterfalls that flowed across the road and stupid drivers that don't respect the speed limits or safety markings. Most of the education centre was stuff we had read a hundred times before but the boardwalk was really interesting, even if the commentary was outdated. Came back to Red Mill and conducted experiments in coconut opening on a specimen from one of the many coconut palms around the property. It took us half an hour to accomplish what the experts do in 3 to 4 minutes!

Then back to the Jacana for a burger each. The burgers were 15-20 cm tall and served with a knife through the centre to hold it all together. Tasty.

(MG - the loos distinguish between male and female by "man goes" with an animate mango, and "no man goes" with female mango. Hmmm)

8.5.2000 Monday - Daintree Village - Red Mill B& B

Today we saw birds.

This means awakening at 6, getting dressed & breakfasted & off to Mossman (37km) by 7 to get to where "Fine Feathers" tour starts. Del (?) runs it; Geoff of Red Mill came too, and there was an English couple (retired) on 2 months holiday, and Bruce, also English, whom we spotted on Cairns Esplanade beringed with camera equipment.

Del knows the area. And it was raining. So most of the time, we were in the van.

He located an amazing number of species locally, within Mossman's streets, which involved stopping in front of perfectly ordinary houses and having 5 sets of binoculars training on someone's garden, and the residents mildly wondering what we were looking at. I forget, there were so many of them. Even a Papuan frogmouth (or three) UNDERNEATH a sheltering angled bough, actually standing - I presume - on something we couldn't see, and looking like it had its back glued to the trunk. Del had a telescope to view it. I can't tell it from a tawny.

He took us various places - the town dump, schools, even Mossman cemetery, where we finally saw two bush thick-knees. Unfortunately, no-one will ever believe us, because they were standing perfectly still - "freezing" - within a grave surrounds and looking for all the world like a pair of grave ornaments. The whole time we were there they never even twitched or blinked.

In the rainforest we stopped for a view (heavy mist swirls and deep dark green forest) and Del saw - somehow - a Superb Fruit Dove. He must have hawks' eyes, because I never did spot it, sight unaided.

We cleared out of the rain, over the Great Barrier Mountain, onto savannah. Here, we got Australian Bustards!, a red-backed kingfisher, and a squatter pigeon. And lots of other things, but, as I said, there was just so much! it was a wonderful tour.

We got back in the evening; the English couple at Red Mill were just giving up on a tessel puzzle when a transformer blew in a shower of sparks. Most of the lights went. But it's okay, the hot water is gas-heated.

The restaurant rings and asks who will be eating and we say we'll just have sandwiches.

In due course, we wander down, in the dark, torch in hand, this is so WE can be seen and negotiate the shops. A shop front is open, candles everywhere, seats being set up, all for women.

Jacanas (attached to a general and liquor store) has kitchen lights and power, but the restaurant has gained tremendous atmosphere by putting candles on occupied tables. "We can't give you a number", they said, "we can't read it". We got a salad and fruit plate, having had a huge cooked lunch on Del's trailer, which was equipped with a barbecue plate.

We came back and chatted, until I gave up, read a while, Steve came, and off to sleep.

SG: Except for the rain it was a good day. The highlight for me was seeing the family of three papuan frogmouths huddled in the tree. The largest seemed to have its back glued to the underside of the limb. Somehow I managed not to bring my binoculars and the 500 mm lens has awful definition (well actually the ground glass screen in the SLR has awful definition). Anyway, I missed a lot of the smaller birds.

09.05.2000 Tuesday Daintree - Cairns

I'll miss Red Mill, Diane and Geoff are great hosts, genuinely interest in chatting of an evening, and they have made the place up wonderfully, - very open and airy, with white tiles (the damp doesn't matter) and brown colonial furniture and canework. And the gardens are extensively treed - breakfasting whilst birdwatching! (Feeding the kookaburras and watching the meat ants steal athe surplus - under the railing - was amusing, yesterday!)

It is raining again! Why? Because we are going on another early bird tour, aren't we!

This is Chris's 2 hours, on an uncovered pontoon boat. A party of birdwatchers with Claus (web-page Claus) arrive; we pile in. It rains. Ponchos, umbrellas & raincoats materialize. Not too many birds though!! We pursue a Little Kingfisher, succeeding - briefly - several times. It's windy, overcast, wet & squally. I spot something heron-like skulking amongst some vertical branches, point and ask "what's that?", and upon inspection, it proves to be a gull-billed heron. Ididn't recognize it! Chris kept telling me that I didn't realize how glad he was that I'd spotted it ...? (I found out from Diane afterwards that it's his "signature" bird, he gets it on 95% of occasions, and because of the lousy weather, he didn't get it at the other spots.) AWe also see an Azure & Sacred Kingfisher, and a female shining flycatcher - bliss! - She is as beautiful as the illustration! - the male is blue-black all over.

There were other species - no crocs, who cares - but those are what I essentially remember.

We arrive at Red Mill about 8.45, cooled and damp. Hot showers followed by a hot breakfast, mm, wonderful.

We pack, sort, leave bikes there (returning after Savannahlander tour), try to botanize frog ( - looks like a slender tree-frog to me, but they're only South West Australia) and reluctantly head for Cairns.

Well, at least the rain eases off. The coast waters are silty and greyish, and not at all inviting, like on the way up.

We have heaps of things to do in Cairns, arriving about 1.30 and doing them all - check rail tickets, post office, buy chemist stuff, deposit films, buy torch, find alternative B&B to the grotty backpackers - although it's still above Darwin - and return car. All successful.

Dined at the Cherry Blossom Japanese Restaurant again, this time with a grandstand view of the teppanyaki chef, Tomo, who comes from Yokohama originally, and has actually been to Perth! Worked there too, in restaurants.

He was very entertaining as he handled the spatulas on the hot plate; rhythm & skilled. We applauded, as did another table, and a small boy frequently deserted his seat to watch, entranced by the display. At the end of the meal, Tomo wrote "thank you" with a smily face in salt on the hotplate for us! - yes, we enjoyed ourselves - a memorable meal, and Steve can probably tell you what we had.

10.05.2000 Cairns to Chillagoe, Wednesday

The Savannalander train journey (4 days, 3 nights)

The old track goes through old mining and pastoral areas in a diesel passenger train, all fitted out in style.

Another early morning - 5.15 am!! I don't even do this at home! We pack and leave, carrying the bags the 1/4 hour walk to train, and have teas and coffees at 6.00 am whilst we wait for train. Steve collects TIME magazine from the eatery.

Train pulls in, Art Deco style silver streamline, Savannahlander logo on front. Two carriages. About twelve people (3 wimp out later). Two drivers. The back carriage is used for luggage.

We get on - no-one checks tickets - and it heads out up the Kuranda railway route. This is a pleasanter trip, though, because we get more scenic stops, including the prized look-out at Barron Falls.

The interior carriages have wooden roof beams and the small scale galvanized iron, which is effective.

Over the range, it is sunny and pleasant.

We roll through open grasslands and sparse trees, and at an amazing number of stops, people, some with kids, wave to the train. We wave back.

There is some horticulture - mango - which looks like peach or apricot, coffee, tobacco, citrus and melaleuca for ti-tree oil, regularly clipped to ground level. The mango trees wear flat tops and have green-tree-ant bridges.

We have plentiful comfort stops and tea stops (Muchella?) and commentaries.

Okay, it looks barren after the rainforests, but it is also comfortingly familiar. I know the hazards of this country; whereas rainforests I'm totally ignorant of.

There are little sidings, everywhere; deserted mines. In the middle of nowhere, a museum-cum-pub-to-be; hard to tell whether it's coming or going, rough and ready as you like - rusty galvanized iron, hand painted signs and general dilapidated-"rubbish." They have scoured the grounds to find old tins, bottles, equipment - I admire their enthusiasm. Lappa, it was called.

We get three cows with calves on the line ahead. Driver blows horn. Cattle run ahead on line. We slow down. Cattle slow down. We speed up. Cattle speed up. Will they actually get offthe line? Oh no, they keep running, ears flapping, legs foundering, for about three k or so, before finally grasping the idea (maybe) and all get off.

Arrive Almaden. Don't blink. Have lunch - very tasty pies and nice hot teas and drinks.

We are taken by coach to Chillagoe, about 1/2 hour drive away, for accommodation. (Chillagoe Bush Camp and Ecolodge). Prefabs set amongst trees and communal open dining area.

Town Tour takes us to the Caves ("road closed") "Royal Arch"; some attractive formations and lots of iron to colour the flows. Fig tree roots. Three daylight caverns, bats. No coloured lights, thank god. It's well cemented, so even the elderly can negotiate it. Oh, cave spiders too, with pinprick silver eyes in the hand-held lights we are issued.

We spend ages at a marble mining site, which the coach driver is really animated about, and we are left with a short time to glimpse the museum (photos, minerals, natural history) and in fading light, we miss most of the old smelter buildings. These look fascinating, but there is no light. We drive over the slag in darkness.

Back to the Bush Camp; we eat dinner (part of tour - no cost) - vege soup, steak or mackerel, salad, and apple crumble with custard. The hosts eat with us and are very approachable.

We briefly visit a souvenir shop and I inflict the weight of a marble teapot stand upon myself, for $6.00. Dirt cheap.

I am tired, and after browsing an Undarra Tubes book, retreat. The bathroom has marble floors and fittings. In a pre-fab. We sleep.

<SG: What to add? I think Maureen has covered it all. Train seats are comfy - totally unlike bus seats. The PA system is almost totally useless but we somehow extract meaning from the sounds>

11.5.2000 Thursday - Savannahlander: Chillagoe, Almande to Forsyth

MG: We are awakened at 6.00 for a 6.50 am coach start. Breakfast is cereal and toast with fresh jam and an orphan wallaby, 12 months old, and busy begging for food from John, the "boss" of Chillagoe Bush Camp & Eco Lodge.

We head off, pick up the drivers (Mike & Dave) and get to Almaden siding and they warm up the engine.

The country is still savannah; we stop at several places:-

-Junction creek for garnet fossicking (small)

-Picture stop across a bridge ( I wave from train)

-Morning tea stop at pretty creekbed (billy tea & cake from young lady with baby) and I see a lovely Striated Pardalote (black headed)

-Black cockatoos

-Bullock Creek magpies handfed by driver

-Wild pigs