An update on my latest junket....

In a bid to become re-inspired, I packed up my new co-owned esky and headed to Kakadu for the weekend to enjoy my surrounds. We drove out past Jabiru to Nourlangie Rock, just as some imposing black clouds descended upon it. Parking the car, we hiked through isolated showers to a sacred place. The sign said that Aboriginal people once sheltered here for thousands of years.

Just as we arrived, a huge storm hit, preceded by swirly wind and heavy heavy rain which lasted for about 20 mins. We were the only ones there, and completely sheltered under this natural rock formation. It was so freakin magical.

The hike took about half an hour, and it rained most of that time, but it was so beautiful. This place is so different during the Wet Season. And there are no tourists.

We headed off to find a spot to eat rice paper rolls and homemade muffins. As we were gobbling our food, we noticed a blue-winged kookaburra, perched on a sign. I was able to get really close to take his photo.

After eating, we saw that there was a 250m walk we could do to a lookout. Thinking it wouldn’t take us long, we scooted off merrily, not bringing camera or water. We carefully jumped over a body of water (with slight concerns of disturbing nesting crocs), climbed a man-made ladder and then started an ascent up 45 degree rockface. It was like a rock kingdom up there, with wattle trees growing from the cracks and as we climbed higher, the view became more and more sublime. It felt like we were explorers, discovering this place for the first time.

There was not a soul to be seen, and it was oh-so-quiet, apart from the birds. We could see a huge billabong at the foot of the escarpment. FULL to the brim with crocs.

We booked a room at a nearby lodge with ‘Territorian’s rates’ and enjoyed the pool and BBQ facilities before turning in for a night of Movie Channel action.

The next morning we cruised the calm waters of Home Billabong and Yellow Waters, watching birdlife and the multitude of flowers which sprout up during the wet. Then bought Billabongs to eat, filled up the car with petrol and headed home, via Fogg Dam.

It felt like a true holiday, in only two days.

Looking ahead makes me happy

I'm feeling those northerly winds a-blowin.....

I have noticed my increasing tendency of casually investigating Spanish job search sites, and opening and scrutinising the emails promoting volunteering in Argentina that fill my inbox.

Yes and so returns that monkey on my back, the niggling longing to escape, the search for broader horizons. Instead I'll travel to nearby destinations. Maybe a weekend trip to Katherine Gorge or a drive to a remote community.

Time to throw myself into work again. Time to plan for the future, for 2009. Time to make goals, budgets, and to-do lists.

Looking ahead makes me happy.

1. Go bush walking
2. Write on streeteditors more
3. sell my writing/ get further pieces published
4. Take Spanish lessons
5. Run and yoga regularly
6. Get out bush once a fortnight
7. Give blood
8. Buy bike
9. Ride bike plenty
10. Save $
11. Do walks in Katherine Gorge
12. Visit Uluru
13. Try camping
14. Buy all vegies from local markets not Woollies
15. Spend more time drawing
16. Grow tomatoes
17. Nurture my garden
18. Spoil Dad on his 60th
19. Eat more raw foods
20. Think about buying a dog
21. Call family and friends more
22. Make coffee at home
23. Buy a typewriter
24. Play more tennis (maybe a set night a week)
25. Do more stuff that scares me
26. Reactivate volunteer xchange
27. Seek future opportunities in BCN and Argentina
28. Join the library
29. Write in my diary more

Visits from special southerners

It is the day after my two special visitors have left and I'm a tad forlorn.

Sister E was here for a week which was glorious; we went bike riding, took the croc to Litchfield, ate at restaurants, floated languidly in a pool and celebrated the new year together. We caught up on milestones, as well as the little stuff that you miss out on when living in different parts of the country.

J arrived at 12.30am on New Year's Eve. We picked her up after the party, retreated to my place with a bottle of champagne tucked under my arm, and talked into the night. We had lazy mornings drinking coffee and eating fruit and croissants. We realised J's dream to sit in a waterhole on NY day, and spent a blissful afternoon at Buley's Rockhole. We patronised the iconic Ski Club in between downpours. We sat in air-conditioned comfort to watch the Tiwi Bombers annihilate Southern Districts.

We sat on the wharf basking in the sunset light and eating fish and chips. We experienced an important part of the Top End's history through 'Australia'.

I remembered what a glorious place the Territory is.

It's oh-so-quiet....

.... in Darwin this week. With four others, we make up the skeleton staff at the station in the days leading up to Christmas. We're embracing late starts, long laksa lunch breaks and early knock-offs to walk on the beach.

The streets seem quite deserted also. Most people I know have gone south for the festive season. The usually packed car park is half empty and once-humming cafes are closed.

Neighbours in my apartment building have left also.

A guy at work who has been here for 30 years reckons there used to be a time when 50% of the population left at this time of the year. He describes walking down the main street and not seeing a soul (I imagine tumbleweed blowing by).

The plan is for an orphan's Christmas this year. For lowly orphans, we have lots of options. We'll join some friends on the foreshore for oysters and champagne in the morning, then head home and open presents, listen to music and play cards, maybe have a nap, then at around 3pm visit a friend who has invited us poor things into her home to eat ham, mango and prawns and lie in the pool for a few hours. Then off to another bash for Christmas dinner with a motley crew of random individuals. I'm bringing rice paper rolls and red wine.

My family has sent a care package of goodies to keep me warm over the season. There are presents and cards, plus grandma has continued the divine tradition of making my favourite Christmas treat, home-made rum balls which I will gobble up over the next few days. I can't wait.

the divine island

I returned this morning from an idyllic week in the gorgeous Bali. The plan was to rest, read, sleep, eat and recuperate. Our days were spent waking at 8.30am, doing a yoga class, eating a languid breakfast, drinking tea and freshly squeezed juices, and maybe a snooze or a massage. It was utter bliss.

I made firm friends with the resident pups who made our porch their sunbaking spot. The people working at the village were super sweet and friendly with big open faces and constant, genuine smiles.

We ate fish, fruit and freshly-grown organic vegies from the gardens surrounding our huts. We basked in baths with floating flora, and swam in clear salt water. We had Big Sleeps and watched movies in bed.

I won't forget this place or the people in a hurry.

Top Five Things to do on my holiday

Re-reading High Fidelity has reminded me of this fun game of making Top Fives.

1. Read
I will begin my travels well-equipped with reading material, namely three brand new books (well, not technically brand new; one has been well-loved and lent by a friend; and the other two are from book exchanges). Previously unconsumed by my eagle eyes, for sure. Three books in three weeks - sounds good to me.
2. Sleep - nuff said. I want lots of it. Unencumbered by musings and panicky awakenings a la competitions, events, radio and the half marathon.
3. Write
My Spanish memoirs won't write themselves. "Bars for the Loner in Barcelona" - catchy title, yes, just need to flesh out the other bits. That requires time and a beachside location.
4. Play with key people , familia and godsons
J and I will spend a lot of quality time lolling in the ocean/pool/ Tolkien-esque hut which is our glorious accommodation in Bali for an entire 7 days! Then she'll head off to Paris (que sorpresa!) and I to The River City to re-connect with The Two Godsons; I am sure they have been missing my life guidance and tutelage in my long absence. Oh there is so much to teach those boys; we'll have to resume our reading aloud from Spanish For Beginners, and maybe Will is big enough to get out the cricket set I bought him on his birth?
5. Swim in the ocean
Oh how I have missed this fun activity during my tenure in The Top End. It's truly torturous walking along a sunny foreshore in 35 degree heat, gazing at water the hue of Bombay Sapphire and not being able to hurl yourself into the crystal depths for fear of attack by estuarine reptile, stinging sea life or tropical bacteria... Nothing five days on the Sunshine Coast won't remedy.

life, tennis, dogs

Oh I do want to live beside the sea.

In a big, old house with a garden and a dog or two. I would be kept very busy with writing, yoga, family, friends, gardening, walking the dogs. Maybe I could open a book shop with an old espresso machine to make people coffee as they pore over the dog-eared pages.

Just finished reading The Great Gatsby; devoured in an entire weekend. The protagonists whose lives Scott Fitzgerald chronicles seem so glamourous and exciting. The bejewelled upperclass, and all their demons and eccentricities. Summer nights spent lazing in glowing garden parties, drinking mint juleps (they sound divine, even though I don’t know what exactly they are), taking drives as collectives to ‘town’ aka New York, and sitting around while listening to someone play the piano. I ran along a street yesterday and saw a house, set back off the road, with a tennis court out the front and two white-clad couples sitting at a table nearby drinking lemonade, assumedly after a few balmy sets. *Note appendum to my seaside abode dream: tennis court. No matter how old and run-down, it’ll add to the romance of it all.

Note Kent Nerburn in Road Angels: “I've watched the light go out of too many of my friends' eyes as their lives turned from a crazy garden of weeds and wildflowers to a well-manicured lawn. I'm not ready for that yet. I need 'bears behind trees' – surprises in life that are bigger than a plugged sewer line or an unexpected finance charge on my credit card ... If I don't have them, my life becomes just a long-term maintenance project.”