The Litchfield Conspiracy

Ok, so it isn’t that dramatic, but a number of factors conspired against us getting too much done today. First up, our vocalist kept us all up way too late last night. Secondly, we had a chatty grey nomad couple from Toowoomba next to us. We have been stalking them for a day or two and after a bit of a rude grump from a tired small boy the day before, it was polite to have a chat. Thirdly, Lynne found a nice twenty-something teacher-cum-knight-in-shining-armour to chat up over washing up. Fourth, we needed to top up our bread and milk on the way out, and Darwin isn’t awash with Coles and Woolies, and when they do, they hunt in pairs. Lastly, when we finally managed to get into Litchfield, there was a critical road closure which meant we couldn’t do what we wanted, and in fact should have done things another way if only we’d known. Never mind.

So, into Litchfield via Batchelor and Rum Jungle. Or at least it would have been if I’d been allowed to look for it. Rum Jungle was a mine that closed many years ago, and amongst other things, was one of our early Uranium mines. Because it wasn’t mentioned in any of the books I had to turn back at the first slightly unfriendly road sign. There were however a lot of very new and very good roads not in our GPS, so I suspect it was in there somewhere. There was some history on the boards in the walking tour of Batchelor, but we didn’t have time to do it. I guess it will need to wait until next time. We did however find numerous Rum Jungle things, like Rum Jungle Lake and Rum Jungle Road, so it still exists. Hidden in amongst the enormous watermelon and mango orchards somewhere…

Litchfield is characteristically similar to Kakadu in many ways, in that there is escarpment, different forest types above and below, water soaking through sandstone feeding the rivers, beautiful clear water, and ancient rocks. Less is made of the aboriginal history though, so being closer to Darwin it was possibly more effectively cleared before we started taking more care of such culture. Much driving between attractions, although much smaller it would be possible to see all of it in a day if you were organised. We weren’t, so missed much, but got the taste nonetheless.

First stop was the magnetic termite mounds. At this point there are both magnetic and cathedral termites, so it was good to be able to compare the two. The current theory is that the orientation of these primarily flat termite mounds is governed by sensitivity to the earth’s magnet field, although the correct angle is governed by local conditions. Apparently termites with the correct orientation programmed into their genes will succeed in preference to those that are slightly out. This is apparently borne out by the fact that if you take the same species of termite and transplant a queen pairing  from an area with one orientation to a place with a different preferred orientation, they will build at their programmed orientation rather than adapting to the local norm. Or so the story goes…

The photo at the head of this entry is from a cathedral termite mound in the same area. Apparently they get to 6m in height. You guess the size of this one.

Next on to Buley rockholes and Florence Falls. The proximity to Darwin, and the quality of the swimming meant this was crowded, even though they are not big areas. The sign in the carpark says it all. If you get this far and can’t get a spot, come back when it is less busy. We got a spot, but went on to Florence Falls for lunch, a walk and a swim. Our Darwin couple was there as well, so we had a little chat. They advised us that the walk from the picnic spot to the falls was worth it, so we did, and a good call it was too.

Florence Falls was a lot like Barramundi Gorge in Kakadu, but again much smaller scale. The water was warmer, the crowds much larger, and we were entertained by some twenty-something year-olds jumping off anything overhanging the waterhole, including the waterfall itself. It was probably about 12m I’d guess, and they weren’t reckless. They had spotters with snorkel and mask in the pool below, so in a way, even though it wasn’t advisable, it was probably safe enough. I guess the greatest risk was of wardrobe failure in the end, even though the girl did spend an interminably long time at the top plucking up the courage.

On to the Lost City. A formation of eroded sandstone stacks. Apparently they aren’t the best in the top end, but the better ones are much more remote and we won’t be getting there.

Because of our closed road, Daly River fell off the itinerary, so once back on the Stuart Highway, we drove south while the light held, and wound up in a place called Hayes Creek. There is a roadhouse, pub and camping ground here, but I suspect if they weren’t rebuilding the road here, the roadworkers wouldn’t be in the camp ground and it would be very quiet indeed.