northern territory: kakadu, gagadju, ubirr

The lookout provides an insanely awesome vantage point across the wetlands at Ubirr and in to Arnhem Land. We took our picnic dinner up the hill to watch the sun set on another day. 

B said that he always does the "thumbs up" so people know it's a good place to visit. 

After our very disrupted sleep the night before we bunkered down with sticky tape across the window seals. We bombed the inside of the van with a generous spray of mortein in the afternoon which we usually avoid but bought especially. It was a huge relief when we all woke up after sunrise the next morning. 

The free ranger-lead talks throughout Kakadu provide insight in to this sacred place. There's also weaving workshops run by local women. We caught up with Ranger Glen at Ubirr and joined him on a 2.5 hour long visit to the art sites. 

In addition to the history of the ancient artworks we heard a lot about the hard work that the community put in to have Gagadju recognised as a national park and eventually as a World Heritage Area. 

A figure with swollen limbs is depicted in the image below. It is said that swollen joints are a common side affect on the body after exposure to radioactive material. You may or may not remember that the Jabiru Uranium Mine is located in Jabiru. This image is thousands of years old. 

This is the place where locals say the Rainbow Serpent left its imprint in the rock after creating the surrounding parts of Kakadu. It may not be convincing to everyone but right across the world people have creation stories. 

western australia: derby, mowanjum

Derby (pronounced der-bi not dar-bi)

The prison boab tree which was used by police as a lock-up during the transportation of Aboriginal prisoners. It is also considered a site of spiritual significance for the people who lived around Derby. 

It was one of those serendipitous days that had us watching traditional Warroora dances by a billabong just out of Derby. 

We'd arranged to meet our friend Donny in Mowanjum after lunch but the day didn't quite turn out as planned. 

Realising we'd be too early J drove us down to the Derby jetty with our packed lunch. The kids were intrigued knowing that salties linger in the mangroves just by the jetty. We ate our lunch under a shelter where other tourists gathered. All of us were avoiding the humid heat of the day. As often happens, we each shared where we were from and whether we were going "over the top" or "around the bottom" of the country. 

It wasn't long before I established that fellow traveller, Anne, was from Canberra. It wouldn't have been surprised me if we had some friends in common given that a significant number of family friends live there. We spoke about travel and grandkids until my husband came over and in order to introduce Anne I asked her name, introduced my husband and offered my own name. 

I do have an unusual name and Anne remarked "I've only ever known one other person with that name" and she used my first and maiden names. "That's me!" I said, stunned. "That's me." Well, Anne said, "I knew you as a baby." 

This, and the following half hour conversation by the Derby wharf, was the reason we were late in meeting Donny in Mowanjum. When we arrived he'd already left to watch the rehearsals for the festival. Performances for the festival were to include a song by Donny's father. 

After asking around someone told us to just go out and see Donny. We followed the mud map he drew us until we found ourselves by the edge of a lily covered billabong. Kids (of all ages) and adults were singing and practising their dances - which told the stories of the people of Mowanjum - spanning across country and time. 

There is much written about the people who now call Mowanjum home and their journey from the north. While Mowanjum is a temporary home they often speak of returning to country. 

I sat there, on the bank of that waterhole, the dirt being kicked up by feet in the last shards of sunlight, knowing that there'd never be a moment like it. What a privilege.