We passed a quiet night, apart from a necessary visit to the toilet block at 4.30 a.m. What was remarkable about this was the large green frogs which live in the lavatory pans! Their bodies are about 3 inches long and they cling on up near the rim and seem to cling on very tightly, so the flush doesn't dislodge them. When I flushed, mine had to change its grip and extended a very long leg with large circular pads on each of its toes. As I don't usually carry a camera when visiting the loo in the middle of the night, I didn't get a chance to take a photo, and in the morning there wasn't time, I barely got my case onto the bus before it left, and my teeth had to remain dirty until later in the day. Apparently, some of the gents' lavatory pans contained two frogs, but nobody seems to have thought to take a photograph. I wondered if it was a new species, but apparently they are green tree frogs.
After driving for about an hour and a half, we passed through Mataranka township, one street with a Police Station, a service station, a cafe, a bar, and a shop. It has a caravan and camping site, because people go there to visit the hot springs. These springs became popular during the war when Mataranka, originally a homestead, became a staging post for the Australian army when it was moving up from Sydney to Darwin. The officers had their own springs, but the men used Bitter Springs, which is the one we visited.
The water is warm - about 34 degrees - and it is crystal clear. But the heat generates algae which line the banks, so you have to keep away from the banks while you swim. The whole area is very lush, with overhanging palms and other trees, and is really very pretty. It isn't a true hot spring, the water is a river which arises from groundwater heated by thermal activity, so there is no sulphur smell, just a dreadful smell of decaying vegetation. However, the water was very refreshing, though we were careful to keep our feet off the mostly very slimy bottom.
We stopped at a set of steps about half way along the swimming area of the river, and the tour guide told us that there was even more weed and algae in the next bit. She also told us we were supposed to have brought our flip-flops so we could walk back along the stony path. We had failed to hear that instruction - or, indeed, that she had given any instructions at all. So we said that we would swim back against the current. This proved impossible, even for Paul, the current being quite strong round a bend in the river. An attempt to walk back along the stony path also failed because the small sharp stones and gravel were just too painful. Fortunately, one of our group came past, and he kindly walked back and fetched our shoes.
Our next stop was at a pub in called the Pink Panther in Larrimah, another place which hardly exists.
This has real coffee (which we have been unable to get anywhere we have been in Australia) and a 'Zoo'. This consists mostly of birds, and mostly birds in cages rather than aviaries. Most of the cages also lack what London Zoo refers to as 'enrichment' so the birds, mostly parrots, parakeets, lorikeets and birds of that type, look quite bored and glad to see people because it gives them something different to look at. The poor old sulphur-crested cockatoo had pulled out all his breast feathers from boredom, and looked a bit like a plucked chicken.
There is a friendly little wallaby hopping about which lets you stroke it,
and the emus are also quite friendly and interested to see you. The saltwater crocodile is called Sneaky Sam because he hides, but I spotted him under his jetty. He won't be able to hide there much longer, the jetty is only about 5 foot long, and so is he. The freshwater crocodiles were so bored they swam over to see if we would do anything interesting (such as give them a fish, perhaps?)
The next stop, for lunch, was at the famous Daly Waters pub. Daly Waters consists of some tin shacks, a service station, and the pub.
The pub is also, apparently, the police station, post office and general store. The bar in the pub is full of signed things stuck to the wall.
This started when men setting off for a few week's casual work left their existing money with the publican, signing their name on the notes so there would be no doubt about the owner. When the notes had been there a while, the publican pinned them to the wall to remind the owner he had their money. Now people who stay there leave all sorts of things - tee shirts and hats mainly, with a fair number of underpants, bras and pants and so on. The old wooden barroom is crammed with them.
We used their barbecue to make lunch, then had a swim in their pool - or rather, we sat in the lovely cool water for 45 minutes so we could get nice and cold. It is a burning hot day again. Our next stop, only a mile away, was at the original Daly Waters international airport.
Daly Waters was first a relay station on the overland telegraph, and only had the relay station building. Later, a pub was opened for passing drovers. In the 1920s, Bill Pearce and his wife opened a general store, which did not do too well. In 1931 he won the the contract for re-fuelling the De Havilland Moth for the Department of Civil Aviation. With the advent of international air travel, Daly Waters became a re-fuelling point for planes flying north from Sydney and Adelaide to Darwin and beyond. A new airline called Quantas (Queensland and Northern Territories Airline Service) began using the airport for re-fuelling their mail flights, and later started a service between Brisbane and Singapore. Before long other airlines followed and soon three planes a week were stopping there to re-fuel and for the passengers to be fed. This continued to expand, and during the war, Daly Waters became an important re-fuelling stop for planes flying to defend Australia from the Japanese. After the war, it began to decline in importance and was eventually closed in 1971. According to the Lonely Planet guide, the famous pub is mostly constructed from the original Pearce house.
Our last stop, at Dunmarra, was for fuel and to look at the snakes. I held the big python, which seemed to like me - she got on me a second time when somebody else was holding her. Then it was a long drive to our next campsite, broken only by a stop to photograph the first kangaroo warning sign, and the very long straight road.
The landscape is starting to change. It is still savannah woodland, but the trees are fewer and shorter, and are mainly acacia rather than eucalyptus. There are far fewer termite mounds, and the ones that exist are small.
Banka Banka, where we are staying, is nowhere in particular, just a camping and caravan park about an hour north of Tennant Creek. Once again, we have the little huts with canvas walls and roofs, only this time it is a very long walk to the toilet block. The kitchen/diner is a real wooden building this time though.
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