THERE IS NOTHING TO BE BITTER ABOUT HERE - KATHERINE TO MATARANKA AND OUR BUSH CAMP AT BITTER SPRINGS (29 JUNE 2015)

The glossy photos of the hot springs at Mataranka conjure up visions of a bathing idyll set in dry tropical bush. After the reality check which came with our visit to the Katherine hot springs, we were prepared to be brought up with a jolt, but to our great relief Mataranka lived up to its promise.

One of the most important things to know about Mataranka is that there are two separate hot springs, one at the Mataranka Homestead some 7 kms from the town, and the other at what is know as Bitter Springs, which is only about 3 kms from the main street. 

And to add to the potential confusion, there are four different caravan parks vying for the tourist dollar. It is only from two of these that one can walk to a hot wallow....the Mataranka Homestead and Mataranka Cabins and Camping, which is at Bitter Springs. After listening to the advice from all who had been there before us, and weighing up all the options, we chose the bush camp at Mataranka Cabins and Camping as our new domicile for a few nights. Now all that remained was to get there and find out if we had done the right thing.

We had been told that sites are not formally allocated at the camp we had chosen, and as we had well and truly learnt by now, in these circumstances the early bird indeed catches the worm. 

Fortunately we only had just over 100 kms to run, but to maximise our options we hauled out of Katherine and back onto the Stuart Highway in the early morning light (who can sleep in on a moving day anyway?)

In short order we passed a sign which was a little more telling than most. Although it was not today's destination, our arrival in Tennant Creek in a few days would mark the completion of our first full lap of the country. We did spent some time reflecting on all we had experienced to date and all that still lay ahead. I hate that awful phrase which is bandied about willy nilly in the caravan world...'Living the Dream'...but this life on the road really is a hoot.

We had the odd bit of some serious company as we tootled our way south, and again, passing these road trains was another cause for reflection....they were not a patch on some of the leviathans of the west which have all and sundry scurrying off the road to let them pass.

For some odd reason we've never been able to fathom, those who live near to, or travel along, the Stuart Highway in this neck of the woods have developed the quirky penchant for dressing the roadside termite  mounds.

What has driven this need is totally beyond us, but some do it better than others.

After just over an hour we had arrived at the entrance to the Mataranka Cabins and Camping. With limited time up our sleeves, moments like this always bring with them that nagging doubt that despite all the enquiries made and homework done we may have made a poor choice. Fingers crossed!

As we drove into the park past the junction of the road to the cabins area (we'll look at these later) we were in little doubt that this was indeed a bush camp,

a view which was reinforced at the camp office where, as expected, we were invited to chose our patch.

Free choice is a wonderful thing, but it does bring with it an odd sense of anxiety....once the decision is taken it is almost inevitable that we'll wander around the park thinking "could we have done better?" It is always much more fun to be able to blame someone else, such as the park manager, for a poor site allocation than to have to accept the weight of personal responsibility!

We pulled up near what I thought would do to the trick, but just to be sure I wandered off to check out some alternatives.  Here I discovered that many of the cosy nooks which looked ideal were unpowered, and with the possible need to use the air conditioner for the comfort of his feline nibs, this was not an option for us.

As I was walking back to our rig I thought I spied Liz in deep conversation with folk opposite our site of choice. Surely not. Yes, indeed. None other than Marie and Frog, a couple with whom we had shared some wonderful happy hours at Kurrimine Beach two years ago. This was a very good start!

So we set up where we were.

I had some reservations about the fact that we were right on the entrance road boundary, but we solved the dust problem in short order....shade cloth has more than one use,

and what we had in abundance was the ever important shade.

Once settled, a quick gallop around this park revealed that it is indeed a bush camp. The ablution block is rustic to say the least.

All the cubicles are unisex 

and self contained with both shower and toilet, and as you can see in the previous, the camp laundry is a set of washing machines in the breezeway.

The camp kitchen is equally unsophisticated, but fully fit for purpose.

Compared to this infrastructure, the park cabins appeared relatively up-market.

From their front decks, those taking up this accommodation option could look out over what is the signature natural feature of the park itself, termite mounds, dozens of them.

There were all around the park, impressively large lumps everywhere. In the early morning and at dusk, the slanted rays of the sun transformed many of these into glowing red towers.

The Mataranka Cabins and Camping park is diverse in the type of sites on offer. Some are  in relatively open space

whilst in other sections, cosy shaded nooks 

and crannies are available to those who treasure their privacy and were lucky enough to snaffle one of them.

We were more than happy with our choice despite the odd distraction of some who insisted on driving along the park entrance road at warp speed (I did have the real pleasure of watching two maniacs come to serious grief on the massive speed hump half way along the roadway). Shade and space, and, as an added bonus, a mere ten metre walk across the road to party central.

It was really good to catch up with Marie and Frog (the only person who ever calls him John is his wife!) again. They live at Harrington, one of our favourite spots on the NSW Coast. Frog is a retired NSW Police Senior Sergeant, so we have much in common. We hope to visit them in their home town at some stage next year. In the meantime we reflected on the good times we had shared at Kurrimine Beach as we tippled on into the twilight with them and their neighbours. This had been a very good start to our Mataranka adventure.

THE EDITH FALLS AND ANOTHER KNEES UP IN KATHERINE (28 JUNE 2015)

Katherine threw up one great disappointment for your scribe. Having visited the Katherine Gorge some years ago as part of a trip on the Ghan to Darwin for a UN reunion, I had long planned to paddle this iconic waterway on my kayak. Lake Argyle and then the Katherine Gorge.....what a duo!  

As you may have gathered by now, this did not happen. The gorge was closed to swimming and paddling. The local rangers had discovered signs that a salt water crocodile was in residence. 

This they do in a unique way. Polystyrene balls about the size of a mango are hung just above the water from trees on the banks. When a saltie takes up a territory in the waters of the gorge, it views these balls as intruders and will attempt to remove them. The teeth imprints it leaves (they are too firmly secured to be ripped off) are a dead give-away of its presence, even when there have been no direct sightings. How ingenious is that?

So, with the main gorge off limits (there was no real point in merely ogling it again) we decided to visit the Edith Falls, some 60 kms north of Katherine.  What a good decision this was.

It was a beautiful day, and despite our early arrival it was obvious that we were not the only visitors to the falls. 

Most of us managed to park within the marked lines. Others seemed to struggle with this concept!

We soon discovered that many towing vans pull in here en route to and from Katherine. The car park resembled a caravan park.

They come in their droves to visit Edith Falls.

As we were eyeing off all these parked vehicles of all descriptions we realised that there is a bush camp site here at the falls and that some of those parked were lying in wait for a vacancy.

As we took a closer look, it became more than apparent that the two women (who were obviously very special friends!) who manage this camp have a real sense of humour which was reflected in the wording of the signboards around the office. From this pull-up point the arrow directs the newly arrived 

towards the office where the camp fees are listed thus. These are more than reasonable, and it was clear that this is a very popular place for a short stay. We did overhear the manager telling a prospective guest that she did not expect that there would be a vacancy for a couple of days.

This is indeed a bush camp, but it all seemed to work. A small cafe attached to the office was doing a roaring trade.

The heads here are pretty basic, but what a setting in which to perform the daily inevitable!

And there was even a patch of local artwork to add to the general ambiance. 

And as we poked our noses around the other side of the building we came across the 'piece de resistance' as far as the local notice boards went. Irrespective of one's views about alternative lifestyles, this is as witty as!

So, chuckling away, we set off on the main mission of the morning, a visit to the falls. As this information board displays, there are two sets of falls, the upper and lower. Unfortunately my toe, which although healed to the point that I could now enter the water, was still subject to scar breakdown if I walked too far. This sadly precluded any thought of venturing to the upper levels. The Matron blanched at the very thought.

As I mentioned earlier, this is just the most delightful spot. The path to the lower falls took us past a broad expanse of grassed picnic areas

where some were already taking advantage of the surroundings.

We had other fish to fry...."onwards Lizzie".

As we approached the falls, we came across two notice boards on which warnings were writ large. I know that public risk insurance cover demands that these types of cautionary notices are displayed but it does seem just a tad off-putting.

And the next is a classic. I've reproduced this in 'extra-large' so you can read it clearly.

How comforting it is to know that the risk of becoming lunch for a large and hungry saltie has been 'reduced'!  The more I read this notice the more I laughed.....what a total abdication of any real official responsibility this is, and what a classic contradiction it presents....'open for swimming', oh, and by the way, 'be crocwise'....don't become a meal! This is official deniability at its best.

As we did when visiting the Katherine Gorge, you may be wondering how it is that salties manage to access these fresh water systems, which, in the dry are either stand alone waterholes or fed by springs. In the wet season, the flooding rivers which feed into these areas, allow salt water crocodiles to 'ride the falls', plop into the pools below and take up residence...hence the often quite intense ranger activity to locate, trap and remove them.

In any event, a swim was not on today's agenda, so with due note taken of these warning signs, we pressed on past the pandanus and eucalypts

to the spot from which we could take in this magnificent view. At this time of the year, the

lower Edith Falls are a mere trickle in the cleft of rock at the far end of this pool, but I have to say this did not detract in the slightest from the spectacle.

As we walked further around the edge of the pool, small secondary ponds presented a picture of aquatic serenity.

Despite all the disclaimers, public swimming here at Edith Falls is at least facilitated, if not directly encouraged. In a couple of spots steps lead to the water and life buoys are provided. Again I chuckled....it would take a mighty throwing arm to hurl this lifesaving device to one in trouble in the middle of the pond. Just another visual reassurance perhaps?

I must admit had the circumstances been different, I would have been sorely tempted to take the plunge. The water was crystal clear and inviting in the rising heat of the late morning although the reaction of one we watched flop into the lake did indicate that it was a touch on the chilly side.

We continued our adventure on dry land

and soon came across another quite different aspect of this charming water hole, a sandy beach no less, at the edge of a shallow reach of the pond where youngsters were taking full advantage of this little bit of paradise in what we hoped was complete safety.

Personal safety soon came sharply into our own focus. The one thing the warning notices failed to mention was the local population of 'slithering sids', one of which we met at disturbingly close quarters. Fortunately we had spotted this two metre Whip snake before it had the chance to create more personal angst than it did. 




The funniest thing (in hindsight) about this encounter was an English bystander who insisted on advising me to stand clear (I think hectoring would be a more appropriate description) and then proceeded to lecture (read scold) me about the highly dangerous nature of Australian reptiles. Needless to say I put up with this nonsense for just so long before my good manners deserted me and I rather tersely told her what type of snake it was, pointed out that although highly venomous, it has a very poor delivery system because of small fangs in a small mouth and that as an Australian I did know a bit about our native fauna. This wretched woman then had the gall to huff and snort in a most offended manner. Her problem!




Of a far less offensive nature than either the snake or the self important Pom were the fish which teemed in the clear waters. Where was my fishing rod when I needed it?











Yet another path branched off to the water's edge and from here














we took our last view of the distant falls framed by the ubiquitous pandanus.











As I hope I have managed to share with you in some small way, a visit to Edith Falls really is a must whilst in Katherine. We could only lament the fact that the upper levels were beyond us (well, me really) on this occasion. Another entry on the 'to do' list.






It was time to head back to the highway where the road out of Edith Falls














allowed me to again indulge my passion for termite mounds. These were even sharper than the last lot












and assembled in places in impressive colonies, where the work of their inhabitants in hoovering up all the ground material was more than evident.



This had been a very good day so far,  but it was not over. Our long time travelling mates, (we first met in Charleville three years ago) the Eleftherious, were in town and had invited us over to their park for happy hour and dinner at the park restaurant. How could we refuse?

 


In the best tradition of carvanning they had established a good rapport with their park neighbours and all six of us settled into a very industrious happy hour.












By the time we made it across to the park restaurant, which proved to be excellent, we were more than ready for our dinner under the stars.






We had no hope whatsoever of escaping the offered nightcaps back at their van where our new found friends (the neighbours) insisted on plying me with a fine Single Malt. Again I must insist it would have been churlish and very bad form to have refused. The fact that this is one of my favourite tipples had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that by the time we left I had downed more than was probably sage...well they just kept insisting on 'one  (more) for the road'. What was a man of good manners expected to do?

Fortunately the two parks are within staggering distance of each other which is precisely how we made our way back to the safety and comfort of our own digs. This had been another memorable Katherine social event, but alas, there is still no such thing as a free lunch. I was just a little jaded the following day. As I  went about the numerous tasks associated with pulling down our camp and preparing for our departure to Mataranka bright and early on the morrow, I felt sure it was not usually this challenging!  

And that's exactly where we are heading next....to wallow in proper hot springs and fulfil yet another bucket list ambition. Would Mataranka deliver?