The Cobourg Peninsula We’ve driven about 600 kilometres, about the same distance from Frankfurt to Paris but on the map it looks like we’ve only moved around the corner. by Ian Bowhay

The packing list was quite simple – toothbrush, soap, plaster strips (in case of blisters), razor (which may or not get used), sunscreen, book, 5 pairs of socks & jocks, 5 t-shirts, 3 pairs of shorts, spare pair of boots, torch, spare batteries, hat and sunglasses. That’s it! It’s a strange feeling to think that you’re about to travel to one of the most remote places on the planet and all that you are taking with you fits into one small pack. There’s no need to go to the bank since I won’t have anywhere to use cash even if I wanted to and there’s no need to take the phone or charger (although we are carrying a Satellite phone for emergencies).

So on a beautiful Darwin morning we set out for our destination – Garig Gunak Barlu National Park, which covers an area of around 2200 square kilometres at the pointy bit at the top of The Territory. The only part of Australia that’s further north is Cape York, at Queensland’s pointy end. Jeff Martin is our guide. Originally from New Zealand, Jeff fell in love with the tropical Top End and if he had his way would only visit town when he needs to buy supplies or get the Landcruiser serviced. Like the packing list, the final check list is simple – vehicle, trailer & passengers. The trailer is our lifeboat for the next week. Food, water, fuel, first aid kit and recovery gear (in case we get bogged).

Our friends for this trip are a couple visiting from Germany, Dieter & Gertrude. Life is about to get very interesting for them this week!

After a quick pit stop at the Bark Hutt Inn we leave the highway and put the 4WD to work. As it’s late in the dry season the river levels are down so the going is fairly smooth. After a few hours on the road to Maguk and a short 2 kilometre hike from the carpark, we are rewarded with a magnificent waterhole known as Barramundie Gorge. From here we moved further north to the town of Jabiru and our last night in civilisation for the near future.

The next day with both fuel tanks topped off and the jerry cans full we’re off, destination Arnhem Land. During the wet the locals make this journey by boat. The floodplain is massive and its size can only be appreciated from a high vantage point, so we meet up with a local guide, William, and he shows one of his very special places, Injalak Hill. Time stands still here and the only noise is the wind. When William talks of the “old people” who have been gathering & painting here, he is talking in terms of thirty thousand years and more. The view from the top of the hill is well worth the walk. The nearby township of Gunbalanya sits on a slightly elevated position, just high enough to stop from being swamped but the wet season floods would extend to the horizon in every direction.

Dieter is about to meet his first “Saltie” in the wild. This occurs at our second river crossing on the road leading north, as we were about to stop for a break to stretch our legs. At 3 metres or so it’s only a little one but it could still ruin your day so the decision is made to stay in the vehicle instead and find another spot a bit further up the road.

Our home for the next few days is a campsite on the shoreline overlooking Port Essington. The number of people in the National Park at any time is strictly controlled with a permit system, so delicate is the region. We’ll spend our time exploring, by road, boat and on foot, places that only a lucky few will ever get to experience. The ruins of Victoria Settlement established in 1838 but abandoned after 11 years of isolation and disease, are a stark reminder that this is an unforgiving and harsh land. If you aren’t fully prepared you will find out very quickly.

Gertrude is not quite certain why we aren’t swimming and making the most of the pristine harbour. Jeff explains that it’s not just the Croc’s up here that can kill you, there are the sharks, stonefish, box jellyfish and lots of other nasty things that sting and bite. Nature sets the rules up here and as long as we follow them we’ll be fine. Gertrude has decided that this is puts things in a different light but she is determined to make the best of it. Dieter has to put the distance we’ve travelled into perspective. We’ve driven about 600 kilometres, about the same distance from Frankfurt to Paris but on the map it looks like we’ve only moved around the corner.

The sunsets here are indescribable. It may be in part that I’m from the Centre and the light works differently this far north. At any rate, there’s nothing to do except sit back, relax and take in all the beauty that my backyard has to offer.

I experienced this in 2004

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