Darwin

Pretty, ain't it? I took this photo down at the harbour, in between eating crumbed barramundi, prawn cutlets and chips, drinking cheap cold beers, and conspiring with Bronwen to push the little kids who were taking over our footrest on the edge of the pier into the water. One of the parents looked ex-SAS, so I thought better of it.

Darwin (population 100,000 unflinching piss-heads) has been a real treat.

It started with rum-swilling maniacs in the row behind us in the plane, who objected loudly and idiotically to suggestions that they drink less than 3 cans an hour, before spending 1 hr and 5 minutes on an expletive-riddled conversation about building retaining walls in one's backyard. Since arriving, we've tackled the heat by swimming regularly in the hotel pool. The pool is weird. At any given hour, 30 or so labourers sit in the adjoining bar and look straight on, trying not to salivate in their beers at the sight of swimsuited female university students from Germany.

Other things: a visit to Parap markets on Saturday morning, at which I ate some tasty charred cow on a stick from a man who looked like the late ex-Indonesian President Suharto (four stars), the Art Gallery and Museum (four stars, and a special mention for the rude mole who didn't serve us at the cafe), Parliament House (going there now. Expect at least 3.5 stars, possibly more if it becomes apparent that Territory governments actually do things). For anyone in this neighbourhood any time soon, we can recommend the Rendezvous Cafe for Malaysian and Thai cuisine and the most bitching lemon ice tea we've ever tasted.

Tonight, we fly to Singapore. Unlike the recent light plane-bound Australian visitor, we are actually authorised to do so and therefore don't intend spending any time in the notorious Changi big house.