Mataranka
Unable to get a last minute campsite back at Leliyn, we had Oma's first unofficial campsite at "Clearing Behind Cutting" on the Stuart Highway en route to Katherine. The massive triple trailer road trains that roared by were entertainment for the kids but by 10pm were infrequent enough not to be a bother.
In Katherine the kids and Oma relaxed at the hot springs while I replenished our stores at Woolworths. We then pushed on to Mataranka and our home for the next three nights at the Jalmurark campground in Elsey National Park. We arrived to discover that our booked site was much smaller than anticipated and totally unworkable. After the rigmarole of driving out again to find mobile reception we were lucky enough to swap to a bigger site over the phone. Only a fraction of the thirty odd sites were occupied and with hot showers and a short walk to the beautiful Roper River, it was a great campground.
The strangled braying of donkeys could be heard at intervals through the day and night. A truly insane noise that we never really got used to. There also seemed to be lots of wild pig activity with nearly every inch of ground being turned over. The kids spotted one in the early morning but the donkeys remained heard but not seen.
On our first day we did the 8km Korowan Mataranka Falls return walk alongside the Roper River. We deliberated taking Hugh's heavy bike but despite having to carry it about a quarter of the way over the sandy and rocky patches, it paid off in dividends on the stretches that Hugh could ride. It was the fastest four kilometre return leg we've ever done. The river was so beautiful, crystal clear in most places with lush green underwater plants growing on the fringes. Just when we were convinced that the signs warning of crocs were a hoax we spotted one sunning itself on the opposite bank. The curse of these top end waterways.
That afternoon we drove over to Mataranka thermal pool. My memories of last being there almost 30 years ago were of hundreds of bats hanging above a crystal-clear palm-decked stream, and the stink of wet guano. There was not a bat in sight this time around. The setting was very pretty with towering palms throwing a dappled light and the water was still crystal clear and warm, however the stream bed itself had been completely concreted, so it was like wallowing in a big stone trough rather than a natural spring. Once we looked past the group aquatherapy feel of the place, it was quite pleasant, particularly floating supine and admiring the palm spangled sky.
We also explored the replica Elsey Homestead, jogging my memory of Jeannie Gunn’s “We of the Never Never” which I’d read so many years before.
On our second day the kids and I walked the botanic walk and tried to identify the many bush foods that were described along the way. Unfortunately nothing was ripe to sample, though perhaps safer so. Matthias and Brigitte did a longer river walk and met us for the second half of our walk.
After lunch and a playground in Mataranka we went out to Bitter Springs which was divine, a totally different experience to Mataranka hot springs. I'd heard it was much more natural than its better know neighbour, which I had imagined to mean eroded muddy banks, bat poop and pond slime. Pond slime there was, and for the hirsute or stubbled gentleman it proved at times awkward. And I'm sure some of the hacking sounds that Claire made when taking in a mouthful of water were a response to unintended slime consumption. But generally I was happy to live with the slime, the spring was otherwise so beautiful. There was enough good infrastructure to protect the integrity of the banks without it losing it's natural feel. Our only mistake was to come without goggles as others testified to underwater turtle sightings.
