Was in a bit of a rush with my last e-mail. More memories of Kakadu:

Our first stop was at a little restaurant/bar just outside of the park and
home of Charlie the buffalo from Crocodile Dundee. Then we took a cruise
down Adelaide River, a tributary of Alligator River (named by idiotic
explorers who thought that the crocodiles were alligators). Our boat was
designed to give us a close-up view of crocs jumping out of the water when
they dangled red meat over the side of the boat. Pretty exciting stuff.

NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART... We also got to hear the story about Ginger
Meadows, an American tourist who was attacked and eaten by a croc. Emma,
one of the girls on my bus, bought a book called "Crocodile Attack" which
told the story in gut-wrenching detail. Apparently, Ginger, a perky
25-year-old redhead and a good swimmer, was swimming in a small creek with
her friend Jane. Jane wanted to turn back because, you guessed it, she had
a "bad feeling" about it. Moments later, one of their tour guides spotted
the croc from an embankment above the water. He screamed to the girls to
get out of the water, but they both froze. At the last second, Ginger
decided to make a break for the shore while Jane remained frozen in the
water. The croc turned toward Ginger and chomped on her, pulling her
underwater. Things were silent for a moment before she emerged again in the
crocs mouth, holding her arms out but not making a sound. The croc then
pulled her under again, and that was the last time she was seen.

We walked through the rainforest and learned a lot about the different fauna
and flora of Kakadu. He convinced us to suck on weeds and eat green ants.
Their green butts taste a lot like lemon. One of the German guys travelling
with us said it tasted like the ants were "pissing on your tongue". Every
time we got to a creek, naturally, everyone was scared shitless of the
crocs.

We hiked up to Nourlangie Rock, one of the oldest rock formations in the
park. An overhang on one side has been an Aboriginal shelter for thousands
of years and is covered with ancient Aboriginal rock art. Most of the
paintings are relatively new, dating from the arrival of European explorers
about 200 years ago. But we saw one kangaroo, painted in red and about three
feet tall, which is at least 4,000 years old, and possibly 30,000 or 40,000
years old, painted at a time when when the coastline was hundreds of
kilometers farther out and Kakadu was a desert. Kangaroos, which thrive in
drier climates, haven't been in Kakadu for thousands of years. It's
mind-boggling. Definitely the oldest thing I have ever seen.

Travis told us that the last member of the Aboriginal tribe that painted all
of Kakadu's rock art died, unfortunately, in 1968, so there aren't many
people around who know what all the paintings mean or how old they are. We
know that all of the rock art was painted by men, they had a god which threw
yams at promiscuous young women, and that every god had an enormous penis,
but not much else.

Travis went on to give us a short history of Aboriginal life in Australia.
The story is similar to the US. Nasty White Europeans came over in huge,
menacing boats and proclaimed the land as their own. They dealt with the
Aboriginals much like they dealt with the American Indians, kicking them off
their land, betraying them, poisoning them, enslaving them, and taking their
women. Then, after effectively taking over the continent and destroying the
Aboriginal way of life forever, they found a way to coexist. Apparently,
every Aboriginal tribe in Australia, even those which distance themselves
from Western civilization, retain some aspect of European culture, whether
it's clothing, drinking, schooling, or Nintendo. Things will never be the
same for them.

Interestingly enough, the last Aboriginal clan in Australia to come into
contact with the White man did so in the 1960s. It was near Alice Springs.

On the way out of the park, Travis showed us a strychnine tree and told us
not to eat the berries. Then we drove by a termite hill that was about 20
feet tall and about 70 years old. Travis knew everything about termites,
too. Our last stop was at Harris Springs, where enormous barramundi (the
bad-ass Australian fish to catch and eat) make their home.

It's a good thing I left Kakadu when I did. The rains have returned, and
the entire park and surrounding towns are underwater.

No Regrets.

Jeff