Life in the tropics

Yesterday it was 13 degrees in Melbourne.  It was 33 degrees in Darwin.  It is much the same story today, except three degrees cooler in Melbourne.  Yesterday I sat outside a cafe on the edge of the Smith Street Mall  and ate lunch.  Nearby a man dressed in a collared shirt talked too loudly on his mobile phone.  I wonder if he's a minder for a politician as the conversation moves to management of Twitter, Facebook and media dates.  The name "Warren" is mentioned, so it's either Warren Snowden, Member for Lingiari (ALP) or Warren Truss, leader of the National Party.  I shudder as I realise that I was him a few years ago.

Politics seems a long way away as I enjoy a day off, even though Darwin is synonymous with politics for me.  As I move around the city I recall the long days of campaigning in the 2007 election.  Streets are familiar and I know I must have door knocked particular houses.

I restrain my attraction to brightly coloured clothes in tropical prints and Balinese batik, reminding myself that I live in Melbourne.  

Yarnbomb! Darwin
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I noticed a tree in the Smith Street Mall has been yarn bombed, including a cheeky caterpillar and reflect that you'd have to do something with your knitting up here - too hot to wear it!

It's a beautiful time of year up here.  The air is dry and warm.  The skies endlessly blue.  The mornings and evenings are gorgeous.  This morning, I woke just before dawn with a breeze blowing through the wall of louvers in my bed room.  Palm trees planted close to the house combined with the sound of unfamiliar birds give the feeling of being somewhere in the jungle.  What a beautiful environment in which to surface to consciousness. 

I took my friend for dinner at Stokes Hill Wharf to take in my final night in Darwin.  The boats out in the harbour shone their lights and the water changed colour as the sun set.  We ate oysters so fresh they tasted of the sea, barramundi and prawns.  It was dark when we left and the place was still crowded with people.

Whenever I come to Darwin I find the place so appealing.  The lifestyle feels more laid back and the tropical weather lends an air of permanent holidays.  Thinking about winter back home in Melbourne, I feel the lure.  Then I hear about rents and remember the cost of living and the distance from everywhere and remember what the build up to the wet season is like.  I wonder whether I can find a way to work here during the dry season and be in Melbourne for the rest of the year?  That would be ideal.

Night sky from Stokes Hill Wharf, Darwin
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Sunday in Darwin...bliss

It's far too hot and humid for the dry season in Darwin.  There were even clouds this morning.

After checking out of my hotel, I met some friends for breakfast at the Roma Bar and caught up on news.  Then I went to the art gallery to see the Telstra Awards (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Awards).  There was some gorgeous works and some that did nothing for me, but it did provoke thought about the lines between art and craft.  When does an everyday item cease to be what it is and become art?  The answer today was probably a) when it's made by an artist and/or b) when it's in an art gallery.

A quick market fix at Nightcliff resulted in a purchase of a dress from the $20 rack.  Mindil Beach markets yielded little in the way of interesting purchases (there's only so much batik and tie dye you can have in a Melbourne wardrobe), but I did stop to admire the view.

Mindil Beach, Darwin
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Darwin
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Hotel room rule book

My hotel room is fine, albeit full of strange requests, directions and statements.  For example, in the bathroom, hanging on a hook, is a laminated photograph of a hairdryer which includes the following statement: "FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE A HAIRDRYER IS LOCATED IN THE 2ND DRAWER OF THE DESK".

I'm confused about a few things.  How is it convenient to put the hairdryer in the desk?  Where the hell is the desk anyway? Why is it in the 2nd drawer?  What's wrong with the top drawer or the bottom drawer? Why is there a special hook on which to hang this laminated card when the hook would be the perfect place to put the actual hairdryer?Why does the hairdryer need photo identification?

All of these questions are unanswerable.

Then there is a sign that hangs over the doorknob which declares itself to be "your green card for the environment".  It contains six points, mainly about linen choreography (where to put the towels if you don't want them washed, or if you do want them washed, what to do if you don't want the sheets changed), and a stray instruction to turn the television and lights OFF when you leave the room, before we discover point five:

5. Please be aware that excessive steam build up in your bathroom may activate smoke detectors in your room.   Your co-operation on this matter is greatly appreciated.  

Cooperation is something that I am happy to do where I can, but I'm  confused by this statement.  The only way it can be understood is that it is a request for steam build up to be created.  I washed my hair this morning, but couldn't get the smoke detectors to go off.  The only thing that did happen was the shower wouldn't drain.

Finally, point six on the card is a charming reminder that I'm in the tropics:

6. During your stay in tropical Darwin, you may encounter small insects and ants in your room.       Climatic conditions make them very difficult to eradicate totally.

Now I'm nervous about the other creatures which may find their way in, but relieved to read the fine print on the card.  I am advised that I can call the manager on extension 9 for further clarification.  If I had more energy that might be entertaining.  Instead I'm off to build up excessive steam in the bathroom.

Tropical sunsets

Sunsets are one of the things that you "do" while you're in Darwin.  You can pay to take a sunset cruise on the harbour, or you can head to one of the beaches and watch for free.  It's great to combine a bit of sunset watching with a trip to the Mindil Beach markets.

This is what I did last Sunday - along with a lot of other people.

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Is it any wonder people go to watch the sunset!  It's glorious.

The other great thing to do is have dinner at Stokes Hill Wharf.  The night I went there had been a heavy downpour of rain in the afternoon which left everything refreshed and cleared the humidity.  The night was clear with a gentle breeze.  As we sat on the wharf eating fish and chips, we watched the fish swimming below.  The colours of the night were amazing.

These are the colours - no filter has been applied to this photo.
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Danger in Darwin

My recent visit to Darwin highlighted that danger lurked on every corner.  The day would not be complete without a crocodile story on the front page of the daily paper.  A recent favourite carried the headline Croc eats nine pet dogs.  (Check out the croc photo gallery on the linked page too!) Those crocodiles don't muck around.  Having seen them at feeding time last time I was in Darwin, I don't want to have anything to do with them.  Any of them.  Ever.

Given that the Top End has dinosaurs turning up in people's swimming pools and chowing down on puppies, it's easy to think that they breed them tough up there.  You can't be a wimp a live in the Territory.

After enjoying lunch by the water at Cullen Bay, I spotted this bronze beauty lounging  in the sunshine.

Bronzed. (c) divacultura 2012

It's a shame he had to be mounted on blocks.  If he was just standing on the paving he'd look very realistic.  I studied him, marvelling at the bumps and ripples on his armour plating.  I walked around the other side and noticed a sign.

Keep off crocodile - sharp edges may cause injury.
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So in the land of the tough, there's a warning on the bronze crocodile.  I threw back my head and laughed.  The instruction to "keep off the crocodile" seemed redundant at best; the words "sharp edges may cause injury" seemed to be stating the obvious.  Had someone been injured while climbing on the crocodile and then sued someone?  I looked around and then patted the crocodile.  Would a ranger (curator?) pounce the moment they saw me place myself in peril.  Is this what park rangers do now?  I pictured them hanging signs around the necks of live crocodiles to warn unsuspecting tourists.  If they're not doing this, what are they doing to protect us?  Surely real crocodiles are more dangerous than the bronze statue of a crocodile!

There was another warning about danger which I encountered in another unexpected place.  At the Defence Museum I came upon this sign:

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Clearly when people go troppo they start climbing on things and hurting themselves on the sharp edges.  War materials are inherently dangerous - designed to kill - but we need a warning about sharp edges.

I hadn't noticed this feature of Darwin before.  What had happened in the five years since I had left?  The heat haze made me see sharp edges and danger everywhere.  I looked at the post office and newsagency with new eyes.  They are both in danger of legal action being taken against them for negligence as they lack the appropriate sign:

Pieces of paper may have sharp edges.  To ensure your safety, please handle with care, wearing appropriate personal safety equipment.

 DO NOT CLIMB ON PAPER STACKS. 

Darwin daze

Five years since I was last in Darwin I feel the hot air curtain as I step off the aircraft.  It's a welcome contrast to the 9 degrees Celsius I left behind in Melbourne.  I was in town for a day's work but went up for the weekend before so I could acclimatise and enjoy a tropical mini break.

I was met at the airport gate by a former colleague, which was impressive because the flight has arrived twenty minutes early.  She had seen some backpackers walking (a substantial distance) to the airport and picked them up.  They were French and they were chefs and they were out of money and on their way to Bali.  So there she was.  I was the only one whose "people" were there to meet me.  I felt happy.

As we drove to her place, I was dazzled by the lush green jungle that lazed casually by the roadside.  I remembered how much I'd loved the place.  The halo of frizz was already taking hold of my lustrous locks and I remembered how much I hated the place.

I had come to Darwin on Territory Day in 2007 to lead the "Your Rights at Work" campaign for the CPSU (Community and Public Sector Union).  My focus was the Darwin centred seat of Solomon which was held by the Country Liberal Party (CLP) on a wafer thin margin.  The seat was seen as essential to Labor's federal electoral success.

Six months later my work was done, the Labor candidate victorious, and I returned to Melbourne happy to escape the build up to the wet season.  I'd worked hard, but somehow the tropical lifestyle gave life an air of permanent holidays.  I'd made friends and embraced life.

My host had invited me to the trades and labour council's (Unions NT) annual May Day dinner on Saturday night.  I accepted with some dread initially.  The world of organised labour seemed a long way away and I wasn't sure I really wanted to go; but I was staying at her house and good grace dictated that I had to accept.

My dinner ticket with the slogan "Secure Jobs, better future.  Every Territorian deserves a secure job"
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In the end I was really pleased I did go.  I reconnected with people I had campaigned with five years ago and I met the next generation of young organisers and delegates who don't even know my name.  It was great to see this.  It's an election year in the Territory and time already spent in government is going to make it difficult for Labor to return to power. The dinner speeches were heavy on politics and it was great to reach the awards part of the evening.

My favourite awards are about workplace delegates who volunteer their time and often stick their neck out to support their colleagues.  It's where I started and I know how hard it can be.  A long standing delegate from one of the blue collar unions was recognised with a lifetime achievement award.  The story of his contribution was told by a fellow delegate with good humour and respect.  He was described as turning up to meetings with his legendary bag.  That bag carried every document relevant to every determination, decision and agreement covering workers in his workplace.  He knew the history of every issue and why certain agreements had been struck.  He knew the purpose and intention sitting behind every line in every document and could produce these documents at a moment's notice - complete with notations and coffee stains.

The room erupted into applause as a man with long grey hair and beard, wearing black pants and a black shirt took the podium and accepted his award.  He made his way to the microphone to make his acceptance speech and couldn't speak.  He was overwhelmed at the recognition and managed to just say "thank you" as his emotion spilled over.  These two words carried so much meaning in their humility.  It was a wonderful end to the formal part of the evening.

The dinner was held at Sky City Casino.  The view at dusk from the picture windows was wonderful.

Darwin city skyline at dusk - from Sky City Casino, third floor.
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The room looked wonderful too, with union banners on display all around the room.  Here's the old PSU Northern Territory Branch banner:

The traditional PSU banner depicting the various occupations of members.
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I didn't make it to the May Day march on Monday afternoon.  I was resting in my air conditioned hotel room.  The sound of bagpipes pierced my cyclone proof windows (what would a march be without the bagpipes?) and I went down to the esplanade to enjoy an evening walk and take in the festivities.  There was an air of celebration and family.  A combined union band was playing funk and blues and they were fantastic.  So was the sound.

It's interesting to revisit not only a place, but a time of one's life.  Some former colleagues recoiled when I told them that I am now a business owner and it's my company's first birthday this week. As though my values that I slaved in support of had been surgically removed and I was now a member of a different class, an enemy class.  That was disappointing and I wanted to scream at them.  Instead, I took my complimentary $5 chip and made quite a bit on the money wheel.

Summer heat - officially gone troppo

It's so hot this evening, it's almost to hot to watch the men's final of the Australian Open tennis, let alone play tennis.  The wind is teasing, pretending that it's going to blow through a change, but it's full of hot air.

It's so hot, my eyelids are sweating.  My skin is sticky with perspiration and my hair is piled on top of my head as I try and keep my neck cool.  It's humid.  It's not supposed to be humid in Melbourne!  There was supposed to be no more of that when I left Brisbane for southern climes.

One of the things I love about weather is that people talk about it.  As though there's something deeply bonding in the joint admission that it is hot, or cold, or windy, or wet.  What is left to say?

There was a bloke I knew once.  His boss had a multipurpose statement that worked in all conversational settings and could be uttered without interruption:

"Oh-it's-hot-I'm-hot-are-you-hot?"

I suspect he came from somewhere in North Queensland where the local greeting is equally efficient, especially when little or no articulation is applied to its utterance:

"G'day-how-ya-going-good?"

The answer to both these questions/statements is "yep", said without pronouncing the first or final consonant.  In that regard it shares a startling resemblance to Portuguese.  But I digress.

As I languish in this heat, I recall the six months I spent working in Darwin as the build-up began.  It was an extraordinary feeling, like being in a pressure cooker where the pressure builds and builds and builds and builds for weeks and weeks and weeks.  It does something to your mind.  The local newspaper even featured an editorial on the phenomenon known as "going troppo" or "mango madness".  I have since discovered that the effects of the build-up feature regularly in the paper and usually reference random acts of violence or displays of anger from normally serene people. (Here's an example.)

So here I sit. Not on the couch - it's too hot to sit on.  I'm contemplating another cold shower and am wishing the shape of the cubicle was more conducive to sleep.

I'm too tired to stay awake and too hot to sleep.  What to do...research airconditioners online.