Day 33- Down Under

The crowd at 'Youth Shack' hostel in Darwin maybe isn't what you'd expect.

It seems that here is a stretch too far for the average backpacking tour, unless you're German or Dutch (nothing can stop these guys). There's certainly no sign of the school leaving parties. It's only the serious travel addicts that have made it here: the couples on their seventh month on the road, with forty different flags sewn onto their rucksacks; the thirty year olds who never stopped, and now live in hostel dorms and work on construction sites to keep their visas.

Despite the mixture of Ozzie accents with British and Irish and French and American and everything in between, I can't help but miss the diversity of Malaysia and Singapore. It's a shock going back to one culture. Hang on, aren't there two?

What happened to the aborigines? How have they ended up sitting on the streets, always separate from the whites, with apparently nothing to do? I can see there are attempts to integrate them into Australian society, and I may be talking only about a minority of the aborigine people. Nevertheless, it takes less than 24 hours in the country to feel the tension, to tell that something has gone wrong. 

Apart from this point, and the incredible prices, life is now easy going. 

"The last thing we want to do is to leave anyone behind, so make sure you're back for 5pm". Imagine the bus driver saying that in Malaysia!

It's true, the wildlife here is different.

Reading the local paper in the park before catching my bus to Alice Springs. Let's hope the driver keeps an eye out for buffalo.