Darwin - Evolution or just Coincidence

I have always wanted to go to Darwin, ever since I found out that it was a place when I was a kid. It always seemed like this exotic far-away place that was yet to be discovered by most, but discovered enough so that I didn't have to hack my way through mangroves and fight crocodiles with my fists and a blunt razor to find it.

Now that I am here I have come to the conclusion that it is much pretty like Wollongong or Newcastle, except in a sauna. The first afternoon here I checked into the office, said g'day, and then went for an explore around the town. I stumbled across a pub that looks like it was there during the cyclone and no one bothered to whip around with a hammer and a few nails. The anthropologist in me said 'go and buy a beer and sit out the front on a bar stool like the other four blokes to get a feel for Darwin'. The beer drinker in me said 'go and get a beer, I don't give a shit where you sit'. So I grabbed a beer after much arm-twisting and went and sat on a bar stool. From this vantage point I worked out that the men of Darwin sit silently, sipping their beer watching traffic go past. They only turn their heads when young female backpackers go past. I finished my beer and wandered off with a strange sense of fulfilment.

I eventually found the ubiquitous backpacker precinct with the ubiquitous Irish pub with a name like 'O'Reillies' or Shenanigans or something. I would have been more tempted to name it something like 'O'What place does an Irish pub have in Darwin'.

I sat had a beer and waited for the restaurants to open. My stomach was of the opinion that the time really was 6:30 although the sun in the sky was convinced that it was only 5:00. Beer was going to my head violently and dangerously, and I was sweating so much my eyes were filling up. Using my pen was like writing with a bar of soap.

Time to move to another pub...

I ended up sitting across the road from the Indian restaurant, gin and tonic in hand, feeling even worse. 6pm came and went and there was no sign of movement in the restaurant, so I did what I was desperately trying to avoid all along. Sitting in the hotel restaurant, by myself, staring out at the world through sad, lonely eyes. There must be some sort of a look lone travellers have, because upon arival the waiter showed me to a single seat and brought out a glass of shiraz large enough to drown my sorrows and two large horses.

So there endeth my first day in Darwin; me, a meal, wine, a street view and the only company available was a boot that someone had thoughtfully thrown up onth the roof of the shed across the road.