Our last stop of the day was Buley Rockhole, a series of waterfalls and (very deep) plungepools forming "natures own five star spa" according to the guide books.
The waterfalls are certainly invigorating if you can get up enough steam to swim against the current in order to reach them; far better to do what Darren did and dive right in but I've never been one for jumping into water so loitered around the slipperly rocks instead. When I finally did venture in it was so difficult to get back out that I ended up with the bottom half of my cozzie (which is a long top and knickers ensemble) rolled down under my belly, my worst nightmare on a swanky Sydney beach, though somehow irrelevant out here in the wilds.
Darren was having a great time in the water until a huge goanna decided to join him, then he retreated at a respectable pace, just in case I thought he was running away. He didn't fool me; there was no way he was sharing the pool with a bloody great lizard.
Then we met a couple from Melbourne (a pair of so-called grey nomads; retired Aussies who just wander about in camper vans following the sun) who told me the Aussies refer to Kakadu as Kaka-don't and suddenly I wasn't sure I wanted to spend three nights there after all.
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