Mindil Beach Markets

Sunday 26th August

The bat phone has been going off again this evening, which is a bloody cheek given that it's been going off ever since Ella and I arrived in Darwin. It's a diplomatic issue apparently; though I can't say too much about it because there's probably also a confidentially issue, so I'll just say that a very very senior East Timor politician needs airlifting to Darwin for treatment and the Australian government have become involved in working out who's going out pay the bill (after all, these medics need an in-flight meal and somebody's got to pay for it). Anyway, suffice to say that the prime minister is now involved and by 8.30pm Darren had been stood down for the evening, so it's not going to happen tonight.

This has left us free to explore the Mindil Beach markets (Thursday and Sunday evenings), which are very similar to the sort of markets you find all over Thailand, though selling aboriginal artefacts rather than cheap silver jewellery. There's all sorts of street food to choose from (including the Roadkill Barbeque, which promises "you kill it, we'll cook it", though if you've not run over anything lately, they're doing a nice line in crocodile and kangaroo, and even some tasty possum kebabs, though I don't even want to think about that).

Then the sun goes down (lots of bush smoke tonight, meaning an even bigger and redder sun) and the entertainers start. Ella enjoyed the fire-juggler, but not as much as she enjoyed rattling her new shaker in time with the snake dancer, who was wearing a snake-skin bra at least three sizes too small; her left tit making a downward break for freedom every couple of minutes.

"Do come over and give me some feedback" she encouraged as she stopped gyrating and started handing round the hat. The temptation to say "buy a bra that fits" was almost too much to bear.