THE RED ROAD LESS TRAVELLED
Out in the daylight, Adcock Gorge’s rust-red cliffs gleam like they’re plugged into town power – an impossibility in the outlying King Leopold Ranges.
THIS IS GOING TO GET AWKWARD. Look, I don’t know you, but I’m not sure if you should be reading this. You’ll know in precisely three paragraphs either way – I promise.
For some, this expedition, from Darwin all the way through the Kimberley’s quintessence, could change the way you feel about travelling in your own country, maybe even the way you feel about your country. I’m ‘that guy’, the been-there, it-was-better-10-years-ago travel snob, but it is no exaggeration to say that this road trip rivals any other on any continent. But, here come the buts. Let’s play a game of choose-this-or-another adventure – it’ll be fun.
Does madam/sir: 1. Require a five-star abode? 2. Detest bumpy, dusty roads? 3. Recoil at the thought of getting grubby/sweaty on a hike? 4. Prefer not to rise with the sun? 5. Recoil at the idea of occasionally using a bush-loo?
If you’ve answered “yes” to any of these, thank you for your time. Please enjoy the rest of the magazine! Sincerely.
Still here? Congratulations. Please forgive the Willy-Wonkagolden-ticket inquisition, but we had to melt the snowflakes – you don’t want high-maintenance travellers by your side where we’re about to go.
On the skin of my knees, I gracelessly shimmy past ground-to-ceiling spiderwebs bouncer-ed by two St Andrew’s Crosses with leg spans like LeBron James’s hands. A wasps’ nest equivalent of a backpacker house party sentinels the water-side cave, too.
Out in the daylight, Adcock Gorge’s rust-red cliffs gleam like they’re plugged into town power – an impossibility in the
