‘Origami’ is the word that springs to mind as an insect the size of my hand elegantly unfolds itself from the top corner of my luxury tent at Kings Creek Station in Watarrka National Park: a campsite which, from space, wouldn’t even be a speck on the expansive ochre desert that makes up one sixth of Australia’s landmass. The winged creature looks me dead in the eye. Is it a cricket? A mantis? A giant locust like in Jurassic World Dominion? Is it really as big as my fear insists? How the hell did it get in here? Does this mean that the highly venomous desert death adder, common to the region, is going to slither into my resplendent bedding, via my ensuite, when I turn the lights out? First world problems and all. (Spoiler alert: that doesn’t happen.)
I’m already on high insect alert from. High winds have knocked out the wi-fi and I’m all alone, so my entertainment options are as follows: a fire I light myself (gleefully, for the first time ever, albeit with firelighters conveniently provided for me, so I’m hardly Bear Grylls), a typically dramatic Northern Territory sunset and, in the distance, the proud red rock cliffs of Kings Canyon, which rise like an immobilised wave from an ocean of fire. The George Gill Range, home to the Luritja people for more than 20,000 years, hum with energy and history. Then there are the stars. In the Northern Territory — or NT — a lack of chemical and light pollution makes stargazing an hours-long occupation every night. Who needs screens?
