Woody's World turns left....into Australia

Waking up at Wallaby's fart, I sorted myself out and went downstairs to wait to be picked up. Joining a band of merry tourist on board and you will never guess: what are the chances that out tour guide was called Bruce? “You see where I am going with this can't you? Ah, variation on a theme.”

Bruce, the tour guide, headed off to the first port of call, which was the company head quarters, signing the usual waiver to say if anything happens it is not their fault. Standing around and having a chat about our day, I got the chance to hold a two-year-old croc. If this thing was in `Lilliput' it would have been huge but in the real world, it was about two foot long. It would have made a nice handbag or slippers. We all had our go at holding the handbag, I mean sweet baby croc, getting the usual photos in. Then it was time to head to the river. Arriving, we were met by Bruce the sailboat captain, jumping onboard his boat. `HMS B****xs' for the captain to give us a safety briefing. I tell you these Ozzies are really original with their names. Heading up the river, we were shown these massive crocs; Bruce would place these pieces of meat on a long poll and hang it over the side and these crocs would jump up and take the chunk of meat. Doing the Jap thing and took a few snaps- boom boom!!!!!

Well Bruce our captain gave us an interesting talk about these crocs; how they had these different names, trying to sound impressive, but who gives S***? He would go on to say, “This one is called Daisy.” `It's a F***ing crocodile it bites you and it's going to hurt.' I mean what a load of crap; if the police ask which one attacked you, “Erm it was Daisy”, not the big F***er with your arm hanging out of its mouth. Talk about jazzing it up for the tourists.

As part of our trip we got told a couple of horror stories about tourist and crocodiles; how some girl was thrown off a bridge and eaten by Roger and Dave.

Heading back to shore thanking Bruce of HMS B****xs, piling back into the minibus we were off to Litchfield National Park; I got to be co-pilot and as I did at work, I took the job seriously and nodded off. I do not know what it is with me; I only woke up when Bruce said something. Entering the national park, which was pretty big really, it was pretty arid land, something to do with the lack of water and rainfall or something that they have or have not been having. The park took up a big chunk of the Northern state, about the size of Kent, Sussex and Surrey, if not more. Well, I am a man and six inches is six inches.

Driving around and stopping off at photographic points, Bruce took us to these termite mounds and I must say they were rather large, well over 12ft. I'd hate to see the size of the termite, scary. Driving for about another hour, arriving at this waterfall and stopping for lunch, which was DIY sandwiches, it was all rather pleasant; we were all playing the `who wants the last prawn' game but we did not want to be rude. Having been bought up properly, I took the last prawn. We all sat around chatting; I start talking to this couple whom had got married or plan to get married. Nice couple. They had plans to work for six months or something like that, might have switched off at one point.

Bruce told us we were going to go to these rock pools and have a swim, seeing as it was rather a sub-tropical day. All jumping back on the bus, we headed off to this rock pool.

What Bruce did not tell us was that we had to walk down the side of a hill about 1Km to the rock pool, me with my Speedo's on and being all paranoid that I had not done my Speedo line for a while, always embarrassing. I jumped in and had a splash around and cooled myself down. The water was cold but certainly refreshing, once my nuts had adapted to the temperature and stopped hiding up my arse. Swimming over to this waterfall, I tried to go under it but due to the force, found it somewhat difficult; finally managed it with my doggy paddle technique. A well approved style of swimming - safe, simple and effective. With that little bit of fun out of the way, we headed back up to the van. We had an hour of so drive through the outback to some other rock pools; I was back in the co-pilot seat, checking my eyelids for leaks.

Parked up at these rock pools, which appeared to be a popular tourist spot for the locals as well as us jolly foreigners, Bruce supplied us with some cake and a drink. Just floating in these warm rock pools, bobbing, was like being in a bath.

Time came to head off back to the van for our journey back to Darwin; during our walk back we met the chairman of the Australian tourism board, I believe his name was W****r. Clearly having spent the day drinking and sitting in the sun, he was as pissed as a fart. He started hurtling abuse at us tourist such as (kids cover your eyes)

"You f***ing, w*****s you come to my country, you f***ers C***s, f***ing, t****rs, I'll have you."

Well I spotted a number of faults in his profound statement:

1. This was not his country; it belonged to the Abbo's,

2. His ancestors were put here 200yrs ago, because they were criminals.

3. Apart from that, he must have known me.

4. Finally F***ers C***s does not make grammatical sense; try F***ing C***s.

While we were walking back he starts to walk behind us wanting to fight the guy I mentioned earlier with his girlfriend; I think he made some comment and that was what sparked it up. Anyway Mr Bruce the W****er was a bit like, “Hold me back mate or I'll have him, seriously hold me back.” Oh, what a real hard man; he punches the van window as it is driving away. Ohhh scary. I mean I would have slapped his arse all over the park if I was not held back, seriously, hold me back.

Mmmm, so far Oz is a bit like England, in respect to Neanderthal behaviour UGG!!!!!!!

Oh boy, I do hope he comes to Camberley on a Saturday night and I am working - a quiet little tap on the shoulder, “Can we have a word?” After that little bit of excitement, we headed back to Darwin, stopping off at the beach where we drank the old bubbly stuff whilst watching the sun going down. Bruce dropped us off at our respective hostels; I went off to my pit and then off to Perth tomorrow. Highly recommend the day out; yes it cost about $100 dollars, but due to the size of this country, it costs to travel around. You do get fed well though and see a fair amount.

WOODY'S Australian City Guide:- Darwin, well what can I say? Not a city but a large town, worth a visit but not too long, only enough time so that you can go to the national parks and see the jumping crocs. Other than that, has not really got a lot going for it, but someone has to live there and it's always a good starting point to break you into Oz life gently. I give Darwin 6 out of 10.