My Northern Literary Adventure: One Year On

I acknowledge the Larrakia people of the Garramilla/Darwin region who are the traditional owners of the land I am writing about in this post. I acknowledge all elders of the past, present and future.

This week I am reminiscing on my first trip to the Northern Territory. I can’t believe it has already been a year. Twelve months on, I look back on this experience with such fondness. It was truly life changing, in more ways than one. I have so enjoyed revisiting these memories, and I hope you will be inspired as much as I was.

Arriving

On the Winter Solstice of 2022, I set out on a literary adventure to Garramilla/Darwin in the Northern Territory.

I rose at 5.30am on a cold June morning for an 8.10 flight from Brisbane. I was rugged up in jeans and a woollen cardigan, with a T-shirt and shorts packed in my carry-on.

I spent the four-hour flight re-working a crime short story titled ‘Kindred Counsel’, which I was submitting to the SD Harvey Short Crime Story Award in just a few days.

We landed to find Darwin International Airport in the grips of a security breach. We were ordered to exit the plane and proceed straight to the baggage collection carousel without delay. There were federal police everywhere, and the queues to get through security into departure lounge were lengthy. I was glad I wasn’t flying out that day.

It took awhile to figure out how to get into town. I had done my research on public transport options prior to my departure, but once I arrived I discovered the bus stop was a ten-minute walk down the highway from the airport. The shuttle bus only dropped off at the city hotels. I ended up having to call an Uber, which I quickly learned was the preferred method of transport in Darwin.

I arrived at my Airbnb accommodation, a room in a small two-bedroom apartment in Stuart Park, an inner-city suburb of Darwin. Once I’d settled in, I headed straight out again on foot. I was on a mission for groceries and a transit card.

I started my first morning in Darwin catching up with an expat friend. When she had to leave for work, I decided to explore. In Bennett Park I happened upon ‘Lunch on the Lawn’, a free program offering live music from local artists. I relaxed back in a beanbag and listened to a country music singer while I caught up on my travel journalling.

That evening I was attending the Chief Minister’s Book Awards, the first event of the NT Writer’s Festival. I found the Northern Territory Library tucked inside Parliament House, a magnificent example of tropical architecture. It was a glorious building inside and out. There, I drank wine and ate hors d’oeuvres as I chatted to a couple who had travelled from Melbourne to celebrate their author friend at the awards. Behind us, I watched the pink hues of the sunset through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

We settled into our seats for the awards ceremony, hosted by the Honourable Chanston ‘Chansey’ Paech, whose titles include Attorney-General and Minister for Justice, Minister for Arts, Culture and Heritage, and Minister for Desert Knowledge Australia. A proud Arrernte man of Mparntwe (Alice Springs), Chansey spoke passionately about the importance of storytelling, and how the practice entwines with indigenous culture. He explained that, whether indigenous or not, as writers we are all part of the storytelling culture of Australia. It was so inspiring to learn all about the writing community in the Northern Territory. I was so far from home, but being in a room with like-minded people, I realised that writing communities are everywhere. No matter where I ventured, I would find my people and be warmly welcomed.

The next day, I walked into town and had lunch at the Waterfront Precinct, at a bar and restaurant called Snapper Rocks. The name was reminiscent of my favourite beach back home on the Gold Coast. I had sipped a Mai Tai and ate crocodile bao buns while researching orcs and elves for a fantasy short story I was working on.

I went for a walk around Stokes Hill Wharf before walking back into town and catching a bus back to Stuart Park. After a quick turnaround I headed out again, walking to the Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territory via the George Brown Darwin Botanic Gardens.

The Writers Festival opened in smoke and ceremony on the lawn of the Museum and Art Gallery of the NT. There, I listened to writers and poets read their works as the sun set with magnificence over the Timor Sea.

The Festival Begins