It starts as a quiet rustle in the trees, the odd flapping and squawk, and soon grows to a deafening sound as the flying foxes greet the dawn. All thoughts of extra sleep are abandoned, and I turn on my headtorch, fumble around for my clothes and crawl out of my tent.

An hour later we’ve devoured a hot croissant, hopped across the river on the ferry and stand ready to embark on our adventure.

The Jutbula Trail is a 62km track following the western edge of the Arnhem Land escarpment in Nitmiluk National Park, Northern Territory. It’s named after Peter Jatbula, a Jawoyn man who was instrumental in securing land rights for his people and who walked this route with his family.

We’ve chosen to walk it over 5 days, camping each night by water running freely after a good 2020/21 wet season. Only 15 people can start the walk each day, and bookings are fiercely competitive – I was poised online at 10am, 1st November 2019 when they opened for the following season. CVOID delayed the trip a year.

My walking buddies are Louise – we went to school together and amazingly reconnected after literally crossing paths in Kakadu NP a few years ago; Sally, who I met through an organised walk in Kakadu NP; and Michele, my sister’s schoolfriend. Sal, Michele and I walked together in Nepal, and found we have a rhythm that works.

Day 1 we pass by Northern Rockhole and then head up onto the escarpment. Smoky air and a few smouldering logs after a recent fire – but these are cool fires, in the right season, that mainly burn the grassy ground layer.

We arrive at our first camp – Biddlecombe Falls – about 11am. Just an 8.3km stroll – but I’m adjusting to the heat and a heavy pack, and lie flat on the ground for a good while after arriving. We swim, have lunch and then wander off to do our own thing, reading, swimming or napping in the shade. Too hot to do much else. Helicopters fly overhead a few times during the next 2 days, somewhat taking the edge off that ‘wilderness’ feeling. I carefully search the skies before jumping into a deep lower rock pool, just the water against my skin.

As the shadows deepen we regroup and rustle around in our packs for dinner. I’ve opted for dehydrated food to keep the weight down, and experimented with my dehydrator at home. While the spaghetti is quite edible, the apple crumble becomes a rather stodgy mass once rehydrated, since I forgot to separate out the crumble and fruit! Sal and Louise share gourmet meals with some fresh things thrown in, while Michele is also going with the reliable readymade dried meals. My fuel stove provides a bit of excitement – flames shoot out when I light it and threaten to burn down the grassy campsite – quick thinking Sal dowses it with water. It happens again the following day, and this time I race to the water and dunk the whole thing underneath, starving it of oxygen. I finally remember how to attach everything properly and the fine tuning needed to light it, and manage not to burn the whole place down for the rest of the trip.

By 7pm it’s dark and we retreat to our tents. No fires allowed, and the insects are hovering around with great interest. Since we get up with the light, this makes for a very long night! Each of our mattresses rustles as we turn over, the odd snore is heard and it’s fair to say I don’t have the best of sleeps. The first night I have some weird dream featuring Tom Cruise (?!!), and frankly the dreams don’t improve much from there!

Louise isn’t feeling so flash by the end of Day 1 and looks pale in the morning. She divests her pack of a few heavy things, and manages to walk through Day 2 with quiet determination – a trooper! We have a satellite phone with us, in case of emergencies, and there is a safety call-in/beacon at each camp ground … we later hear there was a helicopter rescue while we were on the track, a not infrequent event.

We’re sharing the walk with a young couple (backpackers) who are quiet but friendly, and two young women. While we search out the shade in the midday sun, they sunbathe on the rocks, laughing and taking endless selfies: one swims along the deep pool filming herself. We chuckle to ourselves – ah young people !

The first equipment failure becomes apparent by Day 2. My smart magenta walking shirt boasts extra sun protection, and seemed the perfect choice. Alas, being made from 100% polyester it is also VERY HOT and sweaty, a design feature I’d overlooked in my desire for something that wasn’t blue or beige. Slinging my wet bikini’s round my neck helps cool me down a bit, but it’ll be back to my faithful old blue shirt next time.

It is serene and peaceful, floating in the water under clear skies: looking at the petals of a water lily, watching a blue dragonfly hover, lying on shady rocks as birds dart over the water in the late afternoon. No connection to the outside world. Being here, deep in nature, is all that matters.

On the third day we pass sandstone outcrops with rock art, and further along drop down into a cool shady amphitheatre with more paintings.

The painting on the right is a Jawoyn lady looking for a special man. Dressed up and painted, a lady would use this painting – like a love potion. Apparently she would come here and dance all night and day to get the man she wants. Ah, so that’s where I’m going wrong !

On Day 4 we are up at 5am and walking by 6 to enjoy the cool before the sun rises, following the reflective trail markers with our head torches. 16.8km, our longest day. Michele strides out in the lead, I bring up the rear, somewhat slower than the rest. I put it down to short legs and a shorter stride! Around 6.45am the birds start singing, and I hear the plaintive call of a dingo in the distance. We pass tall pale termite mounds, and an area with a strong aromatic smell. This part of the walk is perhaps the most interesting with a diversity of vegetation and things to see.

Part way through the day comes the second major equipment failure, as Louise’s soles begin parting company from her boots. Sole failure is a well-known Top End phenomenon (all that nasty heat and humidity), and duct tape is an essential item for the seasoned walker. Luckily I’d packed some, and Sal got to work using the rear hind manoeuvre. The boots hung on til the end of the walk … just.

We camp by a deep pool on the final night, warm at the surface but chilly underneath.

The final day, 15.6km. I have blisters under both big toes, and at morning tea bolster myself with Nurofen and energy goo (a sticky mix of caffeine and sugar). I’m taking no chances. We arrive at Sweetwater and civilisation intrudes – day trippers everywhere, a rude shock after the solitude. Along the track we pass blokes in shorts and thongs, women in bikini tops – its a good 4.5km between Edith Falls and Sweetwater – what are they thinking? Tourists!~

And then we head down that last hill and arrive at Edith Falls, the end of our adventure.

That night we camp at Nitmiluk NP again, enjoying hot showers, cocktails and fresh food. After breakfast at the fabulous Finch Cafe in Katherine , we head down to Bitter Springs at Mataranka. It is also heaving with people, but I shift them to my periphery as I float downstream with my noodle – so entranced with the place that I leave the others waiting – very patiently I should say.

I spend my final days in Darwin staying with Benita, right next door to my old home, and revisiting my favourite spots. I thought I might regret leaving, but while I loved my visit, I didn’t long to be living there again. Just bursts of NT life will do me.

I come home feeling warm, nurtured, relaxed and expansive, and with a sense of achievement. There’s something wonderful about sharing time with other women out in nature, and ideas are already flowing for our next trip.

As I write this the wind is blowing, the skies are grey and its 6 degrees outside, but feels like minus 2. It’s snowing in the mountains nearby. And I wish, oh I wish, I was somewhere warmer again ……

Photo credits: Kath and Michele