All About Kakadu National Park

It’s BIG.

“How big?” you may well ask. Let’s make it easy: for US residents, Kakadu, at 6,500 square miles, is bigger than Connecticut (5,400) and smaller than New Jersey (8,700). UK residents will find it easier to compare to Wales, which at 8,000 square miles is 20% bigger than Kakadu; while mainland Europeans will be more at home with the comparison to Belgium, which at 11,800 square miles is not quite twice the size of Kakadu. So it’s big. You can’t walk around it in a day or even a month: it’s too hot. Let’s discuss that next.

It’s HOT.

Except for when it’s wet. It’s still hot then, but you won’t notice that one little bit when it’s raining, because the rain up there is full on, as we say in Australia. If you’re under a tin roof you won’t hear yourself think, let alone talk. The locals don’t think in terms of our four seasons: they recognize six discrete seasons including one that roughly translates as “Knock ‘em down storm” season. Enough said, I suppose. Some of the seasonal variations are subtle, others obvious, but to survive and live well in this environment you need to know the patterns of the land and the animals that provide your tucker.

It’s an ART MUSEUM.

No dealers, no Gallery Openings on Thursday nights, no downtown scene with hot new artists. Just 40,000-year-old rock art, focused on telling the dreamtime stories and not straying far from a few themes. Graffiti never seemed so respectable; and what a turn-up for the books when the local authorities spend their time protecting the “street art” and not erasing it. You don’t have to be an art lover to be amazed by this stuff. Yo do, however, need a hat, good shoes and plenty of water, as some of the walks you’ll take around this gallery will wear you out otherwise!

The locals are LOCAL.

Living in a place like this, where nature dominates so completely, puts “our modern life” into sharp perspective. So the locals don’t spend their time updating their Facebook status, texting their friends, making dinner reservations or any of that stuff. They’re more likely to be sitting on a rock with a mate, watching the sunset, having a beer and discussing a croc they saw that day, spying a Jabiru coming into its nest, maybe eating a few green ants. If they’re discussing life outside Kakadu they’re probably talking about football; and half the year they’re not even bothered about that. Spend enough time here and the rest of the world gets crowded out, it’s as simple as that.

Tourism WORKS.

Kakadu is governed collectively by the local indigenous people and the Territory and Federal governments. So everything that happens here gets endlessly worked over and talked about and churned through the bureaucracy before it becomes a reality. On top of that there’s the complication of being a World Heritage listed area, and all the rules that come along with such an elevated status. Somehow (who knew?) the process seems to work… not just well, but brilliantly. Tourism operators with licenses to operate here are strictly controlled and must maintain the highest standards; that becomes obvious as soon as you board one of the special off-road vehicles that criss-cross the park. All the facilities, whether it be signs or paths or boats or landings are all first class and well-maintained and staffed and they just seem to work right.

All in all: Kakadu ROCKS.