This morning we head out along the Arnhem Highway to the Adelaide River where weve booked to watch the Jumping Crocodiles. We drive past seemingly endless fields of mango trees. Absolutely endless. There must surely be enough of these delicious fruit grown here to feed the entire worlds population of mango lovers. We board our craft and our guides Wookie and Noah launch into the obligatory safety briefing. Were given a long lesson on how to put on our life jackets, which they tell us theyre legally required to do. They then quickly add that if were unlucky enough to fall overboard into this croc infested soup, drowningll be the least of our worries. The crocs are clearly used to the routine - they swim enthusiastically towards the boat as we approach. Our guides have got names for all of them - Casanova, Pearl, Mama and Rockeye to name a few. One young lad on board seems to be just a tad concerned for his safety. He asks our guides whether a croc has ever jumped into the boat. A few minutes later he raises his hand again. This time its has a croc ever nearly jumped into the boat. I think the answers no, although its a bit worrying that the response is slightly delayed. The crocs are all very obliging in leaping high out of the water to catch the bait on offer. Were told that most of them have multiple fathers; it seems that if a female has been down and dirty with more than one bloke, all the male DNA somehow gets into all the eggs. Were told that none of these reptilian monsters are particularly friendly, even to each other. This is fairly evident from Mama, who seems to be missing a few limbs. Our guides point out the kites (birds of prey) flying overhead. They throw them a few tasty morsels which theyre able to swoop down and catch with seemingly little effort. Theyre apparently voracious predators. Theyre particularly attracted to fires which leaves their prey more exposed and a bit easier to catch. It seems that theyre the animal kingdoms answer to firebugs; if theres not enough prey to go around at one fire, theyve apparently been known to swoop down, gather up some of the embers, and deposit them somewhere else to start a new one. name of the town Humpty Doo just makes her want to giggle, and we must stop at the pub there for lunch. It looks like a Territory institution with buffalo horns perched prominently above the bar. On the way back to Darwin on yet another apparent feature of life here - a preponderance of fireworks for sale. Were fairly sure theyre illegal just about everywhere else in Oz, but the manufacturers seem to be more for that here. If the number of ads are anything to go by there must be enough on offer to blow up a small town. Weve no sooner finished this discussion when we spy a massive plume of thick black smoke up ahead, and police cars blocking off the roads leading towards it. ... a mishap at one of the fireworks factories perhaps - maybe its just as well theyre banned everywhere else in the country. Weve been warned to fill in our COVID entry permits for Western Australia well in advance, so we launch into the process. Questions include where were going to quarantine if we need to, how and how long it will take to get there, how were going to manage fatigue along the way, and how were planning to get food in while were locked up. Im not quite sure why all this is necessary - if we thought we were going to get quarantined there we wouldnt go. Were told that our applications will be subject to intense scrutiny. Both are approved within a minute. This is a bit worrying because it seems I‘ve accidentally put my name on Issys application by mistake, but with her date of birth, gender, and proof of identity document. Hmmm. If this is the level of scrutiny that the authorities are applying, no wonder half the countrys awash with COVID. Weve booked in for tepanyaki at a Japanese restaurant across the road from our apartment.