Laid Back in Alice

We’ve had an intense several days so a leisurely morning is most welcome. At 9:00 A.M. I tiptoe down to the dining room and find it closing, but am able to scrounge a cup of coffee and I sit and write. I wake John at 11:00 A.M. and we arrange for a taxi to take us to the Desert Park Museum; a $20 taxi ride as well as a $20 entrance fee. There are no local busses and we must wait an hour for our taxi.

We have heard good things about the Desert Park Museum, but are disappointed. We stroll the designated walkways, dutifully reading the information signage with as much enthusiasm as we can muster. The kangaroos are even lethargic, hopping away only when John steps a little too close for their comfort. We watch the park’s 20 minute information film, a very amateuristic overview that leaves us more confused than informed. To give some credit, the nocturnal house is well presented and we spend an hour viewing the dimly illuminated habitats in search of spiniflex mice and other illusive and endangered rodents. Their reptile exhibit is within the nocturnal house and included in their collection is a habitat housing 3 thorny devil lizards. We are happy to have a second, more leisurely opportunity to watch these amazing camouflaged armored lizards. We end our visit at the bird show, watching birds of prey soar in from the sidelines, snatching tidbits of meat mid air.

This is the weekend for the annual Alice Spring Show, which is equivalent to a county fair. We catch a return shuttle from the Desert Park Museum and request to be dropped off at the “Show.” It is exactly 5:00 P.M. when we enter the gates and we are delighted that admission is free after five. The exhibit halls are beginning to close but we have time to spend 30 minutes wandering through local exhibits of photography, needlework, and baking. Another hall houses the vendors and nonprofit booths. John and I both halt at a table where a magazine is open to a marine iguana article. The title of the article is “Imps of Darkness.” It takes us a moment to grasp that all the pamphlets on this table are about Creationism and we gather up a pile of brochures answering questions about natural selection, continental drift and “How did Noah fit all the animals onto his arc?” We read these later and find them well written, thought provoking and somewhat amusing.

The exhibit halls close and John and I wander outside to the carnival. There is an excited energy in the air as dusk descends and the bright lights of the amusement rides flash and twirl. This is a big weekend for the locals of Alice Springs and the young people are out in droves. There are groups of both white and Aboriginal youths, and the air is thick with the aroma of sweat mingled with cotton candy, corn dogs and popcorn. One can quickly loose $5.00 at any number of arcade games and John plays one ball toss. John and I are an oddity, but John’s self confidence allows him to boogie freely to the music while a group of young Aborigines children stand by watching shyly.

An hour later, on our way out, we pass a boxing arena. A garish canvass tent is erected and a weather worn hawker stands on a wooden platform above the tent’s doorway, loud speaker in hand, beckoning the public to challenge the fighters. Also standing upon the sagging wooden platform and wearing skimpy satin yellow shorts and capes are the fighters, strutting and flexing their muscles and doing their best not to shiver in the chill of the night. John wants to watch the fights and although it may not be my thing; I understand that he boxes at home and that this is important to him. It is long past dark and very cold and the hawker is doing an excellent job of gathering a crowd. I wish for the selection of challengers to be quick, but this is a carnival and the hyped up selection takes over an hour. 6 fighters are matched with 6 local challengers and the tent doors open. There is a frenzy of excitement and John and I go with the flow of bodies, pay our $15.00 each and find a place to watch, standing in the red dirt, at the edge of the ring. There are slightly over 100 spectators and all of us get a prime viewing position. There are 6 fights, 3 rounds each and John is enthusiastic and cheers the contenders on. The next hour passes slowly for me; but no one is seriously hurt or terribly humiliated and after the show, we exit the tent and head off to find a taxi back to our hotel. John pleads with me, asking to stay for the second fight and be a challenger, but I insist that we return to town. The traffic exiting the show grounds is bumper to bumper and there are no taxis in sight. I eventually spot one pulling out of a parking space and negotiate a flat rate. As it turns out, our taxi driver was off duty, also watching the fight, so our fare is an unexpected bonus for him. He drops us at the Bo Jangles Saloon, a colorful eating establishment and pub. I treat John to a steak and I order the less expensive vegetarian lasagna; not the best choice in a Town like Alice. John’s steak is excellent the wood burning stove, adjacent to our table, takes the chill off of me.

We have another leisurely day to spend in Alice Springs; more time than we wish for. Our flight to Cairns is not until 5:30 P.M. After checking out of the hotel we walk the 15 minutes into town and enjoy flat white coffees and egg, cheese and bacon sandwiches at the Red Dog Café. It is Sunday and their version of a craft market stretches several blocks along the main promenade. Knitted pot holders, commercial jewelry, soaps, scarves and the scarce, artist made product, are for sale. The day is overcast with a slight drizzle and I am happy that I don’t have a booth here. I believe that if I did, I might blow the shoppers out of the water, but John tells me I would just get robbed. I know that when I travel, I am usually disappointed in the lack of quality souvenirs to purchase. There are virtually no good quality sterling silver or gold, kangaroo, camel, platypus or thorny devil charms for sale in the entire town. One sees a smattering of poorly designed and hollow charms, but nothing that a well heeled traveler would want to take home as a memento. I have no desire to live in Alice Springs, but I believe that I could fill a much needed niche here.

With time to kill, John and I walk into a market in search of lemon myrtle spice. It takes two markets to locate it, but we leave with a small, $9.00 tin in our possession. It’s now time to catch the shuttle to the airport for our 5:30 P.M. flight to Cairns.