THINGS ARE HEATING UP - CHAPTER 06 Bitter Springs Somewhere between Central Australia and Katherine, winter disappeared. The jumpers we'd been reaching for only days earlier were being torn off for swimmers. The landscape changed. The air felt warmer. The vegetation more tropical. We had officially arrived in the Top End. Bitter Springs was our stop for the night and we fell in love with the campground. Our campsite backed onto the river, which meant our youngest immediately decided she was going to catch herself a “BLOODY BIG BARRA”. Her words. I'm not sure the barramundi were ever particularly concerned.At one point she managed to catch the top of a palm tree. Don't ask me how. Bitter Springs itself was gorgeous. Crystal-clear, blue-aqua, bath-like water surrounded by tropical plants and trees growing right into the water. You get in at one end and simply let the gentle current carry you along. Honestly, we could have floated around there all day. But then came our “We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto” moment.At the end of the float, right beside the stairs where you climb out, was a crocodile trap.Complete with pig's head. We learnt our first lesson in NT crocodile safety.Pig's head still there? Excellent.Pig's head gone? Maybe reconsider. Apparently, up here, a pig's head is a perfectly reasonable measure of whether it's safe to go swimming. Later that day we headed down the road to Mataranka Springs. Same idea. Very different experience.Mataranka felt much more like a swimming pool.A very warm pool.A very, very FULL warm pool. We didn't stay long.Let's just say it was feeling a lot like Grey Nomad Soup.Bitter Springs was definitely our pick of the two. The following morning we continued north towards Katherine and spent the afternoonat Katherine Springs. But the springs weren't what we ended up loving most about Katherine.That honour goes to where we stayed. If you're ever in Katherine, Gorge View Bush Retreat is worth putting on the list.In the evening everyone is encouraged to wander up the hill for sunset drinks on the deck. So we did. Drinks in hand, we watched the sun go down while Manuel shared stories and cultural insights with us, followed by a didgeridoo performance. He had the biggest smile and at one point encouraged the single ladies to get up to learn a dance. Our girls were having NONE of that. Before we left Katherine we cruised Nitmiluk Gorge. The region had experienced record flooding, which meant only one gorge was open when we were there. But it certainly didn't disappoint. The scenery was incredible. Towering rock walls, rock art and finally...Our first freshies in the wild. A few days earlier we'd been surrounded by red dirt and reaching for jumpers as soon as the sun disappeared. Now we were floating through tropical springs, watching sunsets from the top of a hill and spotting crocodiles from a boat. It felt like we'd crossed into an entirely different Australia. Same trip. Completely different world. Sarah.

  THE INBETWEENS - CHAPTER 05 Sameness. I wasn't planning on writing a post for this part of the trip. We had two long days of driving before our next key destination. The landscape barely changed. Just kilometre after kilometre of open road. Sameness. Our planned overnight stop to break up the drive was the Daly Waters Pub. If you're anywhere near it, it's hard to drive past. Judging by the caravans pulling up in the hundreds, plenty of people agree. The kids loved the donkeys, horses, cattle and goats wandering through the main street, popping into the pub and campsite like they owned the place. Then there was Tim, a local who gathered everyone for story time before dinner then headed off down the main street on his motor scooter to feed the animals carrots and molasses. The whole place was every bit as quirky as we'd imagined. But the never-never wasn't done with us yet. It's funny how the places you remember most aren't always the ones you plan for. Sometimes it's the random roadside stops, colourful characters and unexpected moments that form the stories we tell over and over again. It had been a long while between petrol stations, so the following day we needed to pull over and top up the tank from our jerry cans. Right on cue, a giant Pink Panther caught our eye and we pulled into the Larrimah Hotel. I thought we'd grab a quick photo, have a coffee and get back on the road. Instead, we stayed far longer than expected. The whole place felt like it had seen better days. It was quirky, a little eerie and completely intriguing. We couldn't help but wander around to see what we'd discover next. Everywhere we looked there was another little treasure. A freshwater crocodile out the front. A huge dancing macaw. Quirky signs. Random collections of... well... stuff. But one thing stood out more than anything else. Paddy. His name was everywhere. There was even a whole section of souvenirs dedicated to him. Who on earth was Paddy? I definitely felt like I was missing something. Like there was one big inside joke that everyone else was in on. A lovely woman must have noticed my puzzled expression. "You've watched the Netflix series, haven't you?" she asked. I told her I hadn't. "Oh, you have to," she said. "It's why I've driven all the way here." Then, as I stepped outside, it clicked... There, right in front of me, was a huge wanted poster for Patrick "Paddy" Moriarty, the local man who mysteriously disappeared in 2017. I vaguely remembered seeing a story about it on the news a few years ago. But just as we thought we'd seen everything... The owner walked outside and called everyone together. "Come on everyone... it's feeding time!" I had assumed she meant the little freshwater croc we'd seen out the front. Nope. She led us around the back to meet Sneaky Sam — the pub's resident 3.8-metre saltwater crocodile. Watching a croc that size being fed wasn't exactly what we'd expected from a fuel stop. The owner, who has only had the pub since last October, was every bit as much a character as the attraction itself. I suspect between her and Sneaky Sam, they've got a few stories to tell. It was one of those moments you could never have planned. We came for a fuel stop. We left with a story. Sometimes it's the in-betweens that leave the lasting impression. Needless to say, for the first time on the trip, we'll be turning on Netflix to start Part One of the series. Sarah.

TAKING THE SHORT CUT - CHAPTER 04 The Mereenie Loop There is a red dirt road that connects Kings Canyon with the West MacDonnell Ranges called the Mereenie Loop. It's nicknamed The Caravan Killer. The road conditions change all the time, so before heading off we started asking other travellers what they thought. The answers were all over the place. Some had avoided it altogether.Some had heard it was badly chewed up after all the recent rain.Others said it was absolutely fine if you took it easy. It wasn't one of those decisions you just make on a whim.We weighed it all up.The road. The weather. The camper. The car. Could we bend a towball? Maybe.Blow a tyre? Quite possibly. But we'd done our homework and decided to take the chance.And I'm so glad we did. Up until now we'd been camping in the red dirt. Now we were driving through it.We'd left the bitumen behind, and for the first time on the trip it felt like we were properly off the beaten track. The road definitely kept us on our toes.But it also kept a smile on our faces. Every now and then a bump would sneak up out of nowhere. Anything sitting on your lap would suddenly lift into the air and, almost without thinking, I'd glance in the rear-view mirror to make sure the camper still looked intact…and attached! It felt wild. In the best possible way. The best part though? Choosing this road meant we arrived at Ormiston Gorge with time to spare.Enough time to explore.Enough time to set up camp without racing the sun.Enough time to simply sit back and enjoy where we'd landed. I always thought shortcuts were about missing out.Turns out this one gave us more. More time.More adventure.And one more story to tell. I'm so glad we took it. Oh... and we only chipped one reflector on the camper.

Today we tackled the Kings Canyon Rim Walk. Before we even set off, everyone warned us about the first part. The climb. The walk starts with a section of steep steps straight up and the hardest part of the whole walk. So naturally, we warned the kids too. We told them to take their time. Just one step at a time. That once we reached the top, it would all get a little easier.

A funny saying, a noisy dinner table, five kids, and a dad who believed that “quality time” was overrated. This Father’s Day, I’m reflecting on the lessons my dad taught us - often without even realising he was teaching us. From “Effort. Performance. Achievement. Results.” to the importance of simply spending ordinary, everyday time together, these are the memories, sayings and moments that have stayed with me.

This is us.Fran and Sarah.The people behind Generation NDY. Long before this little venture was a twinkle in our eyes, the wheels of our Not Done Yet story were already in motion.  This photo was taken almost ten years ago. Our kids were still pretty young back then. Life was busy. So, every weekend we'd take it in turns with our husbands to escape for a couple of hours and go for a ride.