Surviving a shark attack, snapping tortoises and Stonehenge
Fifteen years ago, I went head to head with a shark. Sort of. I mean I came close to one. I was diving for abalone in Fortescue Bay in Tasmania's South East. It was a smallish shark, five or six feet perhaps. I don't care. I was shit scared. I floundered back to the boat ramp, threw my gear in the Pajero, and put my diving equipment on eBay. I hadn't been back in the water since. Until Monday. This time, it wasn't sharks I had to keep an eye out for. It was crocodiles - both kinds (saltwater and freshwater). Did I care? No. That's because this was the nicest place to get wet I've ever been lucky enough to stumble across. Litchfield National Park was our first stopover on the Darwin to Brisbane jaunt. It wasn't on the original itinerary, however thanks to input from the local brains trust, we made a detour. Kakadu gets all the kudos (and visitors), leaving Litchfield largely for the locals (nice alliteration -ed.). Florenc...