Land cruising through Kakadu National Park
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IT IS SAID that during the Creation Time of Aboriginal Dreamtime storytelling, ancestral beings like the Rainbow Serpent travelled through the Kakadu landscape, establishing its watering holes, billabongs, rock formations and the many intricacies that make it one of the most diverse and unique ecological regions in the world.
One creation ancestor that roamed Kakadu is Namarrkon (pronounced narm-arr-gon). During the Creation Time, Namarrkon journeyed from the Cobourg Peninsula at the Northernmost point of mainland Northern Territory to the Arnhem Plateau, where he remains today. As the story goes, when summer approaches, Namarrkon’s children – the alyurr, or grasshoppers – come to Kakadu in swaths and call to their father, who answers with powerful thunderstorms and lightning strikes, which are said to be his voice.
This explains the perennial storms that hit Kakadu. In fact, the top end receives lightning strikes at a higher frequency than any other place in the world – Namarrkon is quite chatty, it seems. Such is the intensity of Kakadu’s climate that it can be put down to divine intervention, but the severe weather is not limited to lightning.
Kakadu is a land of extremes. The local Bininj/Mungguy people identify six distinct seasons within the region’s climate, but most non-Aboriginal people only refer to two – wet and dry. Humidity, precipitation and temperatures are all low during the dry season – and by low temps, we’re still talking average highs of 32 degrees – whereas monsoonal rains come in the wet season.
The transition period between these two seasons is known as the build-up, or Kunumeleng, and runs from October to December. Even the ever-austere Wikipedia characterises this time of the year as “extremely uncomfortable”, with scorching temperatures, saturating humidity and heavy but brief rainfall. While Kakadu is abundant with wildlife, it is more difficult for humans to survive here. Early British settlements established in the 19th century were quickly abandoned due to a lack of fresh water supply, food and general isolation. Later, pastoralists faced many of the same problems and ultimately sought greener pastures elsewhere. And yet, despite the area being borderline uninhabitable for significant portions of the year, the traditional custodians of the land, the Bininj/Mungguy people, have persisted.
When I visit Kakadu, it’s mid-November, which places us in the thick of Kunumeleng. From the moment I step off the plane, I’m hit by a waft of oppressive humidity, and it becomes immediately clear that making it through the next few days will require some support. Upon arrival in Darwin, I’m told that I’ll need to consume around seven litres of water every day, or risk severe dehydration, crippling headaches, possible hallucinations, and even death. Similarly, I will require a vehicle that can handle the ruggedness of Kakadu, with four-wheel driving capabilities, a long range and perhaps most importantly, good air conditioning.
Looking to the locals for guidance, Toyota LandCruisers appear to be a popular choice. The things are ubiquitous up here, a piece of the fabric of top-end Australian culture. Every second person has one and throughout the trip I’ll regularly pass pubs, petrol stations and rest stops where the entire parking lots consist of LandCruisers. Considering that I’ll be driving the all-new 2024 LandCruiser Prado, I should be in good hands, because if there was ever a car that was made for Kakadu, it’s this one.
I depart for the national park to the South on the Arnhem Highway. Darwin’s sun-bleached suburbia quickly gives way to the open, undulating plains and eucalypt woodlands of the Northern Territory’s Pine Creek bioregion. I’ve managed to very quickly escape signs of human habitation – with only the road beneath me and telegraph poles beside me signifying a man-made presence – and it is here that I’m struck with what makes Kakadu so appealing.
At a time when society is becoming increasingly disconnected from nature, Kakadu presents a welcome – and relatively attainable, at just a three-hour drive from Darwin – escape. At nearly 20,000 square kilometres in total area, Kakadu is the second largest national park in Australia and is roughly the size of the country of Wales. It’s one of only a few dozen places in the world to have received a dual World Heritage listing for both natural and cultural value and is home to breathtaking natural landscapes, cultural artefacts dating back more than 20,000 years and ample wildlife.
The LandCruiser, meanwhile, seems to be simply chewing up the road and handling the task before it with ease. While it’s prized for its prowess off-road, it certainly has no trouble on it. Doing most of the work is the LandCruiser Prado’s 150kW/500Nm 2.8-litre turbodiesel four-cylinder engine, augmented with 48-volt V-Active technology for improvements to driveability and fuel efficiency. The air conditioning pumping through my perforated seat is also greatly appreciated, as the temperature outside soars to around 38 degrees.
The new LandCruiser Prado comes in five grades – GX, GXL, VX, the off-road-focused Altitude and the fittingly named top-of-the-range Kakadu. All feature a V-Active powertrain and eight-speed automatic transmission. On the exterior, the range draws inspiration from other venerated Toyota models, like the 70 Series and FJ40, for a familiar retro aesthetic. This design also allows for considerable functional benefits like a low beltline, flat bonnet and large glass areas, for heightened visibility.
Equally impressive is the LandCruiser Prado’s eco-conscious aspects. LandCruisers have long been synonymous with four-wheel driving culture and the near-unreachable locations the members of this community strive to reach, but they haven’t always treaded lightly on the earth they drive on, due to high emissions and fuel consumptions. When someone on the trip raises this with our Toyota guides, they point out that LandCruisers now use AdBlue, an odourless urea solution for diesel exhaust fluid. AdBlue causes a chemical reaction when it comes into contact with the exhaust stream, turning nitrogen oxide into nitrogen, water and small amounts of CO2. This compromises nothing in the car’s performance and can actually help the engine run more smoothly.
After an easy three-hour drive that’s sped up by the fact that the Northern Territory has a top speed limit of 130km/h, I arrive at my digs, Cooinda Lodge in the heart of Kakadu. The resort is akin to an oasis, with luxury villas and cozy lodges sitting right next to an expansive pool surrounded by foliage. I don’t have much time to settle in, however, as I’m quickly spirited away for a croc tour, which we’re hoping will coincide with the sunset.
The site of this croc tour is the Yellow Water Billabong, or Ngurrungurrudjba, and it doesn’t take long to spot the crocs. The first one emerges from the reeds with a barramundi ensnared within its jaws. This is before our boat, operated by the Indigenous-owned Yellow Water Cruises, has even departed. We’re off to a good start.
Apparently, there had been good rain in the weeks leading into my arrival in the N.T. But the last week or so has been relatively dry, and the result of this is that the vegetation is lush, but the watering holes have started drying up, meaning that the wildlife is more highly concentrated. This much is obvious to me, as the crocs line the shores, with a few coming to inspect the floating bain-marie that is our boat.
These crocs, as our tour guide Dennis informs us, are perhaps the most inclusive species in the animal kingdom. “They don’t care about your skin colour, religion, where you come from or what you believe. They will eat you no matter what,” he says. Progressive mindset aside, the prehistoric beasts don’t look too friendly, so I keep my distance and ensure my hands remain firmly inside the boat.
Native birds are also plentiful, and in the distance we can spot wild horses and buffalo. There was an attempt to cull all of Kakadu’s buffalo in the ‘80s to prevent them from spreading tuberculosis to domestic livestock. As I can plainly see, the program was ineffective, as the animals now roam freely throughout the national park and serve as attractions for tourists such as myself.
The next day I set out to take the LandCruiser Prado where it is most comfortable – off road. Moline (Ikoymarrwa) Falls, a shaded freshwater swimming hole, is the destination. Getting there requires a short drive along a dirt road that had accumulated quite a bit of mud from the previous weeks’ rain.
This is, of course, no challenge for the LandCruiser. The car handles the terrain so easily that you could assume it was getting bored by the lack of hardship. To provide maximum traction and control in off-road environments, the Altitude, VX and Kakadu grades of the LandCruiser Prado are fitted with a multi-terrain system that can adjust vehicle stability and traction control over different terrains, whether it’s dirt, mud, snow or sand.
The adventure-focussed Altitude is the best of the grades for off-roading, with a lockable rear differential and front stabiliser disconnect mechanism that enables the front stabiliser bar to be disconnected to further improve wheel articulation in harsh environments. That wasn’t necessary in my case, but it’s nice to have the option. More bells and whistles like downhill assist control and crawl control increase the car’s off-roading abilities, while the standard trailer sway control and integrated tow bar pre-wiring harness help facilitate an increased 3500kg braked towing capacity.
After a refreshing swim, Ubirr is the next stop on the itinerary. It’s an ancient site of Aboriginal rock art and, simply put, is a must-see for anyone visiting Kakadu. The rock paintings at Ubirr date back more than 40,000 years, making them some of the oldest man-made pieces of art ever discovered. Examples of X-ray painting adorn the walls of the rocks, as do interpretations of Namarrkon.
A sudden downpour and rapidly approaching thunderstorms make the walk difficult, but the view at the area’s rocky pinnacle makes it all worth it, with uninterrupted views of the Nadab floodplain, nearby woodlands and rainforest.
On day three, my final stop before heading back to the airport is the legendary Cahill’s Crossing. Once an Aboriginal meeting place, the tourist attraction now serves as a submerged bridge crossing to the Eastern Arnhem Land, with a paved road resting below the water’s surface behind a series of rocks that slow down the current. Fish have some trouble navigating the rocks of the crossing, meaning they can be easily picked off by crocodiles. As a result, the crocs congregate downstream of the crossing in great numbers.
When I arrive at Cahill’s Crossing, the water level is just about as high as it can be before park rangers declare it unsafe to cross. The crocs are also not bothering to hide their presence, with a number of them lined up directly in front of the crossing, waiting for an easy meal.
Preparing the LandCruiser for what could be its last journey, I take a few deep breaths and one final glance at the awaiting crocodiles before telling myself it’s best to ignore them. Soon after, the LandCruiser is in the water up to its bonnet, with warning signs ringing out. In spite of the complaints on the dashboard, the LandCruiser doesn’t seem too troubled by the situation. It maintains traction and calmy proceeds through the crossing, leaving some disappointed crocs in its wake.
This encounter sums up the LandCruiser Prado pretty well. When you’re out in the elements – and you can’t get much further out than Kakadu – it’s one of the few things you can rely on. Plus, with the five-variant range starting at $72,500 for the GX, $92,700 for the off-road specialist Altitude and topping out at $99,990 for the Kakadu, it’s not all that unaffordable. Compare it to another 4WD SUV like the 2024 Nissan Patrol, which starts at $88,900, and it’s about par for the course. But anyone interested in purchasing the 2024 LandCruiser Prado isn’t after it because it’s cheap, they want it because it’s the best four-wheel drive on the market. I’d have to agree with them.
As for Kakadu, well, the case for taking a trip along roads less frequently travelled has never been stronger. The digital detox was exactly what I needed, and Kakadu is everything you hear it is.
