On Thursday evening, fired up after a bit of healthy protesting with the Bagot community, I rode down to the Mindil Beach markets, hoping to run into some friends, regular market go-ers, and give them their copy of Green Left Weekly.
Suggested to Pete he might want drive down later and have dinner there (code for I don't want to ride home up those hills, will you come and get me?). Arrived at the markets, Anja and Michael weren't in their usual spot, realised I'd left my mobile at home - oh no! How would Pete find me! I'd have to ride home afterall....?!
Anyway it all worked out fine, of course. Yummy food was eaten as the sunset over Mindil beach and fire performers did their thing. We ate very early, looking forward to an early, quiet night at home.
Headed back to the car. To find that we were surrounded on all sides by other parked vehicles. None of this two-neat-lines of car parks rubbish for the wild Territory. No, people park on traffic islands, verges, footpath, the beach... wherever they can fit their wheels, pretty much. Which, on Thursday, meant all around our Patrol, thus blocking our escape on all sides.
So much for a quiet evening at home.
Fortunately it is Darwin Festival time, and one of the Festival Parks happens to be in the Botanic Gardens, just opposite the markets. So we went over the road, lolled around on the outdoor furniture, among the palm trees, under the fairy lights, beside the spiegeltent, drinking cider and trying to estimate at what time drivers of a certain (very funky) purple ute might be leaving the markets that evening.
Got back the car park, and yay! Purple ute is gone! Only to be replaced by another car. Sigh.
Some highly skilled and very patient manouevring finally had us squeezing out, much to the disbelief of some passing rather intoxicated lads.
And that was our Thursday evening.
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