I’ve seen the gorge a thousand times in photos, but nothing really prepares you for the actual expanse of it. 

Checking out the gorge was one of my first objectives after arriving here, and after a big first week at the Katherine Times, Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. 

With pre-requisite coffee from the Black Russian sorted and a map in my hand, I headed north. 

Helpful Tourist Information Centre staff pointed me in the right direction and assured me that swimming in the Southern Rockhole was totally fine.

Apparently crocodiles can’t climb over the surrounding rocks. 

So armed with this useful information I set off.

It was mid morning and already the sun was beating down, the temperature set in at a searing 35 degrees. 

The walk starts off from the car park with a steep hill and hills are not really my thing. 

I wouldn’t say I’m an avid hiker, for some unknown reason it makes me a bit nervous, like, what if I don’t make it. What if I fall over, break my ankle and no one finds me for days.

But I’ve hiked the Inca trail to Machu Picchu, so I think 8km should be fine. 

And it was fine. The track is so well marked. 

Although I kept my head down for most of the walk, terrified of stepping on a snake or coming across a basking crocodile, when ever I looked up, a small blue marker was up ahead, assuring me I was on the right path. 

One hour later I was there and honestly, it really is indescribably amazing.

After walking around a bit of a corner with small bushy trees concealing what’s ahead, it’s just there. Bigger and greener than what I expected. 

I was the only one there. And the view was just out of this world, somehow being all alone made the experience even more profound.

I forget about how hot and sweaty it was. I forget I was getting sunburnt and that I’m feeling slightly faint.

It’s invigorating. 

Which was pretty good, because I’ve still got the long walk back.

I made an executive decision to leave the rock hole for next time.

Something to look forward to. Thank you Katherine.