We have been meaning to visit the National Trust site at Myilly, where they have a group of houses on display that were specially designed in 1938 by a architect called Burnett to be most suitable for the tropics (what a plan, only been living here for a hundred years or so). The various leads one gets in the tourist world suggest it's only open between 1 an 2 on a day to be advised, but definitely not Sunday. We have driven past a heap of times and always wondered where the car park was, thinking it must be down the other road (its on a corner) and we'll look at it on the way back. Well this morning, we accidentally turned into what looks like a driveway to a block of flats only to find that it also goes around the back of the precinct (they are big on 'precincts' up here) and to the front door of Burnett House. The signs say its closed. Judith swears that the website says its closed on Sundays except for afternoon tea at 3:45 and that you can only come if you book in advance.
Oddly, from the car we can see the arvo tea-tables out (it is about 1pm) and in the street is a sign declaring that it was open. Judy wanted to go, 'No, its closed, look at that sign'. I thought we might take a chance 'yes but look at this sign' so we trooped in through the door and lo and behold it was indeed open. The lovely lady looking after it and the arvo tea, was unrepentant in her attitude, 'No, I'm here so it's jolly well open and the hell with 'them''. Here here we say. Its a lovely little place, built especially to take full advantage of any breeze, provided you build on this very spot which is the only high ground for 10,000 square miles. Mind you, the house is built largely from asbestos products from the time, so I'm surprised that it hasn't been condemned and covered in a huge airtight plastic bag. Oh that's right, this is the NT and they generally know the difference between common sense and nannyish, so it lives, and we all went there and didn't die.
We had a lovely chat and a good old poke about the property. When we came to leaving we asked her about arvo tea and should we book. 'No, we don't take booking, you just turn up but be early because we have to turn heaps away and that causes all kinds of ill feeling.'
It epitomises Darwin and the Territory to some extent, the left hand never seems to even recognise that there is a right hand and things just seem to be a buggers muddle and its sheer luck that anything happens at all. Take the races for instance (thats nags, not cars) theres supposed to be some huge big carnival on, but theres no real advertising as to what and when, except that it seems to be ladies day every day for the last two weeks.
Ahhhh, doesn't matter.
We then went around to one of the best spots in Darwin, the marina at Cullen Bay and had a drink and a feed and a coffee and watched the mega-dollar boats and the millionaire's houses and the ducks and fishes go by.
Then, because it was after 3pm but was too early to go back to the van, we went back up to the Military Museum at East Point, mostly to watch the rather good high-tech show they put on about the bombing of Darwin. What struck me however was that the grounds and outside displays seem to have been improved even more than they were. I would never condone war, nor would i glorify war and its machinery, but i am dead set sucker for history and anything mechanical and technological, so there you go.
some snaps for you lucky ducks:
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