We were supposed to be in the middle of the dry season (northern parts of Australia have only two seasons: wet&hot and dry&hot) but apparently the nature didn't agree to this, as it had been raining for a week when I arrived. I found the rain refreshing. It was nice and cosy to sit on a verandah reading a book in the comfortably warm, moist air. But then it started pouring with rain, and all the streets turned into rivers and roadsides to red mud. I managed to lose my flipflop twice while running around the block to the cinema (to watch Eclipse, of course) and had to charge back to retrieve it when the current in the ankle-deep water carried it away. Or make that neck-deep water, when a less-than-considerate driver passed me with his car in full speed, causing a massive splash of water to hit me. Thanks a lot, mate!
The locals altogether were not very friendly. One morning I was walking on the street, vaguely registering three about 10-year-old Aboriginal kids passing to another direction. "Have you ever seen a blonde snap?" I heard one of them ask, and then a WHOOSH and a CRASH when a glass bottle hit a pole right next to me, the splinters scattering everywhere. Luckily they showed no talent for baseball (nor any other sport that includes throwing things) so I could leave the scene with a murderous look but unscathed. They didn't follow me or say anything more. I felt slightly shaken, as the bottle could have hurt me really badly had it hit me. However, I felt more sad than angry - these kids must be feeling very low if this is what they do to innocent passers-by. I could understand their hatred: their land had been stolen by white people, leaving them with nothing but diseases, alcoholism and unemployment - all in all not a bright future. (For example, the life expectancy of Aborigines is over 20 years less than that of white Australians.) Their hostility made a dent on the atmosphere of the town. I felt uncomfortable walking around on my own even during the day, and unsafe come nightfall.
Broome was a lot like Exmouth but bigger, with 16 000 residents as opposed to Exmouth's mere 2500. There were some signs of "civilization" that I had been missing: a movie theatre, McDonalds (=cheap ice cream), and a well-stocked supermarket (I was sick of expensive IGAs with only white bread and half-rotten vegetables). However, I had lost interest in small town sightseeing, and the sweet heat had the side effect of just chilling out instead of getting to know the town. Every day I was planning to go to the famous Cable Beach to watch the sunset, but didn't manage to make enough effort to catch the free bus, with excuses like "I'm hungry", "it's too hot" or "there aren't enough clouds on the sky for the dramatic effect". On Tuesday, the fifth day in town, I finally felt up to going. The beach and the sunset were nice, but still forgettable if it weren't for the camel riders. I don't know what the fuss is about. (I guess my total lack of interest in beaches doesn't exactly make me a good judge of them, though.)
I would say that the expectations built on Broome by advertizing were not met. The only things I found remotely interesting were the Cable Beach (which is an hour's walk from the town anyway), and the pearling history (that I didn't learn anything about during my stay). Apparently the nature around Broome is supposed to be beautiful, but there was no way of seeing any of it without a car. I must say I'm not surprised that the locals have made a reputation of being very lazy employees - it's so hot all the time that you have little interest for much else than sitting in the shade or cooling off in the water.
On my way to the beach I heard a crazy story. The night before, some drunk French backpacker had decided to climb over the fence of a crocodile park. To attempt to ride a five-meter saltwater crocodile. (Wanna straddle one of these? http://images.mirror.co.uk/upl/m3/mar2008/4/1/7F1108CA-9860-8C2C-CE20EF257ACBFAA9.jpg) That's one of the most stupid things I've ever heard if you're not Crocodile Dundee! Result: the guy is now in a hospital, fighting for his life. The hostel manager has been bombarded by phone calls from news channels asking more about it, that's how he knew and could tell us all about it.
Anyone up for some plumbing in the sun? According to a diagnose by me, Australia desperately needs plumbers who actually know what they are doing. I would say that about half of taps in Australia leak, seriously. Also the sewers in the sinks just don't work - it can't be only the result of careless use that any given day two thirds of the sinks in any given hostel are clogged. And qho was the idiot who decided that hot and cold water should be controlled by different handles? Usually the result is that you either get burning hot or icy water - nothing in between is available. I think the plumber who installed the taps in my Broome hostel either doesn't speak any English, is blind, or just retarded: in the shower you get hot water from the tap that's labelled 'cold', and lukewarm from the tap with no label. In the kitchen, both taps are labelled 'hot', but usually you get only cold water from both - until they run out of it, and there's only hot left. Please, someone come and save the poor Australians!
My hostel is cheap, and that's about the only praise I have for it. The owner doesn't five a shit about their guests. The kitchen is a nightmare: it's filthy, every single appliance or piece of cutlery is broken, and mice eat your food at night. Neither toilets nor rooms are cleaned often enough. The quiet time is not enforced: no-one does anything to stop it when people shout and sing at 5am. In other words, Broome's Last Resort is a shithole.
Oops, looks like my entry so far has been pretty negative. Must be because I'm homesick again (or at least looking forward to going back to a comfortable life). Even if I'm not too impressed by Broome, there are some things I appreciate about it: having the basic services again, library with free internet, the gorgeous weather... After a three-week winter I'm happy about the heat again.
I also enjoyed a visit to the local weekend markets. There was a lot of nice stuff to explore. I bought a cute pair of freshwater pearl earrings, and almost bought a framed photo (but decided against it in the end, because it wasn't perfect enough that I would want to carry it around).
At any case, I was very ready to leave come Thursday morning, when it was time to depart for another tour, this time of The Kimberleys.
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