Twin Falls Gorge

After a spot of food and a trip to the highest toilet ever - both in terms of altitude (it was on stilts) and odour (somebody had left the toilet seat up on the composting toilet) we set off for the falls.

A short walk took us to a little marquee next to a boat on the river. The crocodile signs loomed large.

Not having the right change to pay the ferryman, we negotiated then boarded the ferry. Just before we left the previously stranded rescue-ees of inappropriate 4x4 fame turned up, having managed to cadge a lift.

The boat headed upriver into a spectacular gorge: the cliff faces towered high above and the water looked very inviting until you saw the croc traps which lined the shore. Under the surface were huge boulders, clearly visible in the clear water. Our pilot managed to steer a sinuous course between them, finally reaching a far shore as Eloise handed around snacks to all aboard.

We disembarked then continued up the gorge on what could be described less as a walk than as a scramble, sometimes along sandstone ledges that were only centimetres wide. Over crocodile-infested rock pools. Really. No, not really.

At the top of the gorge was a little beach surrounded by humungous cliffs over which trickled the last gasps of the waterfalls.

A jetty reached out into the water to give us the perfect view. Oh, hang on, actually it was a crocodile trap.