When we reached Adelaide River to see the crocodiles—or the jumping crocodiles—in their habitat, the sun was still hanging low in the sky. Have you heard the saying, “You don’t go to Darwin without seeing jumping crocodiles (or eating crocodiles, for that matter)?” I can’t remember who made that rule when I saw a sign that said, “Beware of Brutus“. Brutus was the, I mean, THE crocodile of Adelaide River.
Dylan, the young tour guide, told us a lot about crocodiles, and I didn’t know they eat chicken. I don’t know what was on my mind, but it’s not a small chicken. On that short and super exciting tour, I learned much more about crocodiles than I ever cared to know. A thought crossed my mind while trying to hide my limbs from being snatched by Dominator (the new boss of the river): what if we hadn’t gone on this tour? I still couldn’t recall what prompted us to choose this over chilling and wine-ing by the pool. What would I have missed out on? I am so glad we did this jumping crocodiles tour.
With that said, so long, Brutus, may we never see each other again.
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