I'm in a daze as I head through immigration in Darwin. Finally, after all these years of dreaming, I'm in Australia. Right now, I don't think it's quite sunk in, possibly because I haven't slept in 36 hours. After being given the third (and fourth) degree by a rather unpleasant immigration officer determined to find out every last detail of my itinerary (hell, I don't even know what I'm going to be doing tomorrow, so how does she expect me to be able to tell her what I'm doing for the next six weeks?), I make my way through the airport to where I'm told the shuttle bus runs into the centre of the city. As it's 4am (I've finally figured out what timezone I'm in), I have my doubts that I'll be able to find one, but sure enough, there is a bus sitting out the front. And boy, is it warm outside. It may well be the middle of the night, but it's still hotter than a really good summer's day in Scotland. What on earth is it going to be like in the middle of the day??

The bus drops me off at the Transit Centre on Mitchell Street, which I am reliably informed is the centre of the backpacker universe in Darwin. The centre of the universe it may well be, but right now it's a very quiet universe. Despite email promises from the hostel booking office, there is no one there when I arrive, and the doors are very definitely locked. Not a good start. Luckily a small cafe, The Banyan Tree, has just opened its doors, so I can at least get something to drink.

Now this really is a weird experience. I think I've just stepped onto the set of Neighbours - I fully expect to see Harold Bishop behind the counter. Instead, a young girl about my own age sells me my bottle of Coke, and offers me the local paper to read. To be honest, I'm not all that interested in what the local politicians are up to, but one article does catch my eye - local meteorologist Andrew Tupper telling the people of the 'Top End' that this is likely to be the last 'cool' weekend of the year, and temperatures will 'only' reach 30 degrees. I'm going to die!

Finally, at about 6am, I spot someone opening the Nomads hostel two doors along, so I pick up my backpack and struggle the 100 yards down the street, where I am met by the most unhelpful reception staff outside of Fawlty Towers. They charge me the obligatory $15 for a sheet and pillowcase, give me my key and leave me to it. I eventually find my room, but since it is pitch black and full of sleeping people, I just deposit my backpack and head out onto the terrace, where I watch the sunrise in the company of several Brits who have yet to make it to bed. Deciding that my room will now be light enough to find my bed, I say my goodbyes, and think about getting some sleep. My body, however, has other ideas, and I eventually give up at around 9:30.

After a rather unpleasant shower (think what yours would be like if you were sharing it with 50 other people and it hadn't been cleaned since the day before), and another necessary conversation with Miss Helpful at reception (this time to book a day trip to Litchfield National Park the following day) I venture outside into the heat. My first priority is to sort out my coach pass. While I'm doing this, I discover that the first leg of my trip (between Darwin and Alice Springs) involves camping every night, so I am forced to buy some essential supplies. I find a nice general store, which sells everything for the Outback expedition at rock bottom prices, and manage to get all the items I need - sleeping bag, insect repellent (tropical strength, naturally), water bottle, fly net - for under $50. Satisfied that I am prepared for the bush, I dump all this gear in my locker back at the hostel. I am completely terrified about things getting stolen, so while my roommates are happy to leave their backpacks and belongings lying all over the dorm floor, I make good use of the free locker - everything I have with me is safely secured away, with the exception of my valuables, which are hidden from view on my person. If anyone were to mug me, they would come away with $200 in travellers cheques, about $50 in cash, a passport, plane tickets, and my credit card. Paranoid? Moi?

Darwin is actually a very pleasant city - very compact, which is hardly surprising. The Northern Territory may cover an incredibly vast area, but very few people actually choose to live there. When you consider that during the build up to the wet season, humidity levels reach over 90%, you can understand why that is the case. Locals would have you believe that people sometimes go absolutely crazy during this period - and lets face it, who could blame them if they did! I'm having a hard enough time dealing with the heat in the dry season.

Useless fact #2: Australia's Northern Territory covers an area of 519 633 square miles, but is home to only 170 000 Australians - 1% of the population of the country.

It also has a very modern feel to it, having been destroyed and rebuilt three times in its history, most recently by Cyclone Tracy in 1974. As a result, there are very few buildings which predate this disaster. At the same time, though, it doesn't look like a city that's just been built in the last 20 years, although I don't think any of their shops have changed in that time.