A couple of my favourites in Darwin, revisited

A Saturday in Darwin is best spent moving slowly, leaning into the local pace while strategically chasing the relief of the air conditioning.

My latest adventure began at the sensory bustle of the Parap Markets—a Darwin institution that feels like the true heart of the city’s multicultural identity.

The significance of Parap goes far beyond just a place to shop; it’s a weekly ritual where the aroma of Mary’s laksa mingles with the scent of tropical flowers and locally roasted coffee.

It’s where the community gathers to catch up, and it serves as a vibrant reminder of Darwin’s close ties to Southeast Asia.

I was pleased to find that getting there was remarkably stress-free; I took my mobility scooter on the number 4 bus, and the accessibility was excellent, allowing me to navigate the crowds and the stalls with ease.

While there was a predictably lengthy queue for coffee, I managed to play it smart. While many people were content to sit outside and brave the tropical heat, I found a comfy chair inside, tucked away in the glorious air conditioning to enjoy my brew in comfort.

From the markets, it was a short trip to the Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territory, a transition that offered a day of profound, reflective contrasts. No matter how many times I visit, the Cyclone Tracy exhibition remains a mandatory stop. Returning now in 2026 feels particularly poignant, as the gallery has been thoughtfully redeveloped to commemorate the 50th anniversary of that devastating 1974 Christmas Eve.

For those with the nerves for it, the remastered sound booth remains the haunting centrepiece. It plays a looped recording of ferocious winds and tearing steel—a “screaming banshee” of a sound that lingers long after you step back into the quiet of the gallery.

The exhibition effectively balances this terror with the city’s resilient spirit. It features artifacts like the original Raggedy Andy doll and the iconic replica of the red Torana scrawled with “Tracey You Bitch”—a gritty testament to the dark Darwin humour that fuelled the rebuild.

I found myself lingering in the Tracy’s Echo section, which prioritises the stories of Aboriginal survivors and honours the enduring cultural strength of the Larrakia and Tiwi people during the disaster.

To lift the spirits, I moved on to the Phoenix exhibition by William Mackinnon. His “psychological landscapes” are inspired by his time living in the Kintore and Kiwirrkurra communities. Mackinnon has a remarkable way of turning everyday Territory motifs—abandoned, rusting cars and heavy, bruised skies—into something deeply emotional and cinematic. It’s art that feels like the land itself.

I finished the day wandering through Exit Art, the annual showcase for the Territory’s Year 12 students. It is always inspiring to see the world through the eyes of the next generation, and this year’s cohort is exceptionally bold.

The works ranged from intricate, large-scale illustrations to an ambitious 70-page graphic novella.

There is something uniquely grounding about being in the cool silence of the gallery, viewing art that interprets the very landscape you are standing on, before stepping back outside to look across the Arafura Sea.