A Review: Darwin Buildup

When my girlfriend and I fight, I’ll ask myself, “Are we fighting, or are we just hot?” In the buildup, it’s usually the latter. I’m not trying to shift blame from my shortcomings as a partner, and there are many, but capture this period of shit awful weather in Darwin, Australia.

People only remember the worst of the buildup and never the best. At the time of writing, I’m entering my second buildup, which, according to locals, has come early. Many people approach it with dread, and for good reason. Growing up in Queensland and South East Asia, I don’t mind the humidity, but ask me again in three months, and you’ll probably get a different response.

The buildup is the transition between the dry season and the monsoonal rains. The Larrakia call this the ‘Darlirrgang’, a period of reflection before the summer rains. A Larrakia friend also told me it’s the best time for Tinder dates, as women are “pissed off, but always up for a root”.

Humans are not the only ones getting some. The buildup brings a spike in avian sex tourism. The lure of a tropical tomfoolery brings migratory birds from as far as Asia, Siberia, Russia, and Alaska. My personal favourite is the Oriental Dollarbird, due to its regal appearance and a mating call that sounds like laser cannons from the Millennium Falcon.

As the humidity increases, (human) tourism decreases. An accurate measure of tourist numbers is the length of the line for Mary’s Laksa, which has shortened in recent weeks. At the boat clubs, you’ll no longer need to book a table or endure dickheads clapping at the sunset. Most importantly, the wait for beer is shorter, allowing you to put away beers with dangerous efficiency.

Like many regional areas, Darwin locals are always down for a chat, and complaining about the buildup is the go-to conversation starter. Although I’ve only been here a year, I'll shamelessly use phrases like “here we go again” and “I think the buildup has come early” to evoke a sense of connection through collective hardship.

At work, complaining about the buildup is the perfect small talk for awkward elevator trips and pre-meeting ice breakers. But keep your complaints to those who work in air conditioning. Complaining to construction workers, especially roofers, is to be avoided at all costs, or else suffer eternal emasculation.

In the buildup, you’re always sweaty, and you’ll need to dress accordingly. Thankfully, standards for corporate attire are much lower than in other capital cities. I stick to linen black shirts, which breathe well and hide sweat patches. Turning up to a meeting in shorts and a fishing shirt is also very acceptable. If HR were to raise objections, they would probably be fed to the crocs.

When I first moved to Darwin, I was at the pub and asked what underpants I wear and if I wanted to be part of a group order. Sitting in a group of burly military contractors, rugby players, and boaties, I thought they were taking the piss. It turns out they were dead serious and willing to pay top dollar for premium bamboo-fibre underwear. Sensing my bewilderment, one of them turned to me and said, “Up here, chafe is the devil”. A year later, I realise this advice was spot on. Now I pay top dollar to live a life in premium underwear, free from the hellhole that is chafe.

The only thing worse than pain between the thighs is fatigue of the mind. Some popular ways to describe this condition are ‘going troppo’ or ‘mango madness’. For me, it’s a meteorological prick tease that goes on for months. It feels like it’s about to rain, but then it doesn’t, causing an acute onset of brain fog and irritability. Treatment options vary between a cold beer and ten cold beers.

One of my best mates says the Darwin dry season is the best weather on Earth. Having just come out of the dry, I agree. By applying the Law of Cause and Effect, it's plausible to suggest Darwin needs this period of shit awful weather to keep the universe in balance. Who fucking knows, it’s too hot to think. So in the meantime, crack a beer (or ten), watch the sunset into water you can’t swim in, and wait for the wet.

The buildup – 2 stars