Kununurra, at the top end of Western Australia, is a stark place. Red dust, mangoes, boab nuts, and the sibilance of deafening cicadas. Brilliant sunsets and fearsome lightning storms. Air so thick in the wet season it feels as though you could slice through it with the ragged, broken edge of a turfed XXXX beer can. Baubles hang on boab trees at Christmas. The occasional croc attack might be the nonchalant topic of yarns weaved between yawns of people sitting in the shade, listless in their efforts to escape the unrelenting heat.
I was lucky enough to spend three weeks there at the end of 2014 (my third year) on an elective placement.
