The Arnhem Way, Central Arnhem Road: Part two
Words and pics Robert Crack and John Ford
In the first part our feature exploring The Arnhem Way, Central Arnhem Road, we covered the journey itself — permits, road conditions, fuel stops and key stopping points along the Central Arnhem Road.
If you missed it, check it out here.
In this second and final part, we’re exploring what awaits once you arrive in East Arnhem Land, from Nhulunbuy and Yirrkala to some of the Dhimurru Recreation Areas, including Garanhan (Macassan Beach), Waṉuwuy (Cape Arnhem), Wathawuy (Latram River and Goanna Lagoon) and Bariŋura (Little Bondi Beach).
Garanhan (Macassan Beach) (Credit: Robert Crack)
Nhulunbuy and Yirrkala: Base camp, art and everyday essentials
Base yourself in Nhulunbuy, then explore slowly — beach camps, freshwater creeks, art centres and cultural sites all reward patience. From Baṉambarrŋa (Rainbow Cliff) and Bariŋura (Little Bondi) to Wanuwuy (Cape Arnhem), from Yirrkala to Bremer Island (also known as Dhambaliya), this is not a place to rush.
Nhulunbuy offers fuel, supplies, accommodation and services — from the Walkabout Lodge to the relaxed beachfront Manyimi Campground. From town, short drives lead to scenic lookouts, beaches and Dhimurru-managed recreation areas.
Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka: Art worth the detour
Start early with sunrise at Gayŋaru Wetlands (Town Lagoon), where walking trails, bird hides and viewing platforms trace the edge of a tranquil wetland. Later, head to nearby Yirrkala and the internationally renowned Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Art Centre, one of Australia’s leading Indigenous art institutions. Make sure you allow time to explore, this is not a quick stop.
There was once a time when Ponant’s Le Lapérouse used to cruise from Darwin to Cairns and stop at Elcho Island and Yirrkala, and its L’Austral luxury expedition cruise ship called at Yirrkala on its ‘Australia in Depth’ circumnavigation voyages. Many affluent cruise guests (mainly French) wouldn’t think twice about dropping several thousand dollars on bark paintings, sculptures, Larrakitj memorial poles and yidaki (didgeridoo).
And why wouldn’t they? The artworks and sculptures sold at Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Art Centre are purely sublime.
If I’d had the money when I visited, I’d have done exactly the same.
Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Art Centre (Credit: Robert Crack)
Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Art Centre (Credit: Robert Crack)
Lookouts, beaches and sunset rituals
Be sure not to miss Shady Beach (Ganarrimirri), just a hop, skip and jump away from the Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Art Centre via Bitjpunhami Point Road. Like the vast lion’s share of coastal waters in the NT though, the ostensibly inviting verdigris waters here are crocodile habitats.
Shady Beach (Ganarrimirri) (Credit: Robert Crack)
Round out the day high above town at Roy Marika Lookout. It’s a place of deep cultural importance, and the view does the talking — Nhulunbuy below, wetlands spreading inland and the coastline dissolving into Melville Bay. From here, it’s an easy transition to sunset drinks at the Gove Boat Club, where the light fades across the water and the day finally slows.
View from Roy Marika Lookout (Credit: Robert Crack)
Beyond town: Dhimurru land and stricter access
Southeast of Nhulunbuy, travel shifts into a different register.
This is Dhimurru Aboriginal Corporation country — carefully managed, tightly regulated and absolutely worth the effort. Visitor numbers are capped, permits are mandatory and access can change with conditions. Planning ahead isn’t optional here; it’s part of the journey.
Bariŋura (Little Bondi): Rewarding, remote and risky
One of the most accessible coastal escapes is Bariŋura (Little Bondi), reached via a sandy track roughly 40km from town. Drop tyre pressures early and keep your speed down.
The final reward comes on foot, with a short walk through eucalypt woodland and pandanus opening onto a brilliant sweep of white sand and clear blue water.
Bariŋura (Little Bondi) (Credit: Robert Crack)
Sure, the water looks inviting (especially if you’re looking at it after you’ve popped a tyre on the drive in, in sweltering October heat and humidity, as we did), however make no mistake — saltwater crocodiles and box jellyfish occur in the waters of East Arnhem Land. Despite the water here calling to you to go for a swim, the crocs and stingers may not have received the memo that all you want to do is take a quick dip and not disturb them.
Crocodile and marine stinger warning at Bariŋura (Little Bondi) (Credit: Robert Crack)
That said, during the dry season Gove Peninsula Surf Life Saving Club has a patrol from time to time at Bariŋura (Little Bondi Beach), so that would tend to suggest that having a splash here is possible, albeit not without risk since there is no such a thing as a ‘croc-free guarantee’ when it comes to any coastal waters in the Top End.
The facilities are basic — composting toilets only — and there’s no fresh water, no reception and no safety net. You bring what you need, and you leave nothing behind.
Along the Dhimurru coast: Walking trails, history and camps
Further along the coast, Ŋumuy (Turtle Beach) and Garanhan (Macassan Beach) are connected by the Dhimurru Coastal Walking Trail, a route that threads through monsoon forest, laterite shelves and paperbark lowlands. The camps here are well placed — shaded, breezy and rich with history. Stone arrangements along the way speak quietly of centuries of Macassan contact and trade.
Sunrise from my swag, Garanhan (Macassan Beach) (Credit: Robert Crack)
Room with a view, Garanhan (Macassan Beach) (Credit: Robert Crack)
Wathawuy — home to the Latram River and Goanna Lagoon — offers campsites, fire pits, composting toilet facilities, picnic tables, clear pools, small cascades and straightforward access, all of which make it a favourite with locals, though tracks may close after heavy rain to prevent damage.
Latram River (Credit: John Ford)
Wanuwuy (Cape Arnhem): The hard-earned highlight
For those prepared to go further, Wanuwuy (Cape Arnhem) is the standout.
Vehicle access is strictly limited, permits are highly sought after, and seasonal closures protect nesting turtles. Those who make it through are met with vast dune systems, exposed limestone and beaches that feel completely untouched.
Cape Arnhem (Gay\a[a / Twin Eagles) (Credit: John Ford)
Every Dhimurru-managed site requires a permit, with additional approval needed to camp. Conditions can change quickly, closures are enforced and respect for Country comes first — always.
Why East Arnhem Land still feels untouched
Outback touring is booming.
And with it, so are the numbers of people travelling.
Plenty of Australia’s once-lonely tracks now feel busy in peak season — dust, convoys, campsites filling fast. Tracks such as Cape York’s Peninsula Developmental Road (PDR), the Kimberley’s Gibb River Road or SA’s Oodnadatta Track can, at times, feel as though they are more jam-packed than far-flung.
But if you’re chasing space, silence and something that still feels earned, East Arnhem Land remains a genuine outlier.
Remote. Restricted. Remarkable. Raw.
Around 18,000 people live in Arnhem Land, which is larger in area than Hungary, Portugal or Austria and only a smidgeon smaller than South Korea or Iceland. With a population density of around 0.18 persons per square kilometre, this corner of the Top End feels resolutely remote. And it is controlled access and strong cultural governance, combined with the vast distances, which have kept it this way.
This is country that doesn’t bend to convenience, and that’s exactly the point. Distance still dictates the pace of life here, as well as the way you travel.
Rolling into East Arnhem Land is like stepping back in time, before the post-pandemic outback travel boom — fewer people, wild stretches of untouched coastline and a cultural heartbeat that’s been beating for millennia.
For some perspective, almost 60,000 vehicle permits per year for K’gari (Fraser Island), Qld.
There are around 30,000 vehicles per year on WA’s iconic Gibb River Road, with the vast lion’s share of those between May and October.
For Arnhem Land, around 15,000 permits are issued per year, however around half of these are for mining, work, research, transit or other reasons, with only around 7000 tourist permits issued per year.
So, if you’ve driven the Gibb and it felt as though 4WD tourist traffic was sparse, just wait until you drive across Arnhem Land.
This is country that sets its own terms. Distance dictates pace. Planning matters. Convenience takes a back seat.
East Arnhem Land is spectacular — but it runs on permits, preparation and patience. Get those right, and the rewards are immense.
The wrap
The Central Arnhem Road isn’t just another outback track — it’s a journey through culture, country and character. Patience matters out here. Preparation matters even more. But the payoff? That comes in quiet moments when the land opens up and every horizon reminds you not only how vast this land truly is, but also just how small much of the rest of Australia suddenly feels.
Few drives capture the spirit of the outback like this rugged, red-dirt ribbon leading from the Stuart Highway deep into East Arnhem Land — a 675km stretch of remote country threaded through 60,000 years of culture.
It’s more than a route. It’s a corridor of untouched country, wild rivers and secluded camps. It’s a challenging, remote drive that demands respect both for the land and its people. But for those who take the time to do it right, the rewards are immense — cultural depth, wild landscapes and a connection many travellers spend a lifetime chasing.
Stay longer than planned. Everyone who can, does.
So fuel up (there’s not a lot of fuel out here), sort your permits and take the long way east — because this road doesn’t just lead somewhere special.
It is somewhere special.
Maps so you don’t get lost
- Australia Road & Terrain Map — $15.95
- Top End and Gulf Atlas & Guide — $59.95
Related articles
Pre-trip planning tips for the Top End of Australia
A road trip guide to Nhulunbuy in East Arnhem Land, NT
The Arnhem Way, Central Arnhem Road: Part one
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