I'm sure there is a Territory walk. Everybody does it, and it's a noticeable thing that may also be found in Far North Queensland and Western Australia - but it is a thing, and after a while, you can't help but take it on yourself.
It's all in your gait. And your footwear. And what you do with your arms.
First of all, the NT walk is slow. Nobody walks fast up here. One foot in front of the other, back slightly hunched, as if you're trying to protect your head from the sun. If you're not wearing sunglasses, one forearm will be held over your forehead to keep the sun out of your eyes.
Your arms are going to hang down, the motion of your steps letting them sway by themselves. As you're going to be wearing either flat shoes, tradie boots or thongs, there's no tippy-toeing around the place. There's no mincing or preening. There's no power walking, unless it's around the bay at dawn or dusk for exercise. (Two of my colleagues left early today to go for a run. I had to do a sneezer and call them weirdoes from behind my hand - it's too hot to run out there)
There's a bit of a scuff to your step too. I remember as a child being told not to drag my feet. It seems people are happy to do this on occasions too.
What's most concerning, as a Southerner, how quickly you adopt this way of walking.
I found myself walking between office buildings this afternoon, my backpack on my back, arms swinging on their own, moving slowing as the humidity built around me. I also stopped in at a shop to look at bathers, seeing I left mine in Melbourne. Lovely selection of bathers, but I'm not paying $150 for a pair.
"You look a bit hot," the proprietor told me.
"I am." Minister for the Bleeding Obvious, that one.
"But you walk like a local."
"I'm learning. It's not Melbourne. Nothing's in a rush here."
"You got it."
I must be looking like a local. I keep getting asked for directions. Even worse, I know where most things in the city can be found now.
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