WHEN WE FIRST see Daphne, she is sitting in a pool of sunshine at the edge of her veranda. Bougainvilleas punctuate small patches of open ground between each cluster of rooms, and an unused swimming pool contains slowly disintegrating giant palm fronds, making the place look like an old tropical motel. The sound of a jet taking off from nearby Darwin airport thunders against the tin roof as the plane spirals off over the Arafura Sea.

This may be a plain aged-care facility, but it’s also one of the most homely.