It's a big big rock

Uluru:
Ancient
Monolithic
Sacred

A sandstone remnant of a mountain range long since eroded away.

Red at sunrise and sunset, brown in the afternoon, silvery-grey when it rains.

Standing 348 metres high and measuring 9.4 km in circumference.

9.4 kilometres exactly, actually, and I should know because I walked it.

So, LRD seems to have forgiven me slightly. He's finally climbed out from behind my mountain of Terry Pratchett novels and has slowly inched his way across the living-room floor to my desk. Either all is now well or he's just curious to see the photos.

Sunday morning, after only 3 hours sleep, we rose and drove from Yulara into the Uluru - Kata Tjuta National Park to the sunrise viewing area for Uluru. Just us and a couple of hundred of other people watched the first strikes of sun turn the rock red. Uluru is sacred to the Pitjantjatjara people of the area, who gained land rights over the area in 1985. The land was then leased back to the Government for 99 years and is jointly-managed.





Photo: south-west side of Uluru

After sunrise, we trekked round the base of the monolith (takes about 2 and a half hours) before heading off to Kata Tjuta, otherwise known as the Olgas. Kata Tjuta is Pitjantjajara for "many heads" and its series of large domed rocks do look like many heads. The Olgas are also sacred to the Pitjantjajara people but while Uluru is primarily a tourist attraction, ceremony is still undertaken at Kata Tjuta.

Photo: Inadequate shot of Kata Tjuta.

After finishing our walk into the heart of Kata Tjuta (we were far too tired by now to do the Valley of the Winds walk) we barbecued some lunch and drove back to Alice Springs.

And drove...
and drove...
and stopped for icecream...
and drove...

And when I finally got back to Alice Springs I curled up in my lovely king-sized bed with five pillows and a view of the McDonnell Ranges and I slept.

Great weekend.

PS: Oh, and on Monday I saw the sights of Alice Springs: climbed Anzac Hill and went to some art galleries.

The Lonely Road

So, Little Red Dave refuses to come out from the bookshelf: he’s currently sulking between a copy of My Name is Red and my as-yet-unread copy of War and Peace. (Hey, have you seen the size of that thing? It’s on my to-do list...for the last 10 years). Apparently LRD’s still despondent over the whole Uluru thing and, coming on top of me going to Kakadu without him earlier this year, I think he’s waiting for some sort of grand apologetic gesture. I’ll try to write up my trip without rubbing salt in the wound too much.

I flew down to Alice Springs on Friday and checked into the Comfort Inn Outback, nestled in the McDonnell Ranges. 5am I was up and 6am I was on the road as the sun rose over the surprisingly-green landscape. I had booked a tour with an Adventure Tour company so it was just me, about 10 European tourists, who were all about 12, and two older English women so at least I had someone to talk to. [Yes, Dave, it would have been better if you had been there. I called this post 'The Lonely Road', didn't I? No, don't hide behind the Terry Pratchett novels. I'll never find you again.]

Photo of Alice Springs from Anzac Hill

And we drove....
and drove....
and stopped for a coffee...
and drove...

Kings Canyon is about four hours from Alice Springs but of course, by the time we got ourselves together and stopped for breaks, it took us 6. We grabbed a barbecue lunch and then drove to the canyon itself. The walls of Kings Canyon are over 300 metres high, with Kings Creek at the bottom.

Against my better judgement and possibly against sanity, I decided to do the 3-4 hour Rim walk with the rest of the group...at 1:30 in the afternoon in 37 degree heat. The walk itself is fantastic, if far too hot to be doing in the heat of the day, but the first part of the climb, Heart Attack Hill, is the most challenging. Once the steep ascent was under my belt, the rest was comparatively easy. Afterwards, we stumbled down the mountainside, piled back into the car and drove...and drove...and drove...arriving in Yulara about 9pm. We set up camp, we ate barbecued roadkill and then hit the sack. Literally: I have never been so tired in my life.

Photo: Heart Attack Hill. It's much higher than it looks.

Photo: Lilliput, so named because it looks likes a miniaturised version of the Gorge itself. One can imagine tiny people, just like ourselves, walking through it and looking up at the sheer walls.

Photo: Garden of Eden

Photo: Walls of Kings Canyon

Mea culpa

Dear Little Red Dave

You know I love you, right? I mean, I did dedicate this entire somewhat thematically-confused blog to you, because of my love (and not at all because it gives me an excuse not to publish photos of myself). So I know you won't take it personally that I went to Uluru, the iconic world heritage-listed image that defines Australia for so many, and left you on my bookcase in Darwin.

I know, you'll say there are photos of you at the Great Pyramids of Giza, the leaning tower of Pisa and the Taj Mahal. I can lug you across Europe and Asia but when it comes to my own country, I consistently forget.

I can only hope you accept this apology and stop sulking behind my copy of The Hogfather.

Mea culpa
genfie



PS Here's a photo so you know just what you missed