Uhuru

In order not to frighten you, I won’t go into the details of our early morning start.  Suffice it to say that it’s still dark out when we’re stirred from our slumber.  But Mark is not just being cruel; there is a good reason for our lack of sleep.  We’re about to witness the sun rise over one of Australia’s most famous icons – Uluru, or Ayers Rock. (Since ownership of the land was returned to its traditional owners in 1985, the monolith is now referred to mainly by its Aboriginal name, Uluru.)

Wearily, we climb onto the bus and make the short drive to the rock.  I am amazed by the amount of traffic on the roads. Buses, cars, campervans and even motorcycles are making their way to the world’s biggest monolith.  Even though we’re still several kilometers away, I can see the huge rock looming in the distance.  It’s light out now, but the sun has yet to show itself.

Uluru is much closer to the road, already packed with camera laden travellers, than I expected. The huge rock is a dark brown colour in the early morning light.  It looks exactly like it does in every postcard I’ve even seen – a giant rusty rock surrounded by emptiness.  I can see lines running both horizontally and vertically across the giant structure.  Massive holes in its side appear as dark shadows.

To the East, the sun is peeking at the desert. The sky is turning pink and everyone turns their back on the rock to watch the sun’s arrival.  When I turn to take a photo of Uluru, I’m stunned by its transformation; the rising sun is turning the rock a brilliant orange, which slowly deepens into the famous red. Uluru is absolutely gorgeous, and yet it seems mysterious, as if it’s hiding something that we’ll never know.

The huge outcrop is 3.6 kilometers long and 348 meters high. Many people climb to the top, and this is permitted, although it is highly discouraged. Uluru holds great spiritual significance for the Aboriginals and it is their wish that you do not climb the rock. Instead, we walk around the base of it, and Mark tells us fascinating stories about the history of the area.  As we walk, every view of the structure is different, and up close, it’s hard to believe I am looking at the same formation. We see cave paintings decorating one part. To the Aboriginals, some sites have special significance; we walk to a site sacred to women and Mark points out how the rock is shaped similarly to that of a wallaby’s pouch. This is where females come for activities of a feminine nature. Photography of sacred sites is forbidden; men aren’t allowed to see the women’s sites and the women aren’t allowed to see the men’s.  Mark lets us wander around the base at our leisure, and though it’s not yet 8 a.m., the sun’s heat is relentless. Every corner we turn provides yet another view of the mysterious rock, and if I didn’t know what I was looking at sometimes, I’d never recognize it as Uluru. 

After a visit to the cultural center, we head back to camp for a break and some lunch. The campground is equipped with a pool and I forgo a nap in exchange for a refreshing dip in the cool water.  After that, I’m ready for our next adventure.

Kata Tjuta

Before planning this trip, I had no idea that there was so much to see in Australia’s Red Center.  I had barely heard of Kata Tjuta (otherwise known as The Olgas) and my first view of them quite literally leaves me breathless. Though not as formidable as Uluru, this collection of smaller rocks is very similar to the single monolith that draws most tourists to the area.  We embark on a 5.5 kilometer walk to the Valley of The Winds.  Again, I’m surprised by how much greenery survives here.  We clamber up and around the scattering of huge rocks, and after a steep climb we finally arrive at the Valley of the Winds.  I feel as if I’ve suddenly stumbled into another world.  All of the other climbers have the same sort of stunned look on their faces and no one is saying much.  This has to be one of the best views on Earth.

I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into the valley.  On either side, two massive red walls slope down and meet in the middle, forming a sort of picture frame.  In the distance, the green valley spreads out until it meets another scattering of smaller, but equally red, rocks.   Just enough clouds float along to break up the dazzling blue of the afternoon sky.It's almost more beautiful than Uluru, maybe because I haven’t seen a thousand postcards of it before coming here. Discovering something for the first time with your own eyes is magical.  Yes, there’s so much more to the Red Center than Uluru.

Uluru Revisited

There is a reason that Uluru gets so much hype; there truly is no other place like it on Earth.  And that’s why most tours visit the rock at least twice – once at sunrise, and again at sunset.  As the day draws to a close, we take our places for sunset.  We’re much farther away from the rock than we were in the morning. The sun is still quite high in the sky, but the color of the rock changes every time I look at it.  As the perfect end to a remarkable day, Mark serves us chilled champagne as we gawk at one of the most famous locations on the planet.

A short while later, Mark pulls the bus over in excitement. “I found one!” he exclaims and motions for us to follow him to the side of the road. What he has found is the Sturt Desert Pea.The stunning red flower seems out of place on the dusty barren desert.  imilar to an orchid, the long red petals have a splotch of black where they cup the green stem.

I had expected the flies to be at their worst in the outback, but as we approach the mountains, I finally break down and buy a fly net.  The second I step off the bus, the flies are everywhere; in my eyes, nose, mouth and one even made its way into my ear.  They make it hard to breathe and my $8 fly net becomes my new prized possession.

We visit the ruins of Kanyaka Homestead, a sheep station built in the mid 1800’s.  The buildings have stood up surprisingly well, and although the roofs have long since crumbled away, most of the walls still stand.  The shells of the structures, mostly built from rock, almost perfectly match the color of the sand surrounding them.  After another short drive in the bus, we arrive at Yourambulla for another look at some Aboriginal cave paintings. Here, a sign describes what each of the symbols stands for and gives the paintings more meaning.  We see kangaroo and emu tracks depicted on the wall. A storm is brewing in the distance, and as the sun sinks lower and the rock gets redder, the sky behind it darkens. Occasionally, bolts of lightning pierce the sky and draw gasps from the crowd.  The rock changes from bright orange, to burnt orange and finally to a deep red.  As the sun leaves us, its last rays flicker on the rock, as if it’s waving goodbye.  Until I beheld that sight, I never thought it was possible to shiver in the desert.

Coober Pedy

You’ve probably guessed this by now, but we’re up just as early the next morning.  We leave the Red Center and head for Coober Pedy, an opal mining town around 650 kilometers away.  The highlight of today’s drive is stopping at the border between the Northern Territory and South Australia. he scenery along the way is tedious, and we’re all thrilled to arrive in the tiny town in late afternoon.  Our first stop is a tour of an opal mine. The mine, like many homes in the area, is built underground where the temperature remains a bearable 20-26º Celsius year round. 

We watch a video that takes us through the history of the area and the process of how the opals are mined.  During our tour of the mine shaft, we see the explosives used to blast holes and a line of opal that still remains in the rock wall.  Next, we watch as one of the workers shapes an opal into a lovely piece of jewelry.  As she cuts and grinds, a familiar smell brings an uneasy feeling to my stomach.  My uneasiness is explained when she tells us that dentists use the same chemical to polish teeth that she is using to polish the opal.

As exciting and gorgeous as the opals are, it’s the little eccentricities of Coober Pedy that stand out to me.  The heat is unbearable and all I want is a cold glass of water.  But in Coober Pedy, water is almost as precious as opals.  All of the town’s water has to be desalinated, and this is a very expensive process. Locals pay around $5.80 for a kilolitre of water, so you can understand why no one is giving away glasses of the stuff for free. That night, we have a cold drink in the underground bar before heading to bed in our underground accommodation.

Flinders Ranges

Part of the beauty of this particular Adventure Tours trip is that you cover a lot of ground in a short time and experience a diverse range of what Australia has to offer. After leaving the desert, we head south to the Flinders Ranges. Australia’s size and the distance between places of interest here mean that I’ve already readjusted my internal clock.  Most of the driving we do is early in the morning so that the better part of the day can be spent exploring, and I’ve accepted that for the next few days, I’ll be up before the sun.

Luckily, as the sun is rising this morning, I’m sitting up on the bus and my eyes are still open.  The sunrise has turned the vast nothingness into a shimmering veil of pink and red.  Three kangaroos hop across the road in front of the bus, and the scene secures itself in my memory. ’s one of those images that will appear in my mind whenever I think back to my time in Australia.

We spend the night in Rawnsley Bluff Park, at the bottom of a hill. At dusk, we hike to the top and watch the sun set over the Flinders Ranges. That night, the sky is filled with so many stars that I get a kink in my neck trying to get a good look at them. They twinkle as if they’re trying to tell me something. We’re allowed to sleep until 6:15 the next morning before starting off on our final hike. We drive to Wilpena Pound and start the three hour climb to the top of Ohlssen Bagg. As we walk, I’m distracted by the wildlife. What seems like thousands of white cockatoos screech in the trees above me. Ring necked parrots, moving so fast that all I can see is a splash of bright green, flitter about on either side of the path. Euros, a marsupial somewhere in between a kangaroo and a wallaby, but slightly darker, lounge in the shade.

When we get to the top, the views of the mountains are stunning. Sheer cliffs reach for the sky and a flat valley gives way to another uprising of mountains in the distance. But we’re not alone up here. Two dragon lizards are playing the dating game, and we willingly become the audience. The female does what can only be described as push ups, while the male nods his head vigorously. This goes on until we finally have to start our descent. We spend our last night in Parachilna, and simply by driving into the town, we effectively double its population. After a dinner of emu patties, camel sausage and kangaroo steaks (optional) we all gather outside our dorms to witness Parachilna’s main attraction. Soon enough, we see it coming; the longest train in the world. We stand back and watch wistfully as all two kilometers of the train roar by. This signals the end of our trip as tomorrow morning (yes, early) we’ll be getting up to drive to Adelaide, leaving the adventures behind.

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