Uluru
On our way out of Kings Canyon we did the short walk out to Kathleen Springs and learned some of the grazing history of the area. We overnighted at Petermann Rest Stop (Curtin Springs East). It was blowing a sandy gale as we set up camp, perfect kite flying conditions. Not unlike Mary Poppins' carpet bag, Oma's suitcase was full of surprises and out came a small plastic kite for its maiden voyage. It was a first for Hugh and Claire and a great distraction from otherwise pretty awful weather. We retreated inside the trailer for dinner and invented new games to escape the swirling sand.
I still remember, as a kid, first sighting Mount Connor on the horizon as we so hotly anticipated Uluru. [Strangely I have no childhood memory of Kings Canyon, even though we visited it on the same trip]. Mt Connor itself is a mighty big mesa, deserving of recognition in its own right. Unfairly however, it most likely elicits more disappointment than awe from visitors hoping for their first glimpse of its more famous neighbour.
Our first sighting of Uluru was very exciting. It is a surreal monument whose majesty grows the closer you are to it. It has a magmatism and a presence, not unlike a living being, to the point that I felt slightly uncomfortable turning my back to it.
We had four nights parked out the back of the Ayers Rock Campground overflow. It wasn't a bad spot, except for the gargantuan Yulara town generator that sits directly opposite and roars like a jumbo jet all night.
As soon as we'd set up camp we drove the 20km out to the rock and did the short Liru walk to the Cultural Centre. I was surprised to see the scar of the old walking path up the side of the rock, where almost 30 years ago I'd been too afraid to climb (sadly not out of cultural respect but for the pure fear of falling). Seeing it again, I felt my fears were justified; it's a mighty steep track, but I was also moved by what the "scar" represents in terms of Australia's journey in understanding, recognition and respect for Aboriginal culture.
We ended our first day at the sunset viewing area oggling the desert beauty. Little native hopping mice appeared as the darkness set, prompting squeals and giggles from the kids.
Waking to a 5am alarm, we set out the next morning for the sunrise viewing platform, the almost full moon still bright in the otherwise dark sky. It was still a good hour before the sun made her appearance and longer still before she shared her warmth. It was a wonderful experience watching the colour appear and change over Uluru and Kata Tjuta on the horizon. But it was hearing news of Queen Elizabeth II's death that morning that has left the most indelible mark on that day.
With the Queen on our minds, we tackled the 10km Base Walk. It was a mammoth effort for the kids but unreal to be right up next to the rock and great to see it from every angle. We enjoyed reading the creation stories that were shared at intervals. At the Mutitjulu Waterhole, our final stop, signage asked us to respect the sacred resting place of Kuniya, the woma python woman, by sitting quietly and not disturbing the water. We had to laugh when our sombre reverie was interrupted by a troupe of about 15 aboriginal kids and two adults who ducked straight under the barrier and plunged raucously into the shallow pool.
That afternoon we returned to find evidence of mice in our camper trailer, prompting a reorganisation of our food storage and a setting of the traps. After being mouse-free for about five months, since the onslaught we had on the Ningaloo coast, we snapped two of the blighters at Yulara, bringing our tally to 16.
In light rain and blustery winds we joined the free ranger guided Mala Walk. Our guide Leroy was brilliant. With humour and feeling he shared insights into the lives of the people who have lived for thousands of years around Uluru.
The weather deteriorated in the afternoon so we retreated to the Yulara village where we watched a Yadaki (Didgeridoo) workshop and stopped in at the Gallery of Central Australia. I loved everything hanging on the walls and perhaps, if I wasn't living in a camper trailer, I'd have taken one or two of the beautiful artworks home.
Although we had the next day planned for Kata Tjuta, after the night's heavy rain we had to stop by the rock to see if water was flowing. Water wasn't cascading but it was running in wet sheets that shone like reefs of silver in the sunlight. It was an exciting state to witness.
Our late start out at Kata Tjuta meant we took it in turns to eat lunch and do the Walpa Gorge walk. We also split up for the longer Valley of the Winds walk, me walking anticlockwise at a slower pace with the kids while Brigitte and Matthias headed out clockwise. Timed to perfection, we swapped shifts at the spectacular Karingana lookout and I carried on alone while the kids returned with Matthias. It was a great tactical move to get some good walks in without pushing anyone to their breaking (grumpy) point. Our final sunset in the park was enjoyed looking north to Kata Tjuta and east to Uluru.
