Ayers Rock (Uluru)

Saturday 26th August

Harriet and I got an early start in the morning as there was still 500km to drive. It’s the weird thing about Oz – everything is usually between half and one days drive from everywhere else and it’s a pain! The Stuart Highway stretches down to the SA border and Adelaide 1500km away but our turn-off was about 150km south of Alice. Finally getting my wish for road-kill, we pass about 4 cows, 2 horses and even a camel. They’d’ve done some damage.

When we were nearly an hour from Ayers, we saw another rock, Mt. Conner, which looks similar to Ayers Rock at first, but while it’s an identical formation, it’s not as famous as its bigger brother! Exciting though this was, we pushed on as we were hoping to capture sunset if possible. There is a specially built village about 30kms from Ayers Rock called Yulara and consists of hotels, campsites, caravan park etc etc. All very organised - The Rock is big business.

In the event we got time to drive around the base of the rock and stop at a couple of points on the way before heading back to the sunset viewing area. The rock is very imposing – it’s everywhere you seem to look when you drive in. It’s in the corner of your eye, it’s ahead of you, it’s creeping out from behind some trees! Even when you look away you see someone’s t-shirt with a picture on it or something! Anyway; it’s there and it’s big. And it’s red. We stopped at the area where you are able to climb up to the summit. I was watching a few people ready themselves for the climb, including a young family. With the sunset now just 30 minutes away, I thought how cool it would be for them to see that from the Rock itself. It was only on reading the sign which warned you to plan for 2.5-3 hours that I realised this lot would be making the descent in darkness. Those of ya that know Oz know that sunset is like God dropping the sun over the horizon, flipping the switch that says ‘cricket and cicada noise’, and then pulls the plug on the lights. These poor guys would be climbing down a steep and sometimes slippery slope in the pitch black. Amateurs! I also went up and touched the Rock, lying on it to see how I felt. It was warm to the touch and rough, gritty. I hadn’t yet decided one way or another about climbing it on touching it I felt nothing at all. This is a very spiritual place for the Aborigines and I had hoped I might feel something here. Mum’s read all the books and while I’m more of an ‘I need to measure it, record it…’ type of person, I suppose I’m not completely dismissive of Mum’s mysticism. However, when it comes to my ‘spidy sense’, there’s zilch. My spiritual eye is as all seeing as a Witchetty Grub and all I was feeling was irritable!

After some shenanigans finding the ideal spot, we parked up. A few people had climbed onto the roofs of their cars and whatnot for a better view and I thought that was a sterling idea. After rocking out the wine, we climbed up onto the roof and got set. The area was perfectly situated – we were between the sun and the rock, so as the sun set, the rock in front of us was offset perfectly. It was about now that I spotted the inevitable person on their mobile phone, talking. I couldn’t believe it! Climbing down and retrieving mine from the van, I couldn’t believe getting a full signal. Well geared for tourism! Anyway, as most of ya know, I succumbed and became a tourist wanker as well; texting those of ya in my phone book before switching off and settling down to the show!

I’ve seen lots of sunsets now here in Oz and they’re often spectacular. It seems that here the sunset seems to work like a capacitor – storing charge for a few seconds then powering down. Gazing around the horizon from behind and around the Rock, I could see the black night sky on one horizon with the hues gradually working their way up through dark blues, violets and into the reds, oranges of the Rock, while directly behind us at the sunset horizon – the day seemed as bright as midday.

The Rock was darkening slightly as the darkness crept over us and across the land between us and the Rock. It was kind of weird watching the night crawl over everything as the sun slipped over the Horizon and as it crawled up and over the Rock, the Rock itself dropped through all manner of red and orange colours before slipping into the purples and blacks of night-time. It’s at times like this that you appreciate the meaning behind phrases describing night being ‘drawn like a veil’, or that the night is a velvet blanket. The colours here seem so clear and defined that it’s quite easy when trying to fix the images in your head. For me, I was very glad to be there with a glass of wine and also someone to share it with. I got slightly melancholic thinking about who I would like to share a first moment like this with. Dad (surprised me as I’ve not thought of the Old Man for a long time), Christina, Mum, Sis and Jayne, Leece, then I thought of how lucky I’ve been to at least have these people in my life and my mood really brightened as my surroundings darkened. Not even the Yank shouting at his mate on the phone ‘It’s a badass sunset man…’ could dampen my mood. It's lovely to think that whenevee I think of Ayer's Rock, I'll think of Wolf Blass and the lovely thoughts of friends and family.

Just as we were leaving, an aeroplane flew over – one of the tours I guess – poor things; they’d missed it by just 10 minutes. Quick things these sunsets!

It’s actually only now as I write this, recalling my feelings that I wonder if maybe that was the magic of the place I was looking for when I came here – in thinking of Dad and friends and feeling happy afterwards. Whatever, it was just nice to sit back and reflect and I was glad I’d made it there had a glass of wine.