Wanderings: Down Under
Here is the photo version of Wanderings: Down Under. A photo book with stories and narration of my travels in Australia and New Zealand is in the works. To read the text from the upcoming book, visit SaintProse.com.
View and purchase Wanderings: Down Under below.
The Red Center-Uluṟu and Kata Tjuta
No morning beginning at 5am can be a good morning, but the day’s prospects made it bareable. The itinerary for today was to watch sunset at Kings Canyon, walk up and down and through the canyon, then off to Uluṟu for sunset.
I awoke to the rustling of sleeping bags and swags and immediately the light ribbing began. Apparently I had snored with immense volume and kept Conny up for a portion of the night. Kate and Roelof (who was in his shelter on the other side of the campsite) heard me snoring as well. I usually feel terrible for snoring and keeping people up, but this time I just decided to apologize, tell them to wake me up next time and move on.
I stumbled into the shelter for a quick breakfast: cereal, a few peices of toast and fruit. Apparently I was quite the sight at 5 in the morning, I kept getting laughs at my appearance and drunken-like behavior.
We wouldn’t be returning to the camp, so I gathered my things and got to the van as quickly as I could-which wasn’t quick enough. I was the last person again and felt like such an idiot rushing around with my bags and all; I hate holding people up.
We headed off back along the bumpy and rough road, serenaded by the Beatles singing “good day sunshine”. Before long we were at the base of Kings Canyon, though as it was still dark only a faint siloutte of the canyon walls could be made out.
The first part of the King’s Canyon walk was the most strenuous, a somewhat precarious and steep set of rock stairs that is commonly known as ‘Heart Attack Hill’. We rose probably 100 metres in two minutes. Conny, Jeanette and myself stayed with the group for the first bit, then broke away and took the climb at our own pace.
Brett and I on our way up Heart Attack Hill
We reached the top out of breath (I guess I should speak for myself) but were rewarded with a slight but vivid tinge of purplish-pink coloring the clouds.
As we lounged on the rim of King’s Canyon the purple clouds soon intensified as our surroundings became illuminated. The rest of the group caught up and we pushed on, hiking over the sandstone. At certain points Kate would stop to point out certain things of interest: geology, Aboriginal practices, animal behaviors and interesting plants.
It was absolutely amazing up there. After climbing a bit we came to ‘the flats’, a place where one could see the stone all laid out in front of oneself. It truly felt as though we were on Mars. Orangey-red rocks and sand surrounded us, it was all we could see. That and blue skies above.
We came to the edge of the canyon a few times, which gave us views for what felt like hundreds of miles. The walls of the canyon were sheer, dropping nearly 300 metres straight down. It reminded me of Angel’s Landing, a rock formation in Zion National Park in Utah, except much less intense.
Conny, Jeanette and I
There was one instance that I’ll never forget, and now looking back on it it seems as though it brought Conny, Jeanette, Brett, Roelof and myself together, gelled us, through somewhat crude humor. We were all standing together, taking in the beautiful sights before us. I had my hand on my camera, which was around my neck and resting low on my midriff. As I turned I accidentally hit the shutter button, taking a quick shot. “Oh!” I exclaimed, surprising myself. Conny looked at me and quipped, “That happens sometimes.” I looked at the two guys, then back at Conny and Jeanette with a slight smile on my face, and we all cracked up with howling laughter. Sustained laughter continued for nearly a minute, and when we tried to explain why we were in such a state it just rendered blank looks. It was a ‘you had to be there’ moment.
We continued on, only stopping to gaze at a pygmy koala in a tree overhead. Our path led us down a cascade of steps into the canyon, a place called the ‘Garden of Eden,’ a lush and green oasis where a permanent water hole resided, something quite special for a place as dry as outback Australia. It was a transition from desolate rock with a few scraggly ghost gums to a cool and shady sanctuary of thick trees and bushes, a few ducks, and the twittering of birds.
Following the path down through the canyon we came to the water hole, a large pool skirted on one side by rock, where thirty or so fellow tourists were lounging. Beyond the pool of water rose a sheer rock wall, the canyon’s edge, dark red rock with streaks of black. We found a place in the corner and rested for a few minutes, munching on biscuits that Kate had packed. It was incredibly peaceful even though we were anything but alone. Just the knowledge that we were in the middle of a desert, an arid desert, yet next to a lush natural garden and pond was profound; it was truly spectacular.
Retracing our footsteps out of the canyon, then up another cascade of stairs, we found ourselves on the othe side of the canyon. A few of us relieved ourselves, then we continued on our way. (Normally I wouldn’t bring up such crude details, but there’s something somewhat noteworthy about leaving ones mark on such a wonderful and spectacular land. It’s right up there with urinating in the Steens Mountains in Oregon!)
We continued on along the canyon, admiring the incredible day we had been blessed with. About 65º with overcast skies: incredibly comfortable for hiking, and superb photographic conditions. Along the way Kate pointed out ripples in the rock, which she explained were actually from the ocean 300 million years ago. Apparently this was all at one time the ocean floor. That put things into perspective! She also showed us a shell fossil in the the rock-pretty incredible.
The shell fossil
The rock formations were extraordinary. Smooth and rolling rock, humps of rock, jagged edges-the only unifying characteristic was the deep, Martian red. Contrasted against the blue skies with swirling clouds: breathless.
On this Kings Canyon sightseeing tour I began to hang out and speak more with Jeanette. I had spoken pretty much exclusively with Conny before this, but for some reason felt attracted to Jeanette and began to initiate more conversations with her. I had developed a pretty strong, obvious, yet unfortunate crush. I say unfortunate because I would have a little over 24 hours remaining with her. I say obvious because after dropping me off at the airport in Ayers Rock, the remaining crew headed back to Alice Springs where they went out drinking. Apparently they spoke of how obvious and cute my crush on Jeanette was. Guess I don’t do anything quietly…
We arrived back at the van at a little after ten and decided to postpone lunch, instead pushing on to Yulara, the tourist/resort town on the outskirts of Uluṟu – Kata Tjuṯa National Park. It was a drive of a little over two hours, with most of us electing to sleep. I actually missed a dingo sighting because I was asleep, then failed to see the wild kangaroo Brett had spotted. I still think he was making things up…
As a surprise to us all, it began to rain. It was quite comforting to me, actually, and wasn’t that surprising. But with the knowledge of where we were, it was pretty crazy. Through the mist and fog we made out a faint landmark in the distance, a body of land we mistook as Uluṟu-turns out it was Mt. Connor. It looked like a mountain with the head chopped off, quite an interesting sight.
We finally arrived in the town of Yulara with Kate remarking how ‘funny’ it was that we couldn’t see Uluṟu due to the rain and clouds. The rest of us didn’t really find it funny. After check-in we made it to our temporary residence, another permanent campsite, much in the same fashion as the previous night’s. I had been incredibly angsty ever since I had seen the rain, fearing that we would miss Uluṟu. Kate assured me that we would see it as paths go right up to the rock. Blue sky also began to melt away the clouds, and my excitement began to skyrocket.
After lunch we settled in to the campsite a bit. Kate was alerted by a fellow ranger that there was possibly a waterfall at the Mutitjula Water Hole, so we all piled in the van and set off. She was very eager and excited, remarking to us that she had only seen waterfalls on Uluṟu once before. This was significant, as Kate had been giving tours for about eight months.
We zoomed along the road towards the great rock, and gradually it began to appear. It was quite the ominous sight. It’s girth was incredibly massive, three and a half football fields across. Clouds leeched onto the top of Uluṟu, creating the illusion that it rose forever. We kept on driving closer and closer, getting to the point where it took up the entire view of the window.
First sight of Uluru
Hopping out of the van, we were greeted with a damp, fresh air. The sky was still gray, and Uluṟu stood in front of us like an ancient monolith. The spirituality of the rock was palpable; it gave one a hushed and reflective feeling, an air of seriousness and profundity. And, as I remarked before, the veiling of the clouds made it all the more mysterious, even daunting to explore. These feelings cannot be reproduced, it’s like nothing I have ever felt before. I only feel slight whisps of it looking at certain photographs and video. It was truly stunning.
Giddiness enveloped me as we began to saunter down the path towards the sight of the prospective waterfall. Since my first year of high school I had learned of the majesty of this place, and I was finally here! It was difficult to comprehend, and still is.
We made our way along the path, then onto a boardwalk and to the final viewing area at the Mutitjula Water Hole at the end of the Kuniya walk. There was an immense amount of people in a small area, and it was quite obvious that water was flowing down Uluṟu. In front of us was a large pool of fresh, newly-stirred water contained in part by a backdrop of Uluṟu. From the top a good amount of water was flowing down, collecting in one area, then bubbling over and continuing on to the pool below. It was a profound sight, such beauty due to water in a usually bone-dry climate. We were told that it only rains a few times a year at Uluṟu, and we were lucky enough to be there for one of them.
The spiritual, sacred feeling was very strong at this place, the Mutitjula Water Hole. Recollections of the feeling bring a warm and contented feeling to my soul. (It’s hard not to sound melodramatic explaining the spirituality of a place…these are my true feelings.) This was another permanent water pool, yet at this time full to the brim. We snapped a few pictures, (well, I snapped like 200 or so…) then returned for the bus.
Before reaching the bus we made a detour at an area along the walk. Kate led us into a cave, and when our eyes adjusted we were met with what first seemed like elementary scribbles on the rock, but which turned out to be symbolic Aboriginal rock art. How astounding! She explained the different symbols, how they made their ‘ink’, and the different stories the drawings told. They were unprotected, just there. What a window to the past!
Our next stop was the culture center, where we learned of the religious and cultural significance of Uluṟu. It also explained their wishes against tourists, or anyone for that matter, climbing Uluṟu. During my first lessons on Uluṟu in the sixth grade I was told that it wasn’t right to climb Uluṟu, but my Aussie friends had made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal, as most had climbed it. The cultural center helped to solidify my desire to refrain from climbing.
The Anangu people, the Aboriginal tribe that resides at Uluṟu, says that they don’t judge those who climb it. They say it is each person’s decision, and they respect that. I, however, do judge. I think it’s deeply disrespectful and completely misses the point of what Uluṟu is all about. You don’t climb the Wailing Wall. You don’t wear a baseball cap into the Sistine Chapel. There are just certain things you don’t do.
None of us in the group wanted to climb it, except for Terry. Kate explained that usually Asians are the majority of those who climb Uluṟu. It’s not due to disrespect, but more of a lack of understanding. Apparently tour groups in Asia promote Uluṟu as a rock you climb, it’s just a thing they expect to do. Also, in their defense, the explanation that solidified my resolve to refrain from climbing the rock wasn’t translated into Korean, or Japanese, or Mandarin. It’s just a misunderstanding. And anyways, due to the wind and the water climbing was shut down-Terry didn’t get the option.
At this point the clouds had completely receded from Uluṟu, taking up their usual posts in the night sky. Our van headed towards a popular tourist area for the nightly Uluṟu tradition of sipping champagne (sparkling wine) and watching the sun set, painting the rock in all different shades of orangey-yellow.
We found our own little space away from all the crowds and Kate poured us glasses of wine while I set up my tripod. As the sun drifted behind the rock it was as if Uluṟu was lit from the inside. It glowed dark orange, which turned into a brilliant yellow, then back to an orange-gold hue. For those of you who scoff at the notion that the rock ‘changes colors’, it’s hard to explain without sounding mystical and spiritual. Just know that it truly glows vibrant shades of orange and yellow. Amazing.
Jeanette, Conny and I
The group
I got a few stunning shots of the rock, I was quite proud. After many a group photo the show was over. We were all energized and excited from such a magnificent experience, and ‘partied’ all the way back to the camp site.
These Adventure Tours are usually planned for group sizes in their twenties. Our group was made up of ten people including the tour guide-but the amount of supplies stayed constant. Which means we had many a bottle of wine. I had two or three glasses during sunset, then two at dinner and one at the campfire.
The night turned into a laughing fest as a few others in the group were a bit drunk as well. We were told that one of the managers of Adventure Tours would visit us and tell an Aboriginal dreamtime story. We were all pretty excited about it, but as it turned out it wasn’t much more than a man mumbling and drawing in the dirt with a stick. We were all giggling and cracking jokes just out of earshot of him-it was like we were in grade school again. I sat there numb, happy, giggly and warm, sharing the moment with good friends and a few others who joined us from another campsite.
I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I got up to go to the bathroom, and walked through a bench, knocking it over. (In my defense it was dark.) I walked in a zig-zag to the bathroom, my head in a haze, then crawled in my sleeping bag. I was so wonderfully warm, calm, and relaxed. I drifted off to sleep quickly, smoothly…
–ζ——δ——ζ–
Morning came once again too quickly, however this time I was immediately bitten by the frigid air of the desert morning. We all scrambled around in the dark to pack our things and get breakfast, then hopped on the bus to catch the sunrise. I was tired and my hair all greasy and mussed, but felt no effects from the previous night’s indulgences.
Kate dropped us off at the base of Uluṟu under the darkness of night, a few rays of fire marking the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise. Instead of watching the sunrise from a viewing point, Kate told us that the most stunning views would be seen during the base walk. It was still frigid and a biting wind had started up, but it would not deter us from the special moment.
The route
As Uluṟu is incredibly sacred, there were many sites and areas around the base that were cordoned off, forbidding anyone from entering the area or even to take pictures (enforced by a hefty fine-entering the site can put you back $5000 AUD). Reasoning behind this is that many of these areas are either men’s sacred sites or women’s sacred sites. The Anangu are afraid that if pictures are taken then the opposite sex may accidentally view them, a violation of their code.
I was messing with Jeanette about filming a sacred site, (which I wasn’t), and she attempted to grab the camera…haha.
The rock turned from a dark silhouette into a dark orange, then a bright yellow. The walk took us nearly around the entire rock, lasting two hours and about 7 kilometers. It took us through a high-desert-like environment to just plain desert, then through to a wooden meadow area, sprinkled with ghost gums that seemed like a wetland. The diversity was mindblowing, how a single rock could create such a plethora of environments.
After the walk, which took us past the smoothness, jaggedness, caves and sheer walls of Uluru, it was time to leave this special place and explore Kata Tjuta (Kata Joota).
Last views of Uluru
Kata Tjuta is one of the most spiritually significant places in all of Indigenous Australian culture, more significant than Uluru. (NOTE-Aborigines from here on will be referred to as Indigenous Australians, as this is the more politically-correct terminology.) It is a men’s sacred site, meaning that no Indigenous Australian women have ever visited it. It is made up of 36 domes, with the tallest 546 meters (1791 ft.), over 200 meters higher than Uluru. The white man’s name for Kata Tjuta is The Olgas.
The ride was about a half-hour, and before long the domes poked up over the scraggly brush. We neglected to stop at a viewing area (and a little bit of me died…), but we pushed on to a parking lot at the base of two of the domes. The plan was to hike in the valley between the domes. The hike was pretty easy, up a rocky path, but it was incredibly windy and threatened to steal my bush hat more than once.
This is not my picture...
From pictures the domes may seem small, but they are anything but. As we entered the valley we were dwarfed by the sheer sides of the domes. They were dark orangey-red, like most things in the red center, with a few holes and imperfections.
The trail led us through what seemed like a rocky wasteland into a lush, green oasis; a place with damp air and a sense of great fertility, and a small stream trickling through.
I asked Kate about the ‘Tie me kangaroo down sport’ song, and she commented that it was blatantly racist, with the lines:
Let me abos go loose
They’re of no further use, Lew
So let me abos go loose’.
After a quick lunch at the campsite we packed up all our things and headed to the airport. First we dropped off Yung and Terry at a hostel in Yularra, then Helen and I were dropped off at the Ayers Rock airport. Saying goodbye to the group was incredibly difficult, as I didn’t know if I would see any of them ever again. I shook hands with Roelof and Brett, hugged Conny and Jeanette and said goodbye to Kate and Simona. I got a sore throat, the beginnings of choking up, but pressed through. I waved goodbye to the van and headed in to the airport, just making the plane.
While I sat there, gazing at Uluru from the sky, I thought about the intense and profound relationships we all had cultivated within the past 60 hours or so. I genuinely love those folks on the tour; I’ve chatted quite a bit with Kate and Jeanette over the internet and am planning on having dinner with Roelof and Brett when I visit Melbourne next week. The trip was absolutely amazing, truly one of the highlights of my time here down under. I will never forget those people, or the amazing sights and feelings we all experienced together.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
The Changing Colors of Uluṟu
Photos by the author
Shrouded by clouds
Sunset
Sunset
Sunset
Sunset
Sunrise
Sunrise
Red Center Vids
During our tour of the Red Center one of our mates, Roelof from Melbourne, periodically took pictures and video. Last week I received a DVD in the mail, an incredible gift that brings back the feelings and emotions of that wonderful time. Here are those videos below, hope you enjoy!
Raining on the Rock
During my tour in the Red Center our tour guide Kate would play songs over the PA in the van that were appropriate for certain situations. When we arrived to Uluru it was raining, rendering an absolutely breathless sight and atmosphere. She then played the song below. It’s impossible to feel what we felt without being there, but maybe this will bring you a bit closer…
Shrouded Uluru
Shrouded Uluru
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
A rare sight of Uluru shrouded in the clouds…
ENTER: The Red Center
I groggily awoke from a haphazard nap; a slumber that was constantly at war with the roar of twin jet-engines. Peering out of my window I glimpsed an orange wasteland spread out below me, off into the distance as far as the eye could see. It was ‘a rich and inspiring nothing’: no trees, no lakes, no rivers, and no buildings. Small patches of clouds dotted the tundra, their shadows slightly offset, playing on the desert floor. It was a duotone landscape, orange transforming abruptly but smoothly into blue; desert to sky. I had caught my first glimpse of the ‘real Australia’, a place known as the Red Center.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
After a hurried morning of waking at 5:30, missing the train I was hoping to get, then finally arriving at the Domestic Airport at 8:20, I finally boarded my flight to Alice Springs, Northern Territory, Australia. I had been looking forward to this trip for a few weeks, and couldn’t wait to get out of the city and to the outback. On the itinerary was one night in Alice Springs, then Kings Canyon, Uluru and Kata Tjuta. The last two are the most sacred sights in Aboriginal culture/religion, and Uluru is often called ‘The Heart of Australia’ and has come to be a symbol of the nation.
Two and a half hours later the plane touched down in sunny, flat and dry Alice Springs. The place was crawling with flies, annoying little buggers that would buzz straight to the face. It was a constant battle to deflect them. I withdrew some money for a taxi and noticed that my balance was $90. I freaked out, found the nearest computer with internet and confirmed that the balance shown by the ATM was incorrect. This sort of needless financial freakout would continue to dog me for the remainder of my time in the Red Center.
I found that there was a shuttle to my accomodations, so I grabbed a piece of pavement by the van and continued to battle the flies. After 45 excruciating minutes of waiting for a plane to land from Cairns (pronounced Cans), I boarded the shuttle that would take us all to Haven Backpackers Resort. I say ‘excruciating’ because during the whole time I was waiting the same little rant kept going through my head: “I’m only in Alice Springs until tomorrow morning, its 1:30pm already and the shops will close by 5:30, AT LEAST! Ugh, this trip cost SO much and it’s all slipping away, as I’m baking at the damn airport being eaten by flies…”
I took my seat on the shuttle and the driver hopped in, jumped over the front seat to face us and asked us where we all were from. Some said Sydney, others Melbourne, yet others Cairns. “FUCK those places”, he proclaimed. “This is the REAL Australia!” Soon I came to find out how right he was. (I feel it important to not censor the previous profanity, in that it no doubt will shock you, much in the same way it shocked me. Also, it is important to note that profanity here is no big deal, as it sometimes is in the states. My friends say profanities around their parents, bosses, etc., and as long as it is not the “F” word, is acceptable…)
We arrived at the hostel, and after fifteen or so minutes of waiting to check in I finally reached the counter. I got much praise for last name, as everyone here absolutely loves it, and received my room key. After a few failed attempts I finally managed to get it to work, and opened up the door to my accomodations for the night: four seperate bunk beds in a single room, co-ed, with a single bathroom and shower. This would be quite interesting.
The accomodation itself, Haven Backpacker Resort, was a wonderful place to stay. It probably had around 70 or so rooms of up to eight beds apiece situated on two levels. Internet, free breakfast, a pool and spa, it was loaded! The rooms also had their own bathrooms with showers. Oh, and a large kitchen-I only used it for breakfast though.
I threw on some shorts, as it was nearly eighty degrees outside, and hurried towards town.
As I passed through town I saw my first Aboriginal people. I had seen Aborigines before at Circular Quay playing didgeridoos, but for some reason I really didn’t consider it a geniune experience. Not that they aren’t genuinely Aboriginal, but that the experiece is somewhat cheapened because them being there is all for tourists and profit. It was a compelling experience in that I was among relatives of the first proprietors of the land; the original Australians. I felt as though I was seeing celebrities whenever I saw one!
They are a truly fascinating people. (I’m afraid of writing the following things, as I’m worried it will be viewed as racist. It’s not meant that way, I have no contempt towards the Aboriginal people.) Their features are stunning, but I am finding them indescribable. They look as though they are an ancient people (which they are…but we are too…). And the combination of dark skin with naturally blond hair is striking.
Also, another thing that was extraordinary, in my opinion, was the smell of the Aboriginals-a body odor that was…different, unexplicable. Now, at first glance this seems derogatory, but one must move away from the ethnocentric ideal that the norm is cleanliness and an abscence of body odor. After walking around in Alice for the day I became familiar with the smell. Then, as I walked back towards town for some dinner later in the day I found myself zoning out and staring at the ground. I caught a whiff of the familiar smell and immediately thought, “Aborigines.” I looked up and barely made out three dark figures about fifty feet in front of me. As I passed them I discovered my olfactory sense was right.
It was sad, however, because many of the Aborigines I saw were inebriated or sitting around and drinking alcohol (during the day), or just wandering about, seemingly homeless. It seems as though I was seeing first-hand the effects of colonisation. If one builds their whole existence on the land, and that land is seized, how can one recover?
(An interesting juxtaposition: as I was walking into town I passed a small hill with a ‘City of Alice Springs’ sign pointing out that it was a sacred Aboriginal site. Beyond the sign I saw an old, haggard Aboriginal man take a last swig out of his beer bottle and toss it to the ground. I then looked to my left and saw a K-Mart…)
Now, I should note that these observations should NOT form my opinion of all Aboriginals or any of my readers opinions of all Aboriginals; this is merely what I experienced in Alice Springs.
Downtown Alice Springs is made up of maybe 6 to eight short streets; four streets crossing four. Main downtown, however, is essentially one pedestrian-only road lined with tourist shops, cafes, a bookstore, and Aboriginal art galleries, terminating with a shopping mall. There were Aboriginals panhandling along the street, playing some tunes on an old, beat-up guitar and a handful of others trying to sell their artwork. I grabbed a quick lunch at a cafe and perused the downtown area, stepping into an Aboriginal art gallery and continuing my quest for the surf shop I had heard so much about.
The Surf Shop!
Alice Springs is not an awesome town, or even a beautiful town, in my opinion. But it is a culturally-significant town, one that must be visited. I only had roughly six hours to experience it, which was enough, but I am so glad I was able to spend time there. The things that stick out the most are visiting a legitimate Aussie cowboy/rancher outfitters, mingling with the Aboriginals, and the knowledge that I was in the center of this great country, in outback Australia.
Legit Cowboy Outfitters!
At the end of the day I had accumulated some interesting purchases. A few native Australian seeds, a bush hat made from kangaroo leather, a few pieces of Aboriginal art, a traditional Aboriginal digging stick called a nala nala and a Peter Lik book dedicated to the Red Center. These purchases would later render a big fat goose egg in my bank account when I returned to Sydney, but it was well worth it (especially as one is a gift 
.)
During my purchase of the artwork and nala nala I had talked quite extensively with the saleswoman at Boomerang Art, a woman who was French and Polish. I’ll impart some of the wisdom that she passed on to me…
- Each Aboriginal person has two stories/objects to tell/describe: one that they receive from their father and one from their mother. These stories or objects help to explain the Aboriginals’ surroundings and its significance in their creation story. If one of your objects is a kangaroo, you cannot kill kangaroo. These stories must be passed on to others in one of three forms: song, story or art. Hence, Aboriginal art.
- One thing that the nala nala was used for is digging for honey ants. Young Aboriginal girls would be taught by their mothers to look for honey ant workers and dig in their general area. After digging for a long while they would come to the queen, which has a bulbous abdomen of honey. They would take these queens to the fire, heat them up, then suck their abdomen/honey out. Apparently it’s full of Vitamin C. Interesting, eh?
Honey Ant
- She told me to be careful about my decision and that certain pieces of art would speak to me. I was told to put each individual piece that I was interested in onto the gray-carpeted ground, giving it a neutral background.
- There are certain places in Australia where only Aboriginals can go, and the only way that non-Aboriginals can visit it is if they are invited. This is how the art galleries obtain their art: they form relationships with the Aboriginal tribes, then wait to be invited to their lands. They bring high quality brushes and canvas and pay the Aboriginals for their work. If there is a death and the Aborigines must perform ceremonies, the people from the galleries may not be allowed to visit for months.
- Alice Springs is the hub of Aboriginal art. It is in the center of many of the Aboriginal tribal lands. These tribes are very lucky in that they were not forced from the land that they have inhabited for thousands of years, which was not the fate of the majority of Aboriginal tribes.
I loved this woman, real love! She was so incredibly nice, treated me wonderfully, with respect, and was such a warm person! Australia is filled with these kind of people. Or maybe it was because I was giving her money…hmmm.
Walking back towards the hostel, I passed the small park-like area with the mound where I had earlier seen the Aboriginal man finish off his beer and throw the bottle into the fire, staggering away. There had been a drove of school boys running down a road that led to its top, and as it was nearing sunset, I decided to climb it and explore a bit and catch the sunset over Alice.
From the top I had 360° views of the town as well as the ‘mountain ranges’ that embraced it. (We wouldn’t call them mountain ranges, but as I was in one of the flattest places in the world, where a 100 meter-high hill gives you a view for nearly a hundred miles, contextually they were the Himalayas.)
I recorded a video, then sat myself down on the edge and gazed over the quaint town of Alice as the sun set. I removed my camera bag, vowing to not touch it; this was a moment that I was going to experience, one that would be solely mine. Selfish? Maybe, but too often my mind is occupied with finding the correct angle, the right composition or lighting, that I forget to just be and take the moment in. This was a moment for me, a time to absorb the beauty of the works of my creator. Him and me-simple, yet profound.
The moment the sun disappeared it felt like the temperature dropped ten degrees. I high-tailed it back to the hostel and threw on some pants. It was nearing dinner-time so I asked around for a place to eat; it ended up being Subway. Okay food on a burnt sub, but the girl who served me was nice, and obviously appreciated the company of an American, which is always nice.
I arrived back at the hostel absolutely exhausted, and it was only 9pm! That’s the super-awkward thing about crashing at a hostel, if you’re the first to go to bed randoms will come in and out for the rest of the night. I didn’t really care tho, and had a big day following, so I decided to see if I could get some shuteye. Which I couldn’t. What followed truly illustrates the fruits/disadvantages, depending on your situation/point of view, of staying at a co-ed hostel.
It was probably about eleven or so and I was sleeping under the one sheet I was given, tossing and turning, trying desperately to get to sleep. Two girls came in (French is my guess) and started to get ready for bed. As I was on my side facing them, I naturally had my eyes open. It is a rare occurence for a ‘pre-marital’/'pre-living with a female’ man to witness the bedtime rituals of the female sex. However, I got much more than I bargained for. The more attractive of the two dropped her pants, fumbled around with her stuff for a bit, then slipped on some sweats. Then, with her back luckily/unluckily to me, removed her shirt and bra in exchange for a bedtime shirt. Holy jeeze. I couldn’t close my eyes, as they were paralyzed open (AND I am a dude), and I didn’t want her to know I was awake, so I just kinda stayed in that position. She threw on a shirt, hopped into bed, and the surprise/excitement was over. I turned over myself and drifted away to sleep…
–ζ——δ——ζ–
I awoke before my alarm began to scream and laid in bed for a while. The anxiety of the day to come started to set in, and I realized that I felt absolutely terrible. My stomach felt like the middle of the Bering Sea, and I immediately began to invision the horrors that this could cause later in the day.
After my morning rituals and a few pieces of toast my body started to calm down. I hung out a bit with a couple in my room who had been living in South Korea, but were originally from the east coast of the states. He was in the military, and it was great talking to them. They had already been to Uluru, so they filled me in a little bit about it. I also had conversations with a girl from Tokyo and another girl from England. Actually, I was the only guy in the room!
I checked out, got my stuff together and headed out in search of food. A McDonald’s cheeseburger later the van pulled up in front of the hostel. A woman dressed in all green pseudo-canvas clothing disembarked and headed my way. “Are you Petah” she asked in her thick Aussie accent. I answered with the affirmative and hopped on. I was greeted by a middle-aged woman, two beautiful girls that looked my age and two early-to-mid-forties men sitting in the back. I exchanged somewhat awkward ‘hellos’ with them and took my seat.
Lunch wasn’t included in the tour so we headed to a supermarket to get some snacks. I had been looking for a way to initiate conversation with previously-mentioned girls, and I soon learned that they were German. As I perused the aisles of the supermarket (more like minimarket) we crossed paths. “So what part of Germany are you from?”
“Bavaria,” she replied. Ah! I got so excited at hearing this as I have family in the Bavaria and visited in 2000. We spoke a bit about the Black Forest, where my family lives and such. After checking out we hopped back on the van to pick up the rest of our party from the airport. This included a girl from Switzerland, a young man from South Korea and another from Hong Kong. There was supposed to be a fourth, but she didn’t show up and we ended up ditching her. Whatever, her loss!
We left the airport and headed west along the Stuart Highway. Within twenty minutes or so all houses and signs of human interference, save a few fences and the paved highway, had vanished, leaving us with an incredibly flat terrain. Small bushes and trees (trees larger than ten feet were rare) were all skirted with red sand. There were a few hills and miniature valleys, but for the most part it was incredibly flat. I believe there was one option to turn in six hours of driving, possibly two.
THIS is why they call it the Red Center. Thanks to Kate Scollary for permission to use the photo...! (Photo not from our tour.)
Again, thanks to Kate Scollary for the photo... (Photo not from our tour.)
We left from Alice Springs, first stopping at Kings Canyon.
It looked like this for about six or so hours...
I soon learned the name of the German woman who sat in front of me; Conny. After we started to speak we nearly continued until arrival at Kings Canyon. We spoke about Germany and my ties to it (among a multitude of other things). She loved my middle name (Josef) as well as my dad’s name (Franz), both traditional German names; this almost endeared me to her, and made me feel as if I could join the ‘German Club’. She had spent some time in Boston so her English was smooth and clear, and our conversing really helped to pass the time. Six hours of sleeping, talking, listening to music, watching the bush and looking out for kangaroo/dingoes; not a bad way to pass the time.
The bush
During these first six hours Conny was pretty much the only one I talked to. Her travel partner/friend sat in front of her, but due to her not being all that comfortable with her English she let Conny do most of the talking. Later I would come to know her as Jeanette.
Jeanette and Conny had met each other in college, and Jeanette now lives in France. They decided to take a year trip to Australia to holiday and work, but like so many others with the same plan, they couldn’t find work and resorted to shortening the trip to only holiday. Shortening, however, is not a word I would use here. They had been in Australia for three and a half months, travelling around and sightseeing up and down the east coast. This was their last major trip, and they were itching to get back to Germany; they’d burned out on each other a bit.
We stopped every two hours for petrol, and checking out these service stations was quite the cultural experience. All of these service stations seemed the same. They all had pumps (obviously), cafés or diners, tourist shops, and small attractions. The first one we came to had a caged-off area of emus. I didn’t really know this until recently, but the emu is native to Australia and is somewhat of a national icon. The Socceroos’ jerseys, the national soccer team, has a crest with a kangaroo and an emu prominently on the front.
The rest area
Inside
The service station also had a cool old-fashioned bar. A woman smoking a cigarette, a couple shooting pool and an old, past-his-prime bushman watching an AFL game on the big screen comprised the patrons. I ordered a meal that took way too long to cook, making me the last one to the van. That’s never a good feeling. This trend would continue for the rest of the trip. I absolutely hated it.
The next two hours went by relatively quickly. I can’t remember anything really of note other than I started chatting a bit with Jeanette and we all had more interaction with the guys from Melbourne in the back of the van. We all had started to come together.
The next and final service station was my favorite. It’s attraction was camel rides, but more interestingly it also functioned as a kangaroo rescue. They looked after Joeys (baby kangaroos) who had lost their mothers and were too small to survive in the bush on their own. They were kept in an enclosed space until they had grown to survivable height, when they were released back into the wild. It is super lame, but I really haven’t had that much interaction with kangaroos while I’ve been here, so this was pretty special for me. I haven’t even seen one in the wild yet! (I’ve heard one though…) To see them move is so interesting, and they almost look otherworldy with their huge feet, long, thick tails, comically-tiny arms, horse faces and their hopping gait.
We were there for feeding time, so I got to witness them all come hopping over, probably twenty or so of them, to the feed bowl and gather around. It was something I hadn’t experienced before (somewhat obviously), and it was pretty special!
I have to explain the significance of camels. Back in the days of exploration of Australia, which was the 19th Century, camels were brought over from the Middle East to aid in said exploration. Many camel farmers cropped up, and after a while the government decided it wasn’t a good idea. Camels aren’t native to Australia, and the government felt that they had completed their duty. Camel farmers were all told to kill their camels, and that would be the end of it. I bet you can guess what happened…Many camel farmers released their stock into the wild instead of killing them, where they flourished. The Northern Territory now has around one million camels, more than anywhere in the world, including the Middle East. Also, Kate informed us that if a wild camel could be caught it would be the captors to keep. We all found that pretty interesting.
Kate, our guide, alerted us that if we hurried we would be able to see sunset over some mountain range, so we hopped back on the van and zoomed towards our destination. It took about another hour or so, but we finally reached the campsite. Kate checked us in, then led on us a short walk through the bush on a boardwalk to a viewing area where we would see the sun set behind the George Gill Ranges. It was calm and beautiful, a wonderful way to start the night.
The sunset
Once again we all piled into the van as we took of towards the camp site. Kate put on the Indiana Jones theme while we offroaded it, around sharp turns, up and down over bumps. It was quite a ride!
One of the great features of the trip was permanent camp sites. Both nights we had our own private camp sites complete with permanent shelters with bunks and a covered eating/cooking area. It wasn’t roughing it at all, but still a fun way to experience nature and the outback.
Dinner consisted of noodles with bolognese sauce, a hearty and ‘oh so’ tasty meal. Post dinner we all migrated to the fire pit, with Kate and I visiting what was rumored to be an old Aboriginal burial ground to collect some wood. Apparently there had been ghost sitings and such; it was pretty cool!
Our time around the campfire was a riot! Kate told stories of past groups and ridiculously stupid questions she’s been asked, while Roelof (pronounced Rule-off), the South African-turned Australian entertained us with his marshmallow-roasting skills. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, excitement from being on vacation or just his personality, but he was an absolute riot. He kept on calling the marshmallows ‘mushrooms’, which spawned a few jokes of him being under the influence of magical mushrooms, and he put us in stitches with his quips towards his companion Brett. There were also a few kangaroo tails roasting in our firepit, and once we had grown wary of their presence Roelof terrorized the neighboring camp with them. It was a fantastic night.
Roelof roasting marshmallows. To my direct right is Kate, to Roulin's left is Helen, then Brett.
Photo Courtesy of Simona Meloni
The weather was incredible as well. Remember this is the middle of the desert, super-hot days and cold nights. That night it didn’t get lower than 65 degrees or so, and it was an incredibly clear sky; and eerie combination. Due to this most of us elected to sleep outside under the stars in swags, a type of envelope for our sleeping bags. It’s difficult to explain, but see the pictures below.
My swag (without a sleeping bag).
Jeanette and Conny in their swags. I slept right off to the right. (Photo courtesty of Jeanette, tho I took it...:))
I’ve never seen the Milky Way that milky before, just thick with stars. Roelof also pointed out to me the Southern Cross, a constellation that has a place on the Australian flag which is nearly impossible to see from Sydney. It felt as though we were in a tin can with holes poked in the top, the stars were so intense. (Though not as intense as the stars on a Costa Rican beach. Remember that, parents?)
After a few shooting and falling stars I drifted off to sleep. Finally, I had made it to the real Australia; the Australian outback!
–ζ——δ——ζ–
After our time around the campsite we really started to get to know one another, and began to form what would later feel like a sort of family. (Well, I didn’t view everyone as family…;) ) It is now my honor to introduce you to the crew!
We were lucky to have as our tour guide Kate, a woman in her late-twenties from Melbourne, who currently ‘keeps (her) stuff in Alice Springs.’ She had been tour guiding for approx. eight months. She’s an adventorous yet laid back woman who enjoys her beer (a requirement of being Australian)!
Next came Helen, a middle-aged woman from Melbourne. She works for the University of Queensland-Melbourne with International Students, so it was interesting to talk with her about my experiences as an international student.
I’ve previously mentioned Brett and Roelof, companions from Melbourne in their mid-40′s who would come to be referred to as ‘the boys’ (though I preferred the ‘two amigos’). They had travelled the world together, and brought much humor, insight and entertainment to our clan.
The people I became the closest to on the trip were Conny and Jeanette, the young women from Germany. They were a lot of fun as well, and I am so terribly lucky that they were on this trip! It was similar to the dynamics of my relationship with Emily in Hawai’i, if any of you catch that reference…
Simona is a 19-year old from Switzerland whose been studying in Cairns for about the same duration as myself. She’s a quiet girl, but also quite fun!
Rounding out the group was Terry from Hong Kong and Yung from South Korea. Due to a rigid language barrier we really didn’t have all that much interaction with them, but it was obvious that they were two intelligent and interesting young men, truly good guys.
The incredibleness of this trip rests squarely on the shoulders of these nine indiviuals. Before I had joined the group I had spoken to a girl at the hostel about her trip. She told me a bit about it, then remarked, “It really depends on your group.” I was so very lucky to be on this trip with these nine people, they truly made it a delightful time.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
Thanks to Ashleigh Hull and Kel Pearson for descriptive help.
sun sets fire to uluru
sun sets fire to uluru
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
View more photos of my trip to the Red Center here–>
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=257053&id=692785536&l=b364099980
Trekkin’ to the Outback-Uluru!
2.14.11-UPDATE–Read the edited and polished version of my time in the Red Center at SaintProse.com.
During the two-week Easter break many of my friends travelled all over Australia, and to New Zealand and Fiji. I was excited for my parents to come, but it also brought up a bit of frustration. I really wanted to explore Australia during that time, but I also wanted to be my parents’ tour guide and show them how I’d been living for the past two or three months. I expressed these feelings to them, and they offered to pay for a trip during the first week of the break, and for the second week I would accompany them to New Zealand. This felt like the best of both worlds, so I set out to plan my trip.
My goal was to get to Uluru, a rock sacred to the Aborigines in the direct center of Australia (pronounced Ooh-lah-rooh. Also known as Ayers Rock).
If you can't read it, the small yellow thumbtack with text next to it is Uluru.
-crop.jpg "Uluru")
Uluru--stunning ain't it?
I headed to the campus’ travel agent and queried about flights and costs and such. Turns out that a return ticket to Alice Springs, the city that one must fly in to to see Uluru, cost between $750-800 Australian dollars during the break. With the two-night tour costing $450 AUD, it was a bit overboard.
I decided to reschedule for a different weekend, one that was in less of a holiday time-frame, which would bring the flight prices down. That different weekend is next weekend. I leave on May 22 and return May 25. I depart from Sydney at 9:50am and arrive in Alice Springs at 12:45pm. I then spend the night in Alice Springs and head out to Uluru the following day.
The following is the Itinerary…
HIGHLIGHTS
- Aussie swag’ option is available for passengers wishing to “sleep under the stars”!
- Full rim hike and camp oven dinner at Kings Canyon
- Uluru sunset with sparkling Australian wine
- Uluru sunrise and Uluru base walk
- Permanent campsites at Kings
ITINERARY
Day 1 – Alice Springs or Uluru to Kings Canyon
Departing Alice at 12.00noon, we travel through a variety of outback scenery including vibrant red dune country and the craggy ranges of Central Australia. One of our rest stops is the Aboriginal-owned Mt Ebenezer Roadhouse with its excellent art gallery. Settle into our secluded campsite near Kings Canyon with comfortable permanent twin-share tents (yes, we do have decent toilets and showers out there!) and lend a hand as we cook up some top tucker tonight (dinner)! An ‘Aussie swag’ is available for those wishing to sleep under the stars!
Meals: Dinner
Day 2 – Kings Canyon to Uluru
The full 6km Kings Canyon rim walk takes 3 plus hours (and requires an early start!) led by your knowledgeable driver-guide. Admire the sandstone domes of the Lost City, sheer cliff top views along the North and South Walls and the almost tropical Garden of Eden. Our journey to Uluru passes the table-topped Mt Conner and a break at Curtin Springs Station Roadhouse, the only service point on the 300km drive from Kings Creek to Yulara. Lunch is en-route and the late afternoon takes in the Cultural Centre followed by sparkling wine at the Uluru sunset. Our campsite at Yulara also offers excellent facilities including permanent twin-share tents (swag option also available) and all that we need to prepare another tasty dinner.
Meals: Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner
Day 3 – Uluru & Kata Tjuta
Up nice and early for Uluru sunrise, followed by a choice of base walks (recommended) or the climb (the Anangu traditional owners request visitors not to). Of special interest are the many sacred sites around the Base, notably the Mala & Mutitjulu waterholes – small springs supporting life since the Dreamtime. We then hike and explore amongst the many sandstone domes at Kata Tjuta.
Either finish at Yulara at 12 noon (B) or stay aboard and arrive back in Alice Springs in the early evening (accommodation drop offs available).Meals: Breakfast, Lunch
From http://www.travelaust.com.au/adventure/nt/asp008.html
Now, I don’t want to talk too much about Uluru is because I would like to cover that in the posts post-Uluru, but I’ll give you some info here, a la wikipedia. Uluru is a ‘large sandstone rock formation in the southern part of the Northern Territory, central Australia.’ It is pretty strikingly remote, with the ‘nearest large town (being) Alice Springs; 450 km (280 mi) by road.’ It is also listed as a ‘World Heritage Sight’. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uluru).
Uluru is one of Australia’s most recognisable natural icons. The world-renowned sandstone formation stands 348 m (1,142 ft) high (863 m/2,831 ft above sea level) with most of its bulk below the ground, and measures 9.4 km (5.8 mi) in circumference. Both Uluru and Kata Tjuta have great cultural significance for the Aṉangu Traditional landowners, who lead walking tours to inform visitors about the local flora and fauna, bush foods and the Aboriginal dreamtime stories of the area.
Uluru is notable for appearing to change colour as the different light strikes it at different times of the day and year, with sunset a particularly remarkable sight when it briefly glows red. Although rainfall is uncommon in this semiarid area, during wet periods the rock acquires a silvery-grey colour, with streaks of black algae forming on the areas that serve as channels for water flow. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uluru).
For this trip I spent a large amount of money for a relatively short time, but I know it will be worth it. Many people never get the chance to get this far into Australia (even the locals!). This is the definition of ‘Outback’. Red rock, scorching sun, flat for miles; it will be like nothing I have ever seen before. I am extremely excited! Gotta stock up on memory cards and get a small, portable camera tri-pod! Oh, and look for a post or posts the following week after the trip.
Here are a few more interesting tidbits to leave you with…
Following text taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uluru.
Aṉangu continue to hunt and gather animal species in remote areas of the park and on anangu land elsewhere. Hunting is largely confined to the Red Kangaroo,Bush Turkey, Emu and lizards such as the Sand Goanna and Perentie.
Uluru – Kata Tjuta National Park flora represents a large portion of plants found in Central Australia. A number of these species are considered rare and restricted in the park or the immediate region. There are many rare and endemic plants at Uluru and Kata Tjuta.
The growth and reproduction of plant communities rely on irregular rainfall. Some plants are able to survive fire and some are dependent on it to reproduce. Plants are an important part of Tjukurpa, and there are ceremonies for each of the major plant foods. Many plants are associated with ancestral beings.
Trees such as the Mulga and Centralian Bloodwood are used to make tools such as spearheads, boomerangs and bowls. The red sap of the bloodwood is used as a disinfectant and an inhalant for coughs and colds.
The park receives an average rainfall of 307.7 mm (12.1 in) per year, and average temperatures are 37.8 °C (100.0 °F) in the summer and 4.7 °C (40.5 °F) in the winter. Temperature extremes in the park have been recorded at 45 °C (113 °F) during the summer and −5 °C (23 °F) during winter nights. UV levels are extreme most days, averaging between 11 and 15.[8]
Local Aboriginal people recognise five seasons:
- Piriyakutu (August/September) – Animals breed and food plants flower
- Mai Wiyaringkupai (November/December) – The hot season when food becomes scarce
- Itjanu (January/February/March) – Sporadic storms can roll in suddenly
- Wanitjunkupai (April/May) – Cooler weather
- Wari (June/July) – Cold season bringing morning frosts
There are a number of differing accounts given, by outsiders, of Aboriginal ancestral stories for the origins of Uluru and its many cracks and fissures. One such account, taken from Robert Layton’s (1989) ULURU: An Aboriginal history of Ayers Rock,[10] reads as follows:
“Uluru (Ayers Rock) was built up during the creation period by two boys who played in the mud after rain. When they had finished their game they travelled south to Wiputa ..Fighting together, the two boys made their way to the table topped Mount Conner, on top of which their bodies are preserved as boulders” (Page 5)
Two other accounts are given in Norbert Brockman’s (1997) Encyclopedia of Sacred Places.[11] The first tells of serpent beings who waged many wars around Uluru, scarring the rock. The second tells of two tribes of ancestral spirits who were invited to a feast, but were distracted by the beautiful Sleepy Lizard Women and did not show up. In response, the angry hosts sang evil into a mud sculpture that came to life as the dingo. There followed a great battle, which ended in the deaths of the leaders of both tribes. The earth itself rose up in grief at the bloodshed, becoming Uluru.
The local Aṉangu do not climb Uluru because of its great spiritual significance. They request that visitors not climb the rock, partly due to the path crossing a sacred traditional Dreamtime track, and also due to a sense of responsibility for the safety of visitors to their land. The Aṉangu believe they have a spiritual connection to Uluru, and feel great sadness when a person dies or is injured whilst climbing.
On 11 December 1983, the Prime Minister Bob Hawke promised to hand back the land title to the Aṉangu traditional owners and agreed to the community’s 10-point plan which included forbidding the climbing of Uluru. However, the government set access to climb Uluru and a 99-year lease, instead of the previously agreed upon 50-year lease, as conditions before the title was officially given back to the Aṉangu.[16]
Climbing Uluru is a popular attraction for visitors. A chain handhold added in 1964 and extended in 1976 makes the hour-long climb easier, but it is still a long (800 m/0.5 mi) and steep hike to the top, where it can be quite windy. An above-average level of fitness and a high tolerance to desert conditions is required. Climbing Uluru is generally closed to the public when high winds are recorded at the top. Over the years there have been at least 35 deaths relating to climbing incidents.
The Aṉangu also request that visitors do not photograph certain sections of Uluru, for reasons related to traditional Tjukurpa beliefs. These areas are the sites of gender-linked rituals, and are forbidden ground for Aṉangu of the opposite sex of those participating in the rituals in question. The photographic ban is intended to prevent Aṉangu from inadvertently violating this taboo by encountering photographs of the forbidden sites in the outside world.[17][8]
