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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 1:06:43 GMT
Australia's Red Centre - Uluru/Ayers Rock; November 2014When we think of a country’s icon, we usually consider man-made structures. There’s the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, Leaning Tower of Pisa, Statue of Liberty – all magnificent and invoking instant recognition. But when it comes to the world’s natural wonders being icons, one that indelibly links to Australia is Uluṟu, better known as Ayers Rock. To me, Uluṟu is one of the ‘bucket list’ destinations, and one I should have visited well before now. And after all, it’s just down the road, assuming a road trip of almost 3,000km meets that definition. Flying in a straight line makes the trip easier but it’s still 2,000km and three hours in the air to one of the remotest iconic places on earth. The nearest town is Alice Springs, 450km away – so the best way to see how far you are from everything is to view it from the air. The Australian interior is absolutely desolate, something I know quite well since I see seven hours of it from the plane each time I fly to Europe. From the air, all the way to the horizon is flat and dry. You don’t see towns, buildings, trees or wildlife; just swirls of brown earth and rock that have been baking in the heat for several million years. Occasionally you see a road, more like a track, leading to some distant outpost, or the white expanses of the great salt lakes devoid of water. And the closer you get to Central Australia, the more the earth turns from brown to red. There are two options with airports: Alice Springs, or Yulara, the latter being a township near the Rock itself, and where we were headed. If you arrive at Alice Springs, it’s a five hour drive to Uluṟu. If you’re contemplating a trip to Uluṟu by air, the best side of the plane is on the left because that usually will give you an aerial view of the world’s largest monolith – and it is indeed a spectacular sight just prior to landing. So here are some facts about Uluṟu/Ayers Rock. The earliest exploration of the area was conducted by Ernest Giles in 1873-74 and he was the first European to discover The Olgas, a rock formation to the west of Uluṟu. He also saw Uluṟu itself but credit for the official discovery goes to a young explorer named William Gosse who reached it a few months later. He named it ‘Ayers Rock’ after the South Australian premier Henry Ayers, although it now has a joint name, Uluṟu/Ayers Rock. Uluṟu (pronounced ‘ool-or-roo’) is an Aboriginal name and it’s sacred to the local Aṉangu people. And here are the statistics: the rock stands 348 metres high above the desert plain (that’s 24m higher than the Eiffel tower) and its circumference is 9.4km. Geologically, it’s what’s called an inselberg (an island mountain) and made of sandstone. And like an iceberg, most of it is hidden under the surface, perhaps as deep as six kilometres. Despite the huge expanse of desert, Central Australia was once an inland sea, 500 million years ago, formed after the continent separated from Antarctica and India. Uluṟu is related to, and in fact connected to Kata-Tjuṯa (The Olgas) another sandstone structure to the west. Together, they form Uluṟu- Kata-Tjuṯa National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Beyond Australia’s urban areas, we call the land ‘The Bush’ – plenty of trees and other flora. But out here, it’s beyond the Bush and what we call the Australian outback - a desert wilderness. We are in the south-eastern corner of the Great Sandy Desert. Over to the east is the Simpson Desert, a sand sea with the world’s longest parallel sand dunes. To the west, over the horizon is the Gibson Desert.  If you plan to visit this part of the world there are some precautions you absolutely must take. The first of these is appropriate clothing and especially a hat. Decent footwear is also necessary if you’re exploring areas close to the rock structures. The temperature was about 40°C when we were there (late November) but it’s much hotter under the direct sun. Another essential item is water – carry lots of it and keep drinking; dehydration is a serious risk here. And sunscreen and insect repellent should be brought – those flies are a real nuisance. Day 1After the three-hour flight we landed at Connellan Airport, Yulara – a single landing strip and a tiny terminal typical of remote regional areas in Australia. Yulara is combination of two Aboriginal names for ‘howling’ and ‘dingoes’. The ‘township’ is really a resort complex of a few hotels, a camping ground and a few shops, created in the mid 1970s to relocate development away from the immediate vicinity of Uluṟu, which is 18km away and protected within the national park.  Uluru/Ayers Rock from the plane Upon entering the airport terminal we collected the keys to our rental car and headed south along Lasseter Highway for a few minutes before arriving at our hotel at Ayers Rock Resort. The room was nice and large and the air-conditioning most welcome. We briefly checked-in before walking to the one supermarket to buy some water and food for a later dinner on the run. As we drove toward Uluṟu it’s an incredible sight to see this huge rock looming ahead, growing as we get closer. 
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 1:57:38 GMT
(Part 2): First stop was the Cultural Centre within the Kata-Tjuṯa National Park and to get there you have to pass a control point where you purchase an entry pass - $25 each for a three-day admission. Just inside the 1,300 square km national park is a cultural centre that has a few displays about the Aṉangu people and the park itself. Photography is prohibited here. We spoke to one of the staff and got some good advice about modifying my tour plan – with just the afternoon plus one full day available, you really shouldn’t waste time by not having a broad idea of what to see. So we headed off toward Kata-Tjuta which is about 25km west of Uluṟu. After Giles discovered this rocky range he named the highest peak Mount Olga, after Grand Duchess Olga of Russia, Queen of Wϋrttemberg. The Aboriginal name Kata-Tjuṯa (pronounced ‘katta joo-ta’) means ‘many heads’ and it’s an apt title, considering the 36 domed peaks the Olgas comprise. And from the appearance, the connection to Uluṟu’s sandstone congomerate is obvious.  There’s a boardwalk and viewing platform from which you get a good profile of The Olgas, particularly striking at sunrise. While we were here, a whistling sound could be heard and it got louder and louder – and then I saw it: a ‘willy willy’. This is an Australian whirlwind, a bit like a mini tornado and sometimes termed a ‘dust devil’ in parts of the world. They’re common in hot, dry areas because they form by hot air at ground level rising through a cooler air pocket immediately above it and then swirling into a vortex. And it was coming straight at us, now roaring loudly. I warned Mrs Oz to hold onto her hat as it swept past us and after a few seconds it was gone, racing away over the dunes. No damage and it gave me the opportunity to remind Mrs Oz that I’m still the only one who ever truly swept her off her feet.   ‘Willy Willy’ dust whirlwind Continuing, we drove past the rock formations and stopped at Walpa Gorge. The name ‘walpa’ is the Aṉangu word for ‘wind’ and on a much windier day I can imagine it whistling through this gorge. Before setting off on a walk, we ate our dinner of pre-packaged salad and sliced chicken (leaving it in the hot car wouldn’t have been wise). Then with bottled water in hand we began a mini trek through the gorge. It was hard work in the heat and the track is very uneven so sturdy footwear is necessary. After spending an hour there we returned to the car.  |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 2:03:27 GMT
Part3: I looked across to the west and wondered about the location of one of Australia’s most enduring legends: Lasseter’s Reef. It’s sort of like King Solomon’s mines – a story of hidden treasure. Harold Lasseter was a character who claimed in 1929 that he had discovered a massive gold reef, some 150km west of The Olgas. With the onset of the Great Depression the allure of gold riches enabled Lasseter to obtain funding for an expedition to locate the reef. But things went badly when it became apparent to the expedition leaders that Lasseter was either a fraud or insane. They decided to turn back but Lasseter wanted to continue on alone. Eventually, his camels deserted him and he would have died then had it not been for local aborigines who cared for him with food, water and shelter in a cave. But Lasseter was stubborn and ventured out into the desert, hoping to make it to The Olgas, 180km to the east. He didn’t get far before succumbing to exhaustion, starvation and heat. So did Lasseter’s reef really exist? Probably not, but when you stand at Mount Olga and look west, (see picture) you might wonder whether there really is anything out there.  The Olgas have so many domed peaks; there are endless photographic opportunities here. The colours constantly change when you alter the angle of view or if the sun pops out from a cloud.  So, leaving Kata-Tjuṯa behind, we began our return drive to Uluṟu where we planned to wait for the sunset. I must admit that in all my world travels I’ve never known of such a place that has large observation areas dedicated to viewing sunrises and sunsets. It’s a big deal here, and it’s only after you feast your eyes on this extraordinary sight that you understand why. We stopped at the Car Sunset parking area, just west of the Rock, and it was already packed with people who had driven there for the same reason as us. Nearby is the Bus Sunset parking area where the tour groups view the scene. Many of these are AAT Kings coaches, belonging to the same group as Trafalgar. You can certainly do your exploration of this region as a guided tour, although this seems to attract more overseas visitors than Australians who drive themselves. Finding a suitable area with views to both the setting sun and Uluṟu, I began alternating photos of the western sunset and the Rock.  |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 2:11:31 GMT
Part 4: I was beginning to think that the sunset itself was about all I was going to see of interest ...  Uluru (just before sunset) .... until I heard people gasping and saying “Oh, my God, look at that!” Spinning around I saw what had just happened: Uluṟu had suddenly turned from a dull brown to bright orange/red. It’s one of the most awesome spectacles I have ever seen and these 'before & after' photos show the stunning change.. The effect of red sandstone being bombarded with red light from the sunset is simply jaw-dropping and the photo doesn’t do justice to what you actually see in person.  Uluru (at sunset) And then, after ten minutes the sun dipped below the horizon and the Rock quickly faded back to a dark brown as it began to blend into the dusk. We drove back to our hotel at the resort, absolutely gobsmacked at what we had just witnessed. The day’s heat had still not dissipated so the air-conditioned hotel room was a welcome relief. We opened a half-bottle of wine from the mini-bar. It was expensive at $18, but alcohol isn’t available at the shops, usually due to its effect on aboriginal communities. And with a glass of wine each, we celebrated our arrival in Central Australia and the spectacular sights we had seen in just one afternoon. Then to bed: we planned to wake very early the next morning. (To be continued...) |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 2:22:13 GMT
Day 2
Waking at 5am when you’re on holidays won’t be the preference of most people, but when your vacation time is short you really do have to plan well to see everything. And besides, Mother Nature doesn’t negotiate. The reason for our early rising was to watch the sunrise at Uluṟu, this time from a different vantage point, the Talinguṟu Nyakunytjakij viewing area. This is located on the south-east corner of the Rock and about the same distance from the base as the sunset viewing area the night before. To get there, we drove into the national park again, showing our 3-day pass at the entry gate to prove we had paid. Ahead was the brooding hulk of Uluṟu silhouetted against the sky. It wasn’t long until we reached the carpark and walked to the viewing area. This is a massive set of platforms that provides for large crowds and it was indeed necessary: plenty of people were already here, 30 minutes before sunrise. The view to the Rock is good and you can also turn around to see behind you the faint glow of the sun about to emerge from the eastern horizon.  So we wait. And wait. And wait. The sun popped up on cue at 5:50am but the clouds were too thick and dark to radiate the orange, pink and red hues that would have been necessary to replicate the previous night’s splendour. The following was about the best that could be achieved and pretty as it was, it lacked the depth and colours to illuminate Uluṟu much at all.  Uluru; southern face However, The Olgas fared better as they shone in the distance when directly struck by sunrays. I managed to capture this image of Kata-Tjuṯa to the left, with the southern-most point of Uluṟu in the foreground.  By 6pm the crowd began to dissipate, knowing that this was not to be the morning for a grand spectacle. I was philosophical; I couldn’t imagine anything beating last evening’s performance by Uluṟu. We returned to our car and drove a short distance to the Kuniya carpark, from which we would commence our planned clockwise walk around the base of Uluṟu, starting with the Lungkata Walk. But first, a mention about the Aboriginal names I’m using here. They are difficult to remember, so you don’t have to try. The Aṉangu people use a language called Pitjantjatjara which they have retained with most of their culture, despite western influences. Embedded in the culture and language are deep spiritual meanings and connections to ceremonies. It’s not surprising that much of this is based on being part of the land itself and the animals and plants that live on it. Some of these themes emerge as mythological stories that we encounter on our walks In the Dreamtime (The Creation) Kuniya was the woma python (snake boy) who was attacked and killed by the Liru (venomous snakes) that threw spears at him. The spears that missed gouged the holes we see on the rock face. The boy’s aunt chased the Liru and killed one of them. A wavy line on the rock signifies the path she took.
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 2:30:20 GMT
Part 6: Before setting off from our walk we had breakfast – pre-packaged yoghurt and muesli in containers we purchased the previous day from the supermarket. It worked well to have this all ready to avoid eating too early or skipping breakfast altogether. And you must not leave any rubbish around the park. We began walking west along the Lungkaṯa walk. Wati Lungkaṯa was the blue-tongued lizard man who found a speared emu which he killed and ate. He lied about this to the emu’s hunters which led to them lighting a fire outside his cave which killed him. The dark markings on the rock portray his fall down the face of Uluṟu. The moral: don’t be greedy or dishonest.  The Lungkaṯa walk, like the rest of the base walk is flat, but very green with plenty of trees and spinifex plants. If you’re ever at Uluṟu after it rains you’ll encounter an incredible sight as the water cascades down the rockface. But not today – no rain is forecast; just heat, all 40°C (104°F) of it. That’s why it’s recommended to get all your walks over in the cooler morning, before 11am. The first walk is 2km and was supposed to take 45 minutes but we were feeling energetic and did it in half an hour. The plan was to arrive at the Mala carpark by 8am when a free guided tour by a ranger starts. We waited awhile before deciding to skip the talk and do it ourselves before the day got too hot. The Mala walk commences at the point where some people choose to climb Uluṟu. The Aṉangu people request that visitors do not attempt this climb and there are several reasons for it: Cultural – The Rock is sacred and should be respected, not conquered. The climb crosses a sacred track that is disrespectful to the Aṉangu. Safety – The climb is very dangerous; it’s steep and physically demanding. Over 35 people have died attempting it, usually due to heart attacks. You have to be fit with healthy blood pressure, no respiratory or heart issues, and no fear of heights. The Aṉangu feel responsible when anybody dies on their land. Environmental – The track up the face of Uluṟu is now worn flat from thousands of feet and rubbish left behind ends up at the base, affecting wildlife. The climb is often banned due to excess temperatures, rain or high winds that make it too dangerous. I had no intention of climbing this enormous structure and if you saw the scary gradient you have to scale before you even get to the start of the chain rope you would likely agree with me. As it turned out, it was too windy and the climb was closed by way of a closed gate so we didn’t see any mishaps.  We continued onto the Mala Walk which is very popular, taking 45 minutes to cover 1km. Mala was the rufous hare-wallaby and the Aṉangu considered the Mala People to be ancestral beings that watch over them from crevices and holes in Uluṟu. You spend plenty of time looking at interesting rock features here. There are several caves and meeting places where the natives would congregate, often strictly separated by gender. Sections of the escarpment that are not exposed to the elements have rock art on them. Along this walk we came to Kaṉtju Gorge, an incredibly quiet corner with sheer rock walls. You’re supposed to be silent when you enter this area as it’s a place to reflect. There’s a seat nearby where we rested in absolute silence; few tourists were walking the trails this morning. The still air and trees near the steep face of the gorge provided a tranquil environment that was incredibly peaceful.  |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 2:37:29 GMT
Part 7: Finishing the Mala Walk we continued on the path, now at the north-west corner of Uluṟu and having walked 1.5km. That left another 9.5km ahead of us to complete the circuit of the Rock – and it was beginning to get very hot. There are many rock features here that are not supposed to be photographed, mainly because there’s a risk that Aṉangu people might inadvertently view them (there’s still a very sacred set of rules for these people). I tried to respect this but it’s almost impossible because any wide angle photos inevitably capture some of these features. And you don’t know until you reach the sign that the photo you took 5 minutes earlier included prohibited areas. Given the millions of photos of Uluṟu on the internet and in books, it’s probably a forlorn cause, but hopefully none of the images reproduced here are problematic. Some of the caves display rock art, painted by locals long, long ago.  Occasionally, birds could be seen fossicking around for food – such as this Spinifex Pigeon  At the north-western portion of the Rock the track runs parallel to and part of the nearby road for awhile before separating. The base walk along the north face becomes straighter and if you want to say you’ve stood on Ayers Rock there’s a shallow edge of it you could step on, which I doubt would be classed as violating anything sacred. Halfway along the northern face is a huge, eroded section that is usually called ‘The Brain’.  |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 2:44:02 GMT
Part 8: Further along, there’s a seat to rest in the shade; the walk has become quite an effort now in the heat and the water we’re carrying is going down nicely. This spot doubles as a first aid alert station where you can call for help if distressed. We encountered four of these along the Base Walk, some with water tanks in case your supplies are depleted. We’ve passed the halfway mark by now and the sun is relentless when it finds breaks in the cloud. We passed a giant mound of rock that sits separate to the main structure. This is called Taputji, and sometimes ‘Little Uluṟu’. It represents a Kuniya girl who had been killed for food by the lizard man, her body turning into stone. Being sacred, no photography is allowed here, but the dense trees around it prevent you getting a decent look from the designated pathway. Rounding the eastern-most point known as Kuniya Piṯi we come to another covered seating area with water tank. The path then meanders its way along the south-east flank. Further out into the distance is the site of the original camping ground before it was closed and moved out of the national park. This is where the two-month old baby Azaria Chamberlain was snatched by a dingo (wild dog) in 1980, never to be seen again. Her mother, Lindy, was jailed after being found guilty of murder, only to be released and exonerated two years later. It was a high profile story back then, with most people incorrectly believing the mother had committed the crime. I actually met Lindy Chamberlain six weeks before this trip to Uluṟu and she was a pleasant person despite losing a baby, two years of freedom, and subsequently her marriage. The path winds its way along the southern face which is the most rugged looking portion of the Rock, then brings us to the Muṯitjulu Waterhole. And with that, we’ve arrived back at the Kuniya carpark. Whew! That was an 11km hike in hot weather, taking four hours, including plenty of rest stops. But it was worth it – getting up that close to seeing details is certainly the way we wanted to explore this iconic rock structure. We drove back to Yulara to have a shower and change of clothes before walking to the ‘town square’ for lunch.  Yulara 'Town Square' We chose the Kulaṯa Academy Cafe which trains and employs indigenous people in hospitality jobs. You can tell they’re only learners but it’s nice to put our tourist dollars toward a good cause. We wandered around the small group of shops before returning to our hotel and using the swimming pool. We later sat down in the hotel bar and ordered drinks whilst stretching out in some comfy chairs. But our day had a bit more in store because we had booked the ‘Sounds of Silence’ dinner, and had to be waiting at the hotel reception at 6pm. A coach arrived and we boarded, driving out along a dirt road into what looked like wilderness. Exiting, we followed a path up a small hill to an open area where champagne and canapés were served. A guy was playing a Yidaki (didgeridoo) and he later explained a bit about this instrument and the aboriginal customs.  The resonating low tones of the digeridoo emanated into the outback evening. Ideally, there would be another splendid sunset tonight, but it didn’t really amount to much and Uluṟu never became illuminated at all. The previous evening had been the lucky one.  Never far, Uluṟu reminds us of its presence. |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 3:01:09 GMT
Part 9: The setting sun did prompt the next item on the agenda: dinner.  We were then led to an open-air dining area set on the red soil. Whilst we had travelled via coach, some people arrived via unconventional means...  Complete with white tablecloths, it looked great. We were formally welcomed, then two aboriginal men performed a series of dances for us.  Entree was a pierogi-style pasta parcel in a bowl of broth. For the main course, diners were brought in groups to a buffet area where they filled their plates with chicken, barramundi (fish), lamb, crocodile, kangaroo, quandong, vegetables and salad. Wine and beer were provided by the waiters throughout, and the meal was finished with a return trip to the buffet for desserts and lastly tea/coffee and port. At one stage, the resident astronomer gave us a talk about the night sky, although it was more aimed at those who had no basic understanding of astronomy. There would have been a viewing through his telescope had the sky not been 90% covered in cloud, but I knew that the only planet out that night was Mars which I have viewed a hundred times before in my own telescope. What I was really looking forward to was seeing the Milky Way etched into the blackest sky imaginable, especially when they turned out the lights here. Alas, it was not to be on this cloudy night, although lightning flashing in a wide arc around Uluṟu was pretty awesome. This dinner isn’t cheap but it’s definitely unique, especially if you’re a visitor to Australia. There are other activities (which we didn’t do) when staying here. Examples are: Desert Awakenings (a pre-dawn introduction the colours of the desert as the day starts, followed by an Aussie breakfast); Outback Sky Journeys (an astro tour of the southern sky at night); Tali Wiṟu (a fine dining experience, open air on a dune); Camel rides (as shown above); Helicopter rides and a range of guided tours. After the short ride back to the Resort area in the coach, we returned to our hotel room and considered whether we would set the alarm again for another attempt at seeing a great sunrise. We decided not to, given the need to wake so early and the uncertainty of it matching the first night’s sunset. |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 3:06:39 GMT
Final DayWhen we did wake, it was a clear sky morning that greeted us. The few white clouds would most probably have delivered that elusive, spectacular sunrise we’d been eager to see. Those are the breaks. We took our time and strolled down to the shops again to the Kulaṯa Academy cafe for breakfast which was simple and far cheaper than the elaborate meals being served at the hotels. And their coffee was quite nice. Also nice was the weather - a beautiful warm morning with the promise of being very hot later....  We popped into the supermarket to buy some drinks for later (there’s not much at the airport other than one vending machine and a tiny Kulaṯa cafe). Whilst walking back to our hotel room one of the local lizards (a 12-inch long cane-grass dragon) ran onto the path and being curious, stopped to inspect us.  We then checked out of the hotel, put fuel in the car (expensive at $2.06 per litre from the one and only fuel station) and returned to the airport for our flight home. For lunch, we purchased sandwiches from the cafe there and shortly thereafter we walked across the tarmac and up the steps into the plane. Our travel agent must’ve known something because she booked seats on the right-side of the plane this time so we got another splendid view of Uluṟu and Kata-Tjuṯa from the window seat.  And three hours later we landed, collected our car from airport parking and drove home from a memorable visit to Australia’s Red Centre.
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 3:26:44 GMT
Note: To view these photos in larger size, simply click them, or hold down the Ctrl button whilst moving the thumbwheel on your mouse.  |
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Post by chech on Dec 8, 2014 20:28:03 GMT
Awesome tale! If it's 40 degrees there in November, I guess I'll have to consider September...or I'd be a puddle in the sand! LOL  |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 8, 2014 21:23:20 GMT
Well, temperatures don't always tally with the averages. Late November usually produces highs of about 36C so we were in a warmer week. If you want to avoid 30C+ temperatures you shouldn't go there in the period October to March. And you should especially avoid January when the temperature averages 39C.
I wouldn't personally be fussed about the edge months of October and March because I'm used to 32-34C temps -that's just a warm day - but when you're accustomed to snowy Canada, it could be quite difficult to deal with.
You would probably want to avoid the December-March period anyway for another cause: it's the rainy season. Monsoons attack the top end of Australia and they can definitely make their way south to Uluru. It's also cyclone season, although any of these would turn into tropical depressions by the time they ever got down to Uluru's latitude and the area isn't known for this sort of thing.
September would be a good month to visit, as it should be dry with highs of around 29C.
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Post by chech on Dec 9, 2014 18:35:19 GMT
September it is, then. Maybe this September. |
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Post by 1jhwks on Dec 9, 2014 18:48:50 GMT
Wow, OzT! Bucket list just got longer. Wish there are tours that include that many days at Uluru.  |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 9, 2014 21:18:51 GMT
There are tours that go longer than my brief time there, 1jhwks.
Had we had more time, we would have explored Kings Canyon, Standley Chasm, Simpsons Gap, Ormiston Gorge, Glen Helen and the town of Alice Springs. The problem here is distance - everything is so spread out, it takes hours to drive to these remote places. I couldn't justify spending four hours driving out to see a waterhole and gorge, then another four hours returning - even if the views would have been stunning. There are two solutions to this: either dedicate more time to the destination, or go on a guided tour.
The main tour operator (although not the only one) is AAT Kings. This business traces back to 1912 and was acquired in 1997 by The Travel Corporation (which owns Trafalgar, Insight, Contiki, Evan Evans etc). AAT Kings offers 5 day tours where you get to see most of these sights, but can sit back and read, snooze or whatever during the lengthy drives. They also conduct 11-day and 15-day tours starting from this region and heading north to Darwin. We are seriously considering taking our caravan along this route on a month-long holiday in mid-2015.
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Post by 1jhwks on Dec 9, 2014 23:34:13 GMT
We used to take car trips every year, taking 2 or 3 weeks at a time depending on where we were going. One year, we drove from Kansas to San Francisco/Sacramento area by way of Pacific Northwest. Another year, we went through New England. We have covered all but two states, North Dakota and Hawaii. Have no idea why we missed North Dakota, probably nothing worth stopping for. When we ran out of states, we started going to Europe.
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Post by purvis on Dec 10, 2014 3:48:16 GMT
Note: To view these photos in larger size, simply click them, or hold down the Ctrl button whilst moving the thumbwheel on your mouse. I'm sorry OZ but I can't understand why anyone would travel to see a rock no mater how big it is. I live in Canada where our rocks are called mountains. Purvis |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 10, 2014 4:44:47 GMT
Ah yes, Purvis, but this is quite unlike any mountain in Canada or Australia; it's a monolith. It's similar in status to the Rock of Gibraltar, and quite a few people are attracted to that, even though it lacks the mystical spirituality of Uluru. Perhaps if we relocated another icon there.............? 
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Post by purvis on Dec 10, 2014 9:40:08 GMT
l like the thought of the opera house on top of Ayers Rock. My son just returned from a 3weeks holiday in the Brisbane area and the pictures he sent back to Canada were great. He has Canadian-Australia citizenship which he acquired before returning to Canada after a 4 1/2 yr. stint as a mining engineer for Mount Isa Mining . Purvis
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Post by tiffany on Dec 10, 2014 13:10:54 GMT
I’m looking forward to reading your tale Oz when I have a little bit more time. The pictures look great!
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Post by chech on Dec 10, 2014 13:15:54 GMT
There's more than Ayer's Rock in the area too. The AAT King's tour that TT uses spends 4 nights in the Alice Springs/Ayer's Rock area and the itinerary is full of visits to canyons and other natural sights. It actually spends little time around the monolith. The full day at Ayer's Rock is actually spent at King's Canyon while the night and morning would give us the chance to see the sun against the monolith. We wouldn't get a chance to walk the base unless the flight out is late enough so that we could do it in the morning. |
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 10, 2014 20:49:56 GMT
... We wouldn't get a chance to walk the base unless the flight out is late enough so that we could do it in the morning. Yes, but you don't have to walk the entire 11km circuit of Uluru. If you could spare an hour you could just do one of the shorter (1km) walks. I'd suggest the Mala Walk in this instance. |
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Post by californian on Dec 11, 2014 10:43:09 GMT
I am very sorry I missed my chance to see this area when I had friends working in Alice Springs. Great description and photos, thank you Oz.
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Post by tiffany on Dec 12, 2014 13:01:01 GMT
Sounds like a great trip Oz, and your photos are beautiful! I’d love to go there someday, although I think I’d have a hard time with the +40 weather. Is it a dry heat at least? I can handle a dry heat, but humidity really gets to me!
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Post by Oz-T on Dec 12, 2014 21:21:48 GMT
Yes Tiffany, it was a dry heat. But not in the December-March wet season when it would be humid  |
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Post by Owen on Dec 14, 2014 6:14:11 GMT
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taskaz
Junior Member
Posts: 46 
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Post by taskaz on Dec 14, 2014 7:54:04 GMT
Great tale and great pics as usual. Another one for the bucket list...sigh.
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Post by tiffany on Dec 15, 2014 12:50:39 GMT
Yes Tiffany, it was a dry heat. But not in the December-March wet season when it would be humid Good to know. If I ever do make it there, I’ll be sure not to go during wet season. I just can’t handle humidity. |
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Post by Tonnet on Dec 16, 2014 0:28:12 GMT
Funnily enough, I have been in that area frequently in the Wet Season and in particular January to February. I only ever saw rain on the Rock once.
You don't have to worry about humidity.....there isn't any! Any sweat that you may generate disappears immediately. The hottest day I ever recorded there was 47ºC....very dry heat. It has always been hotter out in the Simpson Desert....best recorded 65ºC (the thermometer blew out the top after that!)  |
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Uluru/Ayers Rock from the plane
