A painfully early start for us this morning- getting up at 5:40 to meet our 6am pick up. There was however the small consolation that the Northern Territory is half an hour behind Eastern Australian Time, so it didn't feel quite as bad as it could have!
Our small four wheel drive tour bus held 11 passengers (including us), plus Jason our Driver Guide, and Michael, our Aboriginal Guide. We watched the sun rise from ANZAC hill in Alice, while Jason tried to work out what to do about our 11th passenger, who'd not showed up at her pickup point. A trip back to her hostel in town found that she was also a new arrival in Alice, but no-one had told her about that half hour time change!
We drove to Mount Ebeneezer, one of many cattle stations along the otherwise featureless road that has turned itself into an all purpose service-stop: Fuel, campsites, food, a tame dingo to pat and camel rides were available- Jonny took the plunge and had a five minute trot round the paddock. There wasn't time for Hannah to have a go though, as the bus was leaving again- it's a long way from Alice to Uluru!
The landscape en route was not as flat or as barren as either of us had expected, with plenty of Eucalyptus trees and other plants sprinkling the yellowy-red dust with green leaves. However, the closer to Uluru, the flater it became. There was some excitement when a few people got what they thought was their first glance of Uluru. It turned out to be Mount Connor, but that made it no less impressive a sight, the huge rectagle of stone sticking out against the otherwise level surroundings.
Finally at around 2pm we pulled into Yulara, a small settlement made up mostly of a hotel complex and campground, purely there to serve the tourists who come to see the rock. At around 3pm we drove into the National Park that surrounds Uluru, and got our first real sight. It is indeed a darn big rock- like Mount Connor, made all the more astonishing by the absence of any similar features nearby.
It's considered extremely disrespectful to climb Uluru, as it, along with a number of other places in the area, is considered a sacred place in Aboriginal culture, however, we were allowed to walk around it provided we didn't take photographs in a few specific areas.
Michael accompanied us on our walk, and pointed out some of the rock art and physical features of the rock. Up close it's very different to the usual photographs you see, the colours changing from red to pink to yellow, white and even grey. It's also got a number of different types of weathering. Huge undercuts in some places where the wind as blown sand along the walls and worn them down, strange pock marks the size of a car tyre, and even one part where it appears the rock wall has sheared away completely, and is simply leaning against the rest of the structure for support.
In aboriginal culture, some areas are designated for specific uses- one cove was for women to privately give birth in, another was a male-only area for boys to undergo their initiation into manhood, even an area for telling Dreamtime stories. In some cases Michael wasn't allowed to tell us the full background of a place, as it was too private or was an area of "Women's Business" or "Men's Business"- less any form of deliberate sexism than a clearly defined deliniation of roles within Aboriginal society.
Many of the geographical features of the rock have a specific story attatched to them; the sheared rock is a spear leaned against the rock, one of the large undercuts with some extra columns in it shelters four petrified brothers, who are sitting by the rock until they learn the skill of patience.
As sunset drew on, we got back on the 4x4 and headed to a lookout point to watch the sunset over Uluru- and consume a quick bevvy or two.
Vegitarians look away now, as we had camel for dinner- prepared by team effort over an open fire. For those of you who wish to know, it tastes very much like kangaroo... (oh alright then, like a slightly less rich venison).
With dinner over and the beginning to die down, questions started being asked about our camping equipment. It turns out that, even in winter with the temperature rapidly plummetting towards 0 degrees C, Australians don't camp in tents. Instead, they have 'swags'- slightly oversize canvas sacks with a bedroll sewn into them, in which you place your sleeping bag. Your head is left open to the elements, in order to view the astonishing night sky / get bitten by spiders / chewed off by a passing dingo. Mad!
Still, we settled down to it as best we could, wearing as many layers as possible (I wasn't kidding about the night time temperature), and trying to squeeze our Michelin-Man shaped figures into the swags.
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