Australia day 11

7 July

Time to say goodbye to Alice Springs. We turned in our gate key at the registration office, took a few photos of ourselves looking like a MacDonnell Ranges Sheila and Bloke (there is a sign at the entrance you can stand behind with a cut out that you can insert your face into to look like the character mentioned), then we drove off for Uluru/Ayer's Rock. After yesterday's "short" 200 km side trip, the road to Uluru was going to be a long one.

It took us about 2 hours to reach Erldunda. (I could never pronounce this place name without sounding it out slowly – too many d's.) We stopped for petrol here. For the next several days this will be our new "dictum of the desert": Never pass a petrol station without topping up the tank. From this turnoff we had 160 km to go to get to Curtin Springs, where there is a caravan park we thought we'd shelter in for the night, after visiting Uluru.

It's interesting driving these long stretches of highway to a World Heritage Site. Almost everyone else we encountered was traveling in a recreational vehicle, like we were. The different kinds we saw advertised when we planned this trip were all represented on this highway. At times the edges of the road were ragged and encountering another wide recreational vehicle was a bit un-nerving. At other times there were no other vehicles in sight from horizon to horizon.

I noticed a lot of small round yellow melons beside the road. We have them in Israel. I very carefully sampled the tiniest fleck of the flesh of one of these and found it to be extremely bitter, as I had expected. Further along there were some that were larger, green with pale dappled spots, and rugby-ball shaped. I collected two of these to learn about later.

When we reached Curtin Springs we found a lot of other like-minded people. There was plenty of room to accommodate all the caravans that might show up, but only nine powered sites, and none of these were available. The prices were outrageously high, but Razelle had her heart set on having some amenities so we paid for a budget room (shared facilities outside the room).

The rest of the way to Ayer's rock Razelle sensed that I was holding onto some bottled up thoughts. I finally vented them. I asked her what we were paying for that we didn't already have with this caravan? We had the luxury of free accommodations at that location and we were spending a large sum for no purpose. That's not how she saw it and we had a great difference of opinion that colored the rest of the day.

We passed the Yulara Resort just before the entrance without stopping. I wanted to get us into the park in a timely manner in case something was starting that we didn't want to miss. At the entrance we learned that it cost 25 dollars a piece to get in, but the entrance ticket was good for unlimited re-entry for the next 3 days. We'd come this far; we weren't going to argue about the price. Both these factors (the room waiting for us 100 km back and a 3-day park entry ticket) came into play when we rethought our immediate plans.

I found a parking spot for our caravan, gave Razelle our entrance tickets to keep safe in her backpack and then went with her to the Cultural Centre to see its displays. I myself didn't go in, but I thought I saw Razelle do so. Instead I went to the Administration Building to find out where the nearest location was for buying petrol. We may have been able to make it all the way back to Curtin Springs, but what if we set out from the park too late to find anything open? Sunset at Uluru is the most important time to see its features. There is a special viewing area just for this purpose. I couldn't enjoy this if I didn't have the security of a topped up tank.

I was told that the nearest petrol station was at the resort just outside the park entrance. I couldn't leave the park and re-enter without my ticket, which Razelle had in her backpack, and when I searched for her in every room at the Cultural Centre (the supermarket story all over again) she was nowhere to be found! After three passes I widened the search and finally found her outside, scanning the parking lot watching for me, rather than inside and experiencing live demonstrations of indigenous culture presented by the indigenous people themselves.

My state of mind was not the best by this point. I got my ticket from Razelle, left the park, bought petrol and returned with the topped up tank. By then, the demonstrations were over, the smokey didgeridoo-shaping fire was now a smoldering ash pit, the spear and boomerang shaping area was now a pile of wood shavings, the native art corner was now a few spots of spilled paint. The indigenous demonstrators I'd glanced at while searching for Razelle earlier had gone. But at least Razelle got to see it, and I saw something of it in passing while searching for her. My tank was topped up, and that was what was important.

We now drove to the monolith. Uluru/Ayer's rock is a lump of rock rising out of a broad flat region of Australia called the Red Centre. With a keen eye you can see that Uluru is upended so that its layers, created horizontally once upon a time, are now vertical.

Razelle and I parked in a car park at the base of this rock, where people can climb up it while holding onto a hand rail. We took pictures of each other (and of our stuffed toy monkey). Then, intrigued by the beauty of the juxtaposition of rock and foliage and with Razelle's blessing, I wandered off along a trail that follows Uluru's base, taking photograph after photograph during the last of the daylight and as the sun set.

Again I was at one with nature and my camera was an extension of my sense of sight. I was transfixed by the moment as Uluru glowed redder with each passing moment as the sun descended toward the horizon.


I returned to Razelle after being gone the better part of an hour to find her once again in tears because I had not left her the keys and she couldn't get into the caravan. We've got to come up with a modus operandus to keep this sort of thing from happening again and again.

In the dark, now, we drove out of the park, past the resort (I don't know if the petrol station was still open or not by this hour) and along the 100 km of empty highway back to our room at Curtin Springs. Before we climbed out of the caravan we cooked a meal. Razelle made scrambled eggs and mushrooms for herself; I made rice and tuna in cream of mushroom sauce. We'd had a long day. We left cleaning up the cookery for the morning.