Northern Territory Odyssey, Part 3: Uluru, the rock of my heart.

I kept pinching myself on the bumpy ride from Alice Springs to Uluru. What had happened that morning seemed almost too good to be true: we got upgraded! No more schlepping with the plebian hordes – the regular tour we had arranged was overbooked and so we were bumped up to the “Safari in Style” instead. Luckiest girls ever! There were only ten of us on the 4wd bus, with an experienced tour guide and even a hostie who was to prepare all our meals.

Most people don’t realize that Uluru (also known as Ayer’s Rock, but the name isn’t so politically correct) is another 500 kilometres from Alice Springs. We left town early and enjoyed a snooze after watching the sun rising over the Outback. We stopped every hour or two to get gas, buy an ice coffee, or ride a camel. Just another day in the Red Centre.

I’d planned to visit Uluru at the end of my trip since it is a place of spiritual significance. My ten-month odyssey through Australia and Asia has been both a physical and metaphysical journey for me. I’ve grown a lot emotionally and spiritually and I thought it would be the perfect place to reflect upon my time.

Uluru didn’t disappoint. This is no mountain: it is one solid rock, a monolith sticking out of the desert like a beacon. When you see Uluru, you have no doubt why people travel to one of the most remote areas of one of the most remote countries on earth to see it. It is a sacred site for the Aboriginal peoples of Australia…and now for me too. We got to see the Rock in its many glories: at sunset (with bubbly and snacks provided courtesy of our Safari in Style), at sunrise, and up close during a four-hour walk around its base.

I had lots of time to reflect during our three days in the heart of the Outback. Our group was mature and relaxed, with early nights and happily silent dinners. After Uluru, we hiked the Olgas and then Kings Canyon…madly drinking water because this place is so dry you can dehydrate while standing still in the shade.
Our adventurous guide couldn’t be bothered to take the highway back to Alice. Instead, we took the shortcut: a 200-kilometre, 4WD-access-only, red dirt road called the Mereenie Track. We bumped speedily along the road but stopped countless times to see amazing things, like a herd of wild camels crossing the track, and wild horses or brumbys ,as the Aussies call them, grazing amongst the spinifex. I serenaded Kelly with my own rendition of a Rolling Stones classic: “Wiiiiild camels couldn’t drag me awaaaay…” Apparently, the early European explorers of the Outback preferred the water-rationing camel to the everyday thirsty horse. When explorers completed their tours, they simply let the camels free in the desert. Today, there are over a million wild camels (probably speaking with Australian accents) grooving in the vastness of the Outback.

At the end of the Mereenie Track, we pulled into oasis-like Glenhelen and caught our transfer back to Alice Springs (a slick Jeep, courtesy of the upgrade). Kelly and I were happy for the hot showers at the hotel in Alice but already we missed the Red Centre, the heart of Australia.

The next day, we boarded the plane and headed back to Melbourne, where it all began for me in Australia. Yes, the end is near. Only one blog left…lots of love to everyone back home.