10-15 October: Alice Springs
As our train, the Ghan, arrived in Alice Springs, we were greeted by abandoned car wrecks and rubbish. We quickly found a shuttle that could take us to our hostel, the YHA. Here, we shared a four-man room with a very well-mannered Japanese fellow (when was the last time you left a room while ensuring you were facing its inhabitants until you had closed the door?). The rest of the day was spent exploring the town, verifying our tour booking at the Rock Bar, visiting ANZAC Hill and having dinner at the Overlanders Steakhouse. This very nice and gloomy restaurant was stuffed with old saddles, hides, pictures and the like, conveying an outbackish atmosphere. After asking where we were from they planted a Norwegian flag on our table. Looking around, we could see several, apparently, different nationalities in the room. Katrine had the chicken mignon and I the kangaroo fillet with plum sauce. Win.
The next morning at 6 am our Rock Tour guide Scott picked us up at the YHA. The Rock Tour is one of the many tour companies that takes you to one or more of the magnificent sights in the middle of the Australian dessert. This particular tour took three days and included Uluru (Ayer’s Rock), Kata Tjuta (the Olga’s) and Kings Canyon.
We travelled by bus with supplies and swags (a heavy-duty water-proofed canvas sleeping bag with mattress) on a little carriage. The first stretch of the journey took about 6 hours. We made a few stops to buy petrol, beer and snacks and at some point also to collect firewood for the evening campfire. For everyone who wanted to play the bug game Scott drew some circles on the windscreen. You had to chip in a dollar and he’d write your initials under one of the circles. I had only 70 cents and got a slightly smaller circle… Besides listening to music, we had to go to the front of the bus and tell the rest of the people (we were 21 all included) a little bit about yourself, and, to top it all off, an embarrassing story. On the last day of the trip I was told that my story was one of the best. In light of potential young readers however, I will not repeat it here! Finally, we stopped at Ayer’s Rock resort to drop of the swags and firewood and drove to the Uluru visitor’s centre. The underlined consonant in e.g. Uluru and Kata Tjuta denotes, Scott told me, word stress. After a bit of research though, I found out that it’s also to do with a consonant being retroflex (pronounced with the tongue curled backwards), so that Uluru is pronounced (according to the local Pitjantjatjara language) [uluˈɻu] and Kata Tjuta [kata ʧuˈta]. Anyway, Katrine and I found the centre very interesting and would have liked to have more time there. Before leaving, we bought a lizard carved from red gum tree wood which now proudly sits on a cabinet at home and is called Tinka (the type of lizard it’s supposed to represent).
Before going to the rock, our guide told us a little bit about the climbing situation there. There is a chain that goes all the way to the top of Uluru, and it is permissible to climb it. However, the Anangu people ask everyone to respect their sacred place and not climb on it. Aboriginal people only climb it on one special occasion: when, after his walkabout, an aboriginal boy turns into a man. Regardless (of course), many tourists climb anyway. They also sometimes tumble off due to dehydration, heart attacks or bad luck (at least 35 deaths so far, and after each case the Anangu women stand around Uluru for a whole day and cry) and defecate when on top, poisoning the waterholes surrounding the rock. In 1983, the then Prime Minister promised to hand back the land title to the Anangu traditional owners (including forbidding the climbing of Uluru), but 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 Anangu (Wikipedia). There is also a council of 12 (6 of which are aboriginals) who each year vote on whether or not to close climbing for the public. Every year only one votes against – the Minister for Tourism (or so Scott told us). Very sad business.
Once at Uluru itself we quickly started walking. Scott told us we should be able to walk around it in an hour and a half, which means we felt a bit rushed as we had no idea how long the walk would be (about 6 km). We also needed to bring 3l of water each. Unfortunately, we had misunderstood the Rock Tour website. We thought we would be doing a lot more walking and had to pack everything we were going to need in a backpack and bring with us all the time. It turns out we could just leave everything in the bus whenever we went somewhere. As we didn’t have a small extra pack we had to carry one bottle in each hand. The other days were far cooler, so Katrine only brought one while I managed to stuff them both in my trouser pockets.
Skirting the rock, we learned how it is a very sacred place for their women. As such it is not allowed to take pictures of some of the sites. This is because the images might be published somewhere and Anangu men might see them. Several decades ago this resulted in some men insisting on being punished for this; the punishment being a spear stab in the thigh. The stabber then nurses the ‘stabbee’ back to health, ensuring no hard feelings. Although Uluru was much smaller than we thought it would be, it was a beautiful and very interesting walk.
When we got to the parking lot there was cake and biscuits all round, silly colourful pigeons to laugh at, a visit to the restroom and a small walk to a waterhole and (if we didn’t have to run to the toilet again (3l of water, you know!)) cave paintings. So yeah, we missed those… We drove a little and from there admired the sunset over Uluru, drank beer, had dinner and, back at the resort, slept around the campfire in our swags. We slept quite alright in spite of a small drizzle of rain.
The second day of the tour (this does drag on, does it not?) we were awoken at 4:45 to quickly drive to a vantage point where we could watch the sunrise over Uluru and Kata Tjuta. At this point, after being awoken at an ungodly hour, no access to a bathroom OR breakfast yet, being dependable on other people and having two more days of this until we were on our own again I must admit, I was thinking ‘why am I here again?’. This was luckily quickly forgotten, and the rest of the day turned out being one of best of the whole trip! We had a quick breakfast consisting of weat-bix (Australia’s take on Weetabix), oatmeal porridge, canned fruit, toast, coffee and tea, and then drove to Kata Tjuta.
Kata Tjuta was gorgeous! We walked a 7 km walk through a collection of enormous rocks and small mountains with a lot of lush vegetation in between. Katrine and I both found this the best part of the tour. Unlike Uluru, this is a holy place for men. Using sand, gravel and pebbles, Scott explained the formation of Uluru and Kata Tjuta (remnants of an enormous mountain range from billions of years ago), showed us how the indigenous tribes used ochre to paint their bodies, and where hunters sharpened their spears on the rock. After this fantastic scenery we drove to Kings Crest Resort, collecting firewood again en route.
For dinner we had chilli con kangaroo along with a type of bread which Scott made from flower, water, canned fruit and M&Ms cooked in a cast iron pot put in the hot coals of the fire. At this point I found out that one of our fellow trekkers had studied linguistics at the uni in York like me, and even had the same professors! Coincidence? I think so, yes. That night the stars were out which made sleeping in a swag under the night sky even more enjoyable.
The next morning we were awoken by the cries of a retarded owl and left for Kings Canyon. We were told how hard the climb to the top would be, but, freakishly athletic as Katrine and I are, we found it no worse than Bergen’s Stoltzen. The terrain was great, all the more so because of the sheer drops all around us. Fun fact: America’s Grand Canyon should properly be called ‘the Grand Gorge’, which of course doesn’t sound all that grand. The thing is, a canyon is formed by a crack in the rocks which widens over time due to erosion (like Kings Canyon). A gorge on the other hand, is formed by a stream or river eroding the rock (Grand Canyon). ‘Course, the fellow naming it the Grand Canyon didn’t know this…
Again, we learned all sorts of interesting things from our guide. Aboriginal spears were for example made from the aptly named ‘spear tree’. The makers would cut a branch to the proper length and, holding it over a fire, pulled it straight. Once the wood cooled, it stayed straight. The tip was made from red gum tree which is slightly poisonous (more so to kangaroos). This was fastened with kangaroo tendon and glue. When successfully thrown at a ‘roo the tip would break off, poisoning the animal. If hunting was slow, they would sometimes put rock mint in a puddle of water, which would make kangaroos drowsy, making them an easier target. Although, being proud people, the aboriginals tried to avoid this tactic. Also, I was interested to learn, the well-known boomerang shape known to everyone was only really used in Kakadu (the area around Darwin in the north of the continent) as the people there hunted over water – they needed their weapons to return to them. In the rest of Oz the boomerangs were more or less shaped like a number 7. They were not designed to return to the thrower and were meant to break the bones of kangaroos. By the way, we swam in the Garden of Eden in the middle of the desert (well, Kings Canyon). The most refreshing swim of my life!
After our walk around Kings Canyon we drove back to Alice Springs, stopping for lunch somewhere. At this place there was the largest swarm of flies I have ever seen. There were flies everywhere! We had to quickly make lunch and then run around, all the time waving a hand around our food. We didn’t stay long. But we made another stop at a camel farm! Katrine and I rode one together. It is a remarkable thing to sit on a camel (strictly a dromedary, i.e. one hump) when it rises from the ground. Its legs seem to fold out in an infinite number of … folds. Its fur is coarse but at the same time quite soft to the touch. It doesn’t smell (no really) and it has this wonderfully sarcastic look of disdain on its face with a lopsided sort of sneer. I couldn’t resist waving my hat with one arm while it went into a little trot. In short: I want one. I’m sure it would make my everyday walk from Sandviken to the uni all the more enjoyable.
Once back at the YHA in Alice Springs we got a bed in a room with 14 other people. But we could take a shower! And at the YHA they have posters in the bathrooms that promote showering together to save water, so we did our part for the environment. After that it was off to the Rock Bar to meet everyone for dinner and drinks. I had a magnificent plate of nachos and still dream about them. Unfortunately, we were all quite tired, but we still had a great time. We got Scott’s number so we could meet up the next day. Alas, I didn’t know at the time that you have to drop the initial 0 when entering the country code, so we never met up (so if you read this, Scott…) The next and final day in Alice Springs was spent doing laundry, packing and having (hot!) Thai food for dinner. Noon the following day: Melbourne!
Stay tuned for the third and final part…
