The Magnificent Monolith

October 28

More flat red earth, dotted with desert oaks and spinifex to drive through. Every kilometre was different and every one was worth stopping to admire. The colours were dazzling.



We paid our entry into the National Park, booked into the one and only caravan park and set off to see the Olgas, now more often called Kata Tjuta. These massive chunks are conglomerate, unlike Uluru which is a particular form of ancient granite called arkose. We stopped first at a viewing area looking across towards the jumble of rocks, through groves of desert oaks. Except for these designated viewing spots, there's no opportunity to pull off the road and there are signs specifically forbidding this just in case you might try.



I liked the way that the grid to protect the dunes you cross on foot was painted to match the landscape.



And the pattern made by wind pushing sand up against the grid.



A crested pigeon eyed me hopefully as I took the obligatory photos.



Further on, we followed a short track that led into one of the gorges between the rocks.





There was still a trickle of water across the track at one point in spite of months of drought.



The curves of the rock are so voluptuous, we were not surprised to read that this was a place in aboriginal lore for "secret men's business"



Returning the 40 or so kms to Uluru, we followed the road around its base. Photos cannot capture how vast this monolith is as it towers above the plain. Naturally that doesn't stop any of us, including me, from taking our own snapshots, which look like everyone's else's snapshots, and not as good as those of the professionals.




If this was a Facebook page rather than a blog I would here insert a picture of me jumping in the air in front of Uluru. Instead I focused on some birds (kingfishers?) near a waterhole,



a lone climber (most people respect the traditional owners' request that you not climb the rock),



and some of the curves and folds in the huge monolith.







The moon and a cork tree against the flank of the rock also appealed to me.



Along with many others we returned at dusk to watch the changing colour as the sun went down.

The Magnificent Monolith

October 28

More flat red earth, dotted with desert oaks and spinifex to drive through. Every kilometre was different and every one was worth stopping to admire. The colours were dazzling.



We paid our entry into the National Park, booked into the one and only caravan park and set off to see the Olgas, now more often called Kata Tjuta. These massive chunks are conglomerate, unlike Uluru which is a particular form of ancient granite called arkose. We stopped first at a viewing area looking across towards the jumble of rocks, through groves of desert oaks. Except for these designated viewing spots, there's no opportunity to pull off the road and there are signs specifically forbidding this just in case you might try.



I liked the way that the grid to protect the dunes you cross on foot was painted to match the landscape.



And the pattern made by wind pushing sand up against the grid.



A crested pigeon eyed me hopefully as I took the obligatory photos.



Further on, we followed a short track that led into one of the gorges between the rocks.





There was still a trickle of water across the track at one point in spite of months of drought.



The curves of the rock are so voluptuous, we were not surprised to read that this was a place in aboriginal lore for "secret men's business"



Returning the 40 or so kms to Uluru, we followed the road around its base. Photos cannot capture how vast this monolith is as it towers above the plain. Naturally that doesn't stop any of us, including me, from taking our own snapshots, which look like everyone's else's snapshots, and not as good as those of the professionals.




If this was a Facebook page rather than a blog I would here insert a picture of me jumping in the air in front of Uluru. Instead I focused on some birds (kingfishers?) near a waterhole,



a lone climber (most people respect the traditional owners' request that you not climb the rock),



and some of the curves and folds in the huge monolith.







The moon and a cork tree against the flank of the rock also appealed to me.



Along with many others we returned at dusk to watch the changing colour as the sun went down.

The Road to Uluru

October 27

We had a long drive to reach Curtin Springs Station, our destination for the night, just outside the huge National Park that surrounds Uluru.

We drove under dazzling blue sky, through flat land stretching away in all directions, sometimes coated with bleached yellow grasses, sometimes dotted with fan-shaped mulga trees. From time to time we saw the columnar shapes of desert oaks, like an outback version of Mediterranean cypresses. The earth varied between deep, rich terracotta, screaming orange, and pale salmon pink. After a while you simply stopped taking photographs and tried to absorb it all.





Just before the right turn onto the Lasseter Highway to head directly west, we passed Stuarts Well, and were tempted to check out the dingo.



Another time, maybe.

There was the usual kangaroo roadkill on the verges, and at one point we came upon some wedge-tailed eagles gorging themselves. They moved away a little, but only one bothered to take flight as we passed. Ho-hum, just another bunch of tourists!



Curtin Springs was about as stark a little roadhouse as any we'd come to so far. Unpowered sites were free, and also offered a minuscule amount of shade.



The toilet block was corrugated metal, spelling and grammar optional.



Showers were $2.50.



Just as shabby - maybe even more so - as the roadhouse at Ti-Tree, this one also had its annoying resident bird. Here it was an emu



that had pretensions to being an art critic.

The Road to Uluru

October 27

We had a long drive to reach Curtin Springs Station, our destination for the night, just outside the huge National Park that surrounds Uluru.

We drove under dazzling blue sky, through flat land stretching away in all directions, sometimes coated with bleached yellow grasses, sometimes dotted with fan-shaped mulga trees. From time to time we saw the columnar shapes of desert oaks, like an outback version of Mediterranean cypresses. The earth varied between deep, rich terracotta, screaming orange, and pale salmon pink. After a while you simply stopped taking photographs and tried to absorb it all.





Just before the right turn onto the Lasseter Highway to head directly west, we passed Stuarts Well, and were tempted to check out the dingo.



Another time, maybe.

There was the usual kangaroo roadkill on the verges, and at one point we came upon some wedge-tailed eagles gorging themselves. They moved away a little, but only one bothered to take flight as we passed. Ho-hum, just another bunch of tourists!



Curtin Springs was about as stark a little roadhouse as any we'd come to so far. Unpowered sites were free, and also offered a minuscule amount of shade.



The toilet block was corrugated metal, spelling and grammar optional.



Showers were $2.50.



Just as shabby - maybe even more so - as the roadhouse at Ti-Tree, this one also had its annoying resident bird. Here it was an emu



that had pretensions to being an art critic.