Day 69: More of Uluru and Kata Tjuta and then back to Curtin Springs (09/08/12)

First thing on the agenda today was to see the sunrise at Uluru. As this event took place at an unseemly early hour, we had to be up before sparrows to take our place in the throng. As Yulara is at least 20 kms from the sunrise-watching spot, it took us quite a while to get there, the more so because traffic was very dense and very slow. I admit to saying unkind words to the little Japanese youngster who stalled his hire car at the entrance to the car park – but I was roundly rebuked by Joke, of course, who hates me mouthing off at other road users.

When all was said and done, and the Australian – Nippon Friendship Treaty was signed again, we walked to the viewing area. There must have been at least 500 people there, all shivering in the cold breeze which blew across the land. 

The dawn crowd

The sunrise, when it came, did not hold a candle to the sunset, in my opinion, but it was a “must do” so we must did it. 

First sun on Uluru

Sun touches the sunward parts of Uluru

It strengthens its hold...

...Until it is no longer a sunrise, but a very cold early morning!!

Kata Tjuta seemed to put on a better show than Uluru,

probably because we were in a better position to see the morning sun light up on it.

The tour bus drivers soon felt their stomachs rumble. So they implemented a very effective procedure to gather their various flocks: they started their bus engines. 

Tour bus drivers conferring before they broke up the sunrise party to cart their loads back to the hotels.

The quiet of an Uluru morning, the birdsong, and the chatter in low tones around us was interrupted by the firing up of about 6 mighty engines. In a twinkling the crowd evaporated as the car crowd followed the bus crowd back to the car parks. As we walked off I glanced over my shoulder and I’m sure I saw Uluru winking as if to say: “Seen that before!”

Breakfast was next, and then we packed up to take the caravan with us to Kata Tjuta, 48 kms away. 

First close-up look as we drove towards Kata Tjuta.

The interesting thing there was that Kata Tjuta, or the Olgas are totally different to Uluru, or Ayers Rock. The Olgas are made up of a conglomerate rock made up of stones up to the size of a football. When you look at the sheer walls it seems as if they have been sliced through like a good Dutch bloedworst, it looks as if the individual stones were sliced as well to produce a smooth surface. Uluru, on the other hand seems to be made up of a rock of layers which peel off to produce a smooth surface.

We went to the Valley of the Winds and then to the Walpa Gorge walk. Very impressive to be among those towering walls indeed. 

Joke doing leg excercises to unstiffen her back in the Valley of the Winds

Looking through to the other side of the Valley of the Winds

This was the peculiar composition of Kata Tjuta's rocks

This was me doing my bit for geological research.

Pit stop between walks

I said: "Don't do it Joke, think of your back! Anyway it's much too heavy." But she would not listen, she had to try and roll this boulder.

Shady and sunlit sides of the Walpa Gorge.

Sunlit and shady sides, with my personal ray of sunshine in the foreground!

The dry desert air kept tickling my nose, and finally I couldn't hold back and let forth a mighty sneeze. As it echoed around the gorge, an enormous curtain of rock just let go and fell into the gully in a jumble. (I'm thinking of applying for a job as apprentice Dreamtime myth-smith!)

Desert flower 1

Desert flower 2

One thing we noted here and had been noting since Alice Springs and that was the number of French speakers among our fellow tourists. In Alice Springs we also noted the presence of many Dutch tourists, easily distinguished by their loud voices in the supermarkets. I don’t mean this in a nasty way, but every time there were loud calls across the aisles Joke and I would look at each other and burst out laughing: Dutchies! But the French were quieter, did not attempt to speak much English and seemed to come in family groups. At Kata Tjuta we did one of the walks in such a group’s vicinity, and as we walked down with Mum and the young boy walking behind us we overheard a most peculiar conversation. “Maman, qui sont ces gens étranges qui marchent devant nous?" "Tais-toi, Jacques, ils sont membres d'une tribu australienne la plus ancienne qui se disent les Nomades Gris."

Indeed ! Much amused we went back to our car and made our way past Uluru and Yulara to Curtin Springs. In honour of our last night in the NT we had a meal at the restaurant there. On the menu were various cuts of beef straight from their own farm. So my steak, so to speak, was still standing and mooing in the distance when we were there 2 nights before, and now it was on my plate.

Joke had a most strange encounter. At the loos, a lady said to her: “Are you Luuk’s mother?” It turned out to be Anne, Claire’s aunt, who was there with Russell, her husband, on their way to Uluru. 

Joke, Russell and Anne at Curtin Springs

They had been on the road for about as long as we had, and still had some time to go. They came over and we pulled out some chairs and had a good old chat. It turned out that they had been to Aileron too, and had been impressed with namesake Russell there.