Red Centre in a Roomy Country

Three flights and two shuttles later in the same day we were in Alice Springs. We are embarking on a toe-dipper of a trip to the red centre of a very roomy country.

 My ankle is not up to much walking so we took a taxi from our hotel to the Alice Springs Telegraph Office where a ‘Mcleods Daughter’ look-alike showed us the original Alice Spring. A bit of a misnomer as it was a temporary waterhole and not a spring at all that was named after the original surveyor’s wife. We walked back to town along an excellent cycleway, stopping to return the stares of a couple of ‘roos, (slipping into local lingo here). The nearby sign warning us about dingos being active was a little disconcerting but we pressed on and found the only decent coffee house in town.

Our campervan for this 3 week trip is not nearly as well appointed as our Chausson. I can’t get into the fridge without standing on my head, space being so tight. Never mind, it has its own bathroom if you can fit into it.

The West Macdonnell ranges deserved some attention and we camped at National Park camps. The gorges didn’t exactly flow with water but there were waterholes and the ghost gums overhanging them gave them their iconic Aussie scenery stamp along with the big blue skies and red rocky backdrop. Our fellow campers were very friendly even though we were emblazoned with a Maui logo. Spinifex pigeons darted underneath our feet pecking at the crumbs from our hors d’doeuvres.

We took a trip to “Glen Helen” resort  to look at another gorge but the prospect of having to swim the icy waters to get to the beauty spot stopped that idea in its tracks. Glen Helen Resort looked as if it had enjoyed a previous life as a POW camp.

We called back at Alice on our way to Uluru. A mere 440 km away. We restocked the larder and showed ID at the wine shop, passing the friendly policeman on door duty as we clinked our way back to the van with lovely Aussie Shirazs stashed in our bags.

A bit of a drive but we were rewarded with the sight of a purple monolith rising from the plains in the setting sun. We stopped to take photos whilst enduring a fly-fight. The flies were winning, Stuart was doubled over after swallowing one. They were on my glasses and trying to crawl in our ears.  Retreat back to the van and back up the road to a campsite we passed 5km ago.  No flies! Phew! We researched our guidebook for the next day and discovered the fly battle had been fought while we photographed “Fool-uru”. It was Mt Connor doing a passable imitation of Uluru that was the battle-site.

Uluru itself was just like  the pictures and postcards. Close up it was quite magnificent and there was a serenity about it that the Aborigines must treasure also. There was no rubble around the base, just a sheer pitted rock rising from the graceful gums and greenery that surround it.

The scenery along the roads is ever changing but there is a consistent theme of trees and vegetation specially adapted to life in a dry climate. We traveled through stands of Mulga and desert oaks as well as past wild flowers blooming in swathes amongst the spinifex.

The Olgas (Kata Tjata) are red rounded rock monoliths standing shoulder to shoulder about 50km from Uluru. After an unexpected (for me) tramp around their perimeter we headed 300km to Kings Canyon where another tramp was planned. It was my turn to drive and I took care to return the waves from fellow campers as I drove, these varied from sublime one finger lifts to something that looked like ‘Heil Hitler’.

We stayed at Kings Canyon resort paying $40 to park on an unpowered site surrounded by moon dust, but there is no overnighting in the National Park. The entrance to the shower block has strong high wooden gates and although we didn’t see dingos we saw their calling cards the next morning. I had a shower during daylight hours just to be certain!

The trek around Kings Canyon was a lovely trip and not difficult when fortified with Voltaren, glad I did it. Back in the van with Stuart fussing about solar charging, waste disposal … some things don’t change …. and on our way back through Alice up to Tennant Creek. Timing is crucial though, the wine shops don’t open until 2pm and beer is ‘too expensive”.