Exploring this magnificent creation and the history of the local Anangu.
Ayers Rock/Uluṟu is perhaps one of Australia’s most iconic landmarks. It has drawn people from all over the world to marvel at it, and it’s easy to see why. Protruding from the landscape, it is wondrous to behold. But how did it get there?
There are different ways to look at the creation of the rock. Science tells us that once, long ago, the area was an inland sea. As the land rose, the sea fell away leaving this section of the landscape reaching up to 863m above sea level. The sandstone rock we see now is what is left after the softer rocks eroded away.
There are many Dreamtime stories and legends around Uluṟu . One tells of a great struggle between two snakes. Whose writhing and fighting carved out the shape of the rock you can see today. Another tells how it rose from the site of a great battle between two tribes. The Earth’s grief pushing it upwards.
Tours around the base run throughout the day and are a great way to hear the telling of these stories. The guides are incredibly experienced and knowledgeable, and are happy to answer questions. Personally, on holidays I prefer to take a time-out from people-ing too much. So, if like me you would rather find things out yourself then check out the Culture Centre. Here the stories of the area are displayed and illustrated on the walls. You can roam around and take your time learning about them. There are also demonstrations and the sharing of knowledge around a campfire with one of the local guides and First Nations peoples. Here you can learn about bush tucker, hunting practices, weaving and carving, painting and storytelling.
Having gone on this adventure following the 2021 Lockdowns, it was interesting to see how the people who lived here had fared being so far away from other towns and cities. The local woman sharing her knowledge told us about how due to lack of resources coming through, many people had reverted to the ‘old ways’ as a means of feeding their families.
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The formation itself is a sight to behold. Looming overhead you can see why people come from far and wide to gaze upon it and journey around it.
The track around the base stretches from about 10km and is flat. There are different starting points around the base allowing people to come from different directions.
Starting at the main carpark I made my way clockwise around the base. I began my walk by visiting the ‘Teaching Cave’. Here you are allowed to walk on the rock and see where children were taught the old ways. The caves are not deep, but the overhanging rocks provide a cool reprieve from the burning sun. Some caves still have the drawings of the Anangu people.
Moving around the left side of Uluṟu , you come to the women’s side of the rock. Here you will find signs asking that you do not photograph it due to the sacred nature of it. The same can be found on the right side/male side of the rock too. Scrubby trees provide little shade along the walk, until you get the the ‘males’ side’ where there is a lot more undergrowth and trees. This is a nice cool section of the walk. Make sure to take plenty of water and time it carefully in the summer so you are not walking in the heat of the day.
As you meander around there are certain places where the story/legend of that specific area can be found on plaques along the fence line. These are interesting and teach you more about the history of the area.
Most tours tend to leave around 3pm, so if you are after a quieter time to sit at the base and take it all in that’s a good time to go. I was lucky enough to have the place to myself for the better part of a half hour.
At about 4.30pm I headed back up the road to the viewing platform and found a spot amongst the other travellers to watch the sunset light up Uluru. Here it’s hard not to meet someone you can have a chat with while you wait. There’s something about a shared experience that brings people together and gives them a common ground on which to swap stories and advice about activities and places they’ve seen. Children run around and play, young ones making ‘dirt-castles’ not bothered by the phenomenon happening around them, but more concerned as to how high and how many sticks they can decorate their castle with. Some people climb onto the roofs of their trucks and campervans for an unspoilt view, while others well-prepared with their camp chairs, chilly bins and cheeseboards are settled in ready and waiting. Wiling the time away with a cold glass of something, good company and a snack.
Then there are those of us who didn’t realise that this was a whole thing. We just happened to be in the right place at the right time. We are the ones standing, without drink in hand wondering if we were the only ones who didn’t get the memo. But, at the end of the day, none of that matters: we’re all there for the same thing.
As the sun goes down on another glorious day in the Outback, Uluṟu puts on a show. The sun reflects of the brilliant red of the rock turning it into a luminous and vibrant orange. Such clear colours are really a sight to behold and in that moment, watching the last of the sun’s rays strike the face of the rock, you can feel the magic of the place take a hold of you. Burning into your memory so that you will always remember it.
Sunrise at Uluṟu is a similar experience.
Getting up in the cold is always hard, even harder in the dark too. Luckily in the winter sunrise isn’t until after 5.30am, so if like me you are not a morning person, it’s somewhat bearable.
I had decided the night before that I would watch the sunrise then head off and hike the Olgas and spend the afternoon relaxing and enjoying the fact that I had ticked off one of my bucket list items over a cold beer. It was a good plan. And then I broke my toe.
Let me preface this with: Kiwis wear jandles everywhere! Steep bushwalk near the coast, jandles. Black sand beach, jandles. Camping, jandles. I had done some stupidly hard walks in them, escaped the fiery hell of Piha sand in them, waded through streams in them, but I never once thought that a garden edging of rocks would be the thing to make me never want to camp in jandles again. That morning as I was walking my toothbrush to the bathroom I walked toe first into said garden border and went, “ouch that hurt!” (Or something close to that.)
As it was still dark, and now my toe was sore I made the decision to leave my jandles on and take my hiking boots with me. It was about 4 degrees and yes, my toes were cold. However, for me this was great as it had a numbing sensation on the ouchy toe. Feeling like a rugged up idiot (who wears warm weather gear and jandles?!) I made my way to the Minymaku lookout to watch the dawn light up Uluru on another beautiful clear winter’s day. And once again, it did not disappoint. The pretty pastel pinks and purples eventually gave way to the clear bright blue of the vast Outback sky.
Hobbling back to the car, it also cast a pretty glow on a very broken looking toe. Not ideal for hiking. But in a solid pair of boots and with a thick pair of hiking socks it was bearable. And after seeing the sunrise, I dare say it was all worth it.
See my post on Kata Tjuta (The Olgas) to see how the rest of the day turned out!
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