Unternehmen Datumsgrenze: Magic in the Red Centre

Perhaps in honor of the visitors from the Netherlands, this March in Sydney was the rainiest one in decades. I did not mind too much: I was busy with my work and the MuST conference, and on the weekend where I explored the Eastern beaches and the Ku-Rin-Gai Chase/Brisbane Waters NPs, weather was gorgeous. However, at some point its starts to get on your nerves. So I was happy that I could escape the pouring rain by a four-day camping safari in the Red Centre, which I had booked long in advance. 35+ degrees and blue skies were waiting for me.

As I may have mentioned earlier, my parents were touring Australia in the same period when I was in Sydney. They visited me there twice and we also made sure to be on the same trip to Uluru (=Ayers Rock), Kata Tjuta (=The Olgas), King’s Canyon, and so on.

Two times Uluru.

Valley of the Winds, Kata Tjuta.

Uluru just after sunrise, this time with (some people from) the group. My parents at the right hand side.

I won’t bore you with a detailed description of what we did when, but rather describe the general feeling I got. Two things stand out. First, landscapes are vast. Australia is a huge country, and even in a small corner in the center, we did roughly 1,300 km in four days. (Some groups, who did not have a 4x4-vehicle and could not take shortcuts via dirt tracks, did even more in three days.) Second, landscapes are magical. Bizzare, overwhelming rock formations in the middle of nowhere. (To the above, you can add Mt Connor and Haast’s Bluff, a huge meteorite crater.) Or a sudden richness of vegetation close to a river of waterhole in an unwelcoming desert landscape. It is hard to stay unmoved and not to get connected to the spirit of the place. You get an idea why they are sacred for the Aborigines who once lived there.

(Sad thought: Aborigines have been living their traditional lives in that region for ten thousands of years. It took European settlers only about 100 years to cut this tradition, by outright expropriation, but also by extensive livestock farming, degrading the soil, importing animals, interrupting food chains...)

Actually, the desert was not so deserty because there had been lots of rain in the months before. To the point that tours had to be cancelled because roads were no more passable. You often get this in the tropical North, where (southern) summer is the rainy season, but not so far south. For us, it was lucky, of course, because the intense red of the rock and the soil contrasted beautifully with the green grass.

Everything we did was worthwhile. The only incident was a mice attack which haunted most tents in the last night and disturbed the sleep of a great number of people. I did not notice anything, but that was perhaps because I have an indifferent attitude towards these animals.

If I have to name a favorite, it would be the walk in King’s Canyon. We got up in the morning hours (4:30!) in order to start the walk at dawn’s light and to finish it while temperatures were still bearable. Landscapes are remiscient of the grand American national parks in the Southwest (Arches NP and Zion NP in particular), but some things are special. In the middle of the walk, you can descend into a shadowy river gorge full of water, grass and trees. It is called the Garden of Eden, and for good reasons. Sunlight does not reach here, at least not in the morning hours. When few people are around, a magical silence calms down all thoughts of mundane affairs. You are left to yourself and the elements: the scorched soil from which green trees emerge, the dark, impenetrable water which searches its way between them, the crispy air beneath the blue skies and the fire of the Sun which lights up the red rocks up on the rim. It is a place where you only want to stay. But alas, you have to move on eventually. I finish with some pictures from that walk.