More than just a rock
The
barren deserts of Australia's Red Centre are famous for Ayer's Rock,
but there is much more for someone with a sense of adventure and a
little more time.
Every country in the world has its symbols - those
images that come to mind immediately, saying something unique about
their point of origin. For Australia, few images sum up the country
better than that of Ayers Rock, the huge red monolith that sits at
its heart. Each year, almost half a million people make the pilgrimage
across thousands of miles of desert, to watch as the rock changes
from a cool red, to a regal crimson, to a fiery orange in a matter
of seconds, melting over the horizon like an ocean of lava.
But this is not the sole attraction in the Red Centre of Australia;
there are many surprising and delightful landscapes within just a
day’s drive of Uluru National Park (as Ayers Rock is officially
called). Australia’s desert is, in fact, a place of great richness
and diversity of life. Its arid and sunburned exterior shields a delicate
beauty that cannot be recorded or reproduced; it must be experienced.
No photo can capture the way the sweet scent of eucalyptus wafts through
a shady gorge in mid-afternoon. No hotel can match the experience
of a night spent in the bush, sleeping next to the glowing embers
of a campfire. Only when you have seen the Milky Way blossom on a
cool desert night, or woken to see a group of young kangaroos flitting
like ghosts through the morning mist, do you begin to fully appreciate
the splendour of this magical land.
It is not necessary to go walkabout to experience these things. Virtually
all the attractions described below are accessible from well-travelled
highways and can be enjoyed on a brisk morning walk. Just slow down,
take a little time, and the exceptional beauty of the Australian desert
will reveal itself.
Kata Tjuta National Park (also known
as The Olgas)
Just 30 km west of Uluru via a well-travelled highway, Kata Tjuta
is like a collection of mini-Ulurus, a cluster of over 30 rounded
sandstone domes huddled together on the desert floor like a group
of sleeping animals. In terms of sheer monolithic impact, Uluru would
win every time. Nevertheless, the scale of Kata Tjuta is still impressive.
Up close, the red domes have a powerful and imposing presence. The
highest, Mt Olga, rises vertically 546 m above the desert floor, some
208 m higher than Uluru.
Kata
Tjuta (“Many Heads” in the local aboriginal language)
is a place of great spiritual significance to the Anangu people. Each
dome has a story and its own mythical denizens. Mt Olga is said to
be the home of the Wanambi, a snake with long teeth, a flowing mane
and dark beard. When the weather is dry, he stays in the waterhole
at its foot, breathing a constant wind through Olga Gorge.
When walking the 7 km Valley of the Winds trail, or exploring Olga
Gorge, it is not hard to see why the Anangu hold this place so sacred.
The labyrinth of narrow canyons and crevices that lies between the
sandstone domes is a world set apart from the rest of the desert.
The air is cool and heavy, shielded from the blistering heat of the
sun. A persistent wind flows through the gorges, carrying with it
the whisper of ancient voices. You could almost be walking through
the ruins of an ancient city: a metropolis of red rock skyscrapers
built by the gods.
King’s Canyon (Watarrka National Park)
A few hours northeast of Uluru, in the midst of an immense dry void,
a rugged escarpment rises abruptly into the cobalt sky. The rock bears
the scars of millions of years of geological warfare. The relentless
attrition of water, wind and sand, have cut a deep wound through its
heart - a spectacular canyon known to the aboriginal people as Watarrka.
The
canyon is a stark and geometrical place. It is hard to believe that
it was not hewn from the earth’s crust by some master sculptor.
Its polished walls of red rock, rising 300 ft above the desert floor,
are so close to vertical that you could hang a plumb line from the
rim and it would trace their contours all the way to the bottom. Each
precarious ledge and jagged outcrop seems to have been placed with
diabolical intent, luring you ever-closer to the heart-stopping precipices
over which they stand.
The park’s main trail – a four-hour loop that climbs and
descends the canyon walls – is one of the most dramatic in the
country. It will lose you in a labyrinth of eroded domes and gullies,
guide you through the sun-bleached skeletons of white ghost gums,
push you onto the brink of dizzying 300 ft drops and thrust you across
deep chasms on narrow bridges.
If this sounds too off-putting, helicopter rides depart regularly
from the King’s Canyon Resort, giving a unique perspective on
the canyon, and the desert that surrounds it.
The MacDonnell Ranges National Park
On the surface, the MacDonnell Ranges National Park seems harsh and
unyielding. It is a raised scar of hard quartzite that runs for 160
km through the desert, passing through the town of Alice Springs.
Its jagged ridges and sheer cliffs are scoured by the wind and baked
by the sun in turns. The only vegetation is an irregular stubble of
needle-like spinifex grass. The only sound is the clatter of shale
tumbling down from the peaks.
Yet,
hidden within this harsh exterior is another, softer face of the desert.
At each break in the spine of the mountains lies a little oasis, where
each sporadic rainfall is stored during the endless days of blue sky
and burning sun. Moisture loving plants like the MacDonnell Cycad
and the Red River Gum find refuge within the narrow gorges. Amid their
branches flits a colourful and melodic array of desert birds, such
as the rainbow bee-eater, ring-neck parrot and zebra finch. High above,
on the canyon walls, black-footed rock wallabies (a smaller relative
of the kangaroo) leap acrobatically from ledge to ledge and whistling
kites swoop over the ridges.
The gorges also provide a haven for some less exotic forms of life,
namely, the residents of the town of Alice Springs. On a long summer’s
day, when the temperature can soar to over 110°F, the waterholes
of Ormiston Gorge, Serpentine Gorge or Ellery Creek Big Hole are the
perfect places to cool off. You should not leave Australia without
at least once experiencing the way the world just melts away when
the cool waters of a desert waterhole envelop your body.
All of the main attractions of the MacDonnell
Ranges are just a couple of hours drive along the asphalt surface
of the Namatjira Drive. You can rent a car, join a tour, or even walk
for a couple of weeks along the 220 km Larapinta Trail. Whatever method
you choose to explore the park, you will find it a place of subtle,
yet captivating beauty.
Finke Gorge and Palm Valley
Few people make the 137 km journey from Alice Springs to Finke Gorge
National Park. It is accessible by four-wheel-drive only, along a
rough and sandy road that follows the path of the dry Finke Riverbed.
It also has few facilities - a night here is a night spent under the
stars. In short, it is the prefect getaway for those wanting a little
more isolation and adventure.
A
trip into Finke Gorge is a journey back in time. The Finke River itself
is over 100 million years old, one of the oldest on the planet. The
land through which it passes is equally ancient, showing little trace
of the hand of man. A vast expanse of rolling red hills, dotted with
emaciated gum trees and clumps of prickly spinifex, stretches out
to infinity. Great plateaus of rock, each with their own distinctive
form and stature, stand over the valley like sentries, carefully observing
all who pass. As you drive deeper into the gorge, walls of red rock
rise right up from the side of the road, so close that you can almost
reach out of your window and touch their ancient skin.
At the terminus of Finke Gorge is Palm Valley, a narrow canyon that
is home to a unique species. Livistonia mariae, or the Cabbage Palm,
once shared Australia with the dinosaurs, in a time when Central Australia
had a wet tropical climate. Over the last 100 million years or so,
as the country’s climate has become increasingly arid, their
range has declined steadily.
Today,
Palm Valley is their only home. They crowd its interior, their fronds
tenderly caressing the red walls that shelter them from the arid desert.
In turn, the trees provide a haven for some of Australia’s most
timid desert fauna, including many large lizards. The dinosaurs may
have gone, but if you come across an aggressive 6 ft Perentie lizard
on your travels, the impact will be just as startling.
