Want to REALLY feel like you're away from home? How about riding across red sand dunes on a camel to see the sun set over Uluru (Ayers Rock)? Not something I can replicate in my zip code.
Camels were imported to Australia about 150 years ago or so, as the only reliable means to transport goods and people across the vast expanses of desert. When roads and rail connected the northern and southern parts of the continent, the camels lost their jobs and most were released into the wild. Though not native to Australia, they were built for the rugged, arid terrain, and thrived. Now there are an estimated 1 million feral camels in the Australian Outback.
The ones we rode have been domesticated/trained to give rides to tourists like me who seek a "Lawrence of Arabia meets Crocodile Dundee" two hour adventure. And riding a camel is pretty pleasurable. I was surprised at the smooth ride, and the personality of the animals. Two cautionary notes, though, for anyone who wishes to follow in my camel tracks. First, contrary to popular perception, annoyed camels do not actually spit on you to show their displeasure. Rather, according to Rowan, our camel handler, they will full out vomit on you if perturbed with your behavior. So, if you want to avoid a Lady Macbeth-like 2-hour shower following your camel ride, endeavor to keep your camel engaged, comfortable, and happy. Second, when the camel handler instructs you to "lean back" when the camel kneels for your dismount, do so; otherwise, your penance for not listening will be abrasions in a very private area, as experienced by my camel riding partner.
Otherwise, it's a lot of fun, and you'll know you're far from home.
As for Uluru, this is my first trip here. Cynical me, I’ve passed over this famous spot on prior trips to Australia because I’ve had doubts about whether I’m the kind of guy who’d appreciate it enough for a visit. Of course, I’ve heard it’s stunning, that just looking at it as the light changes moment to moment is captivating, that for some it’s a deeply spiritual experience, and that Meryl Streep lost her movie baby to a Dingo here, but I also know that it’s the most visited landmark in Australia (not a good thing generally), to the point where prior visitors and guidebooks offer coaching on how to avoid busloads of tourists, that it can be really hot here in the summertime, and that, well…it’s a big rock.
After a couple days of exploring, though, I have to admit it is pretty amazing. Uluru is, in fact, a large rock – about 1000 feet high, with the vast majority of its bulk actually submerged underground – not a mountain. The surrounding terrain is fairly flat, with undulating red sand dunes and desert scrub (the color of the earth seems Mars-like). The unexpected, out-of-place appearance of this massive monolith is one of the more dramatic curves I’ve ever seen thrown by nature ( a bit like Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, though on a much grander scale). Uluru really does take your breath away – even for a cynic like me.
Two things that I didn’t expect but that enhanced the experience:
1. The closer you get to Uluru, the more you can see that weather and time have done a number on its face, creating loads of caves and gullies. It’s aged well – the lunar appearance just adds to the awe and mystery. This is particularly true on the side of Uluru that you aren’t supposed to photograph (it’s sacred to the local aboriginal community), with massive checkerboard patterns in the rock, huge overhangs, and craters. If you visit, make sure to drive or hike all the way around the rock. This is probably as close as you’ll come to feeling like you’ve made a lunar landing here on Earth.
2. Speaking of the aborigines, the Australian Park Service does a great job of integrating the spiritual, sacred significance that Uluru holds for the local Anangu people into the experience here – and it’s done in an intelligent, unobtrusive way. It’s also pretty amazing to take a 2 hour hike along the base of the Rock and come upon cave art that’s thousands of years old (there’s tons of this sort of thing here, which as a Discovery Channel fan and a long time subscriber to National Geographic, I love).
If climbing the rock holds appeal, you can do it, but the Anangu view it as akin to defiling their shrine – sort of a no-no if you have any respect for the locals – and, frankly, people die trying to do it on a fairly regular basis – it’s steep and slippery. Even the locals say it’s the hardest thing they’ve ever done. Finally, the Park won’t let you do it when it’s above 36 degrees Celsius - fairly common here in the summertime – which was my out.
As for the potential downsides (see crowds, heat, above) it’s still Australia, where the most visited place will feel blissfully serene by American standards. Granted, summer is their slow time and I did most of my touring in the afternoon – when those in the know said any large tour groups hovering in the area are typically at Kata Tjuta, another big, otherworldly, rocky local attraction – but it felt like I almost had the place to myself. On the aforementioned hike - to the base of the rock, past great aboriginal cave art en route to the only permanent waterhole at Uluru – I saw just two other people walking (and they were together). No lines, no crowds. Even the ranger at the park entrance was chatty – I think she may have been a little lonely…
It is hot – I’m here in the antipodean summer - but it’s like a hot day in Vegas or Phoenix. Bring water (lots of it), wear a hat, and you’ll be fine. Focus on the clear, deep blue sky and you’ll forget the heat (and the desert flies, which I think complete some sort of assertiveness training before being released into the wild here).
Camels were imported to Australia about 150 years ago or so, as the only reliable means to transport goods and people across the vast expanses of desert. When roads and rail connected the northern and southern parts of the continent, the camels lost their jobs and most were released into the wild. Though not native to Australia, they were built for the rugged, arid terrain, and thrived. Now there are an estimated 1 million feral camels in the Australian Outback.
The ones we rode have been domesticated/trained to give rides to tourists like me who seek a "Lawrence of Arabia meets Crocodile Dundee" two hour adventure. And riding a camel is pretty pleasurable. I was surprised at the smooth ride, and the personality of the animals. Two cautionary notes, though, for anyone who wishes to follow in my camel tracks. First, contrary to popular perception, annoyed camels do not actually spit on you to show their displeasure. Rather, according to Rowan, our camel handler, they will full out vomit on you if perturbed with your behavior. So, if you want to avoid a Lady Macbeth-like 2-hour shower following your camel ride, endeavor to keep your camel engaged, comfortable, and happy. Second, when the camel handler instructs you to "lean back" when the camel kneels for your dismount, do so; otherwise, your penance for not listening will be abrasions in a very private area, as experienced by my camel riding partner.
Otherwise, it's a lot of fun, and you'll know you're far from home.
As for Uluru, this is my first trip here. Cynical me, I’ve passed over this famous spot on prior trips to Australia because I’ve had doubts about whether I’m the kind of guy who’d appreciate it enough for a visit. Of course, I’ve heard it’s stunning, that just looking at it as the light changes moment to moment is captivating, that for some it’s a deeply spiritual experience, and that Meryl Streep lost her movie baby to a Dingo here, but I also know that it’s the most visited landmark in Australia (not a good thing generally), to the point where prior visitors and guidebooks offer coaching on how to avoid busloads of tourists, that it can be really hot here in the summertime, and that, well…it’s a big rock.
After a couple days of exploring, though, I have to admit it is pretty amazing. Uluru is, in fact, a large rock – about 1000 feet high, with the vast majority of its bulk actually submerged underground – not a mountain. The surrounding terrain is fairly flat, with undulating red sand dunes and desert scrub (the color of the earth seems Mars-like). The unexpected, out-of-place appearance of this massive monolith is one of the more dramatic curves I’ve ever seen thrown by nature ( a bit like Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, though on a much grander scale). Uluru really does take your breath away – even for a cynic like me.
Two things that I didn’t expect but that enhanced the experience:
1. The closer you get to Uluru, the more you can see that weather and time have done a number on its face, creating loads of caves and gullies. It’s aged well – the lunar appearance just adds to the awe and mystery. This is particularly true on the side of Uluru that you aren’t supposed to photograph (it’s sacred to the local aboriginal community), with massive checkerboard patterns in the rock, huge overhangs, and craters. If you visit, make sure to drive or hike all the way around the rock. This is probably as close as you’ll come to feeling like you’ve made a lunar landing here on Earth.
2. Speaking of the aborigines, the Australian Park Service does a great job of integrating the spiritual, sacred significance that Uluru holds for the local Anangu people into the experience here – and it’s done in an intelligent, unobtrusive way. It’s also pretty amazing to take a 2 hour hike along the base of the Rock and come upon cave art that’s thousands of years old (there’s tons of this sort of thing here, which as a Discovery Channel fan and a long time subscriber to National Geographic, I love).
If climbing the rock holds appeal, you can do it, but the Anangu view it as akin to defiling their shrine – sort of a no-no if you have any respect for the locals – and, frankly, people die trying to do it on a fairly regular basis – it’s steep and slippery. Even the locals say it’s the hardest thing they’ve ever done. Finally, the Park won’t let you do it when it’s above 36 degrees Celsius - fairly common here in the summertime – which was my out.
As for the potential downsides (see crowds, heat, above) it’s still Australia, where the most visited place will feel blissfully serene by American standards. Granted, summer is their slow time and I did most of my touring in the afternoon – when those in the know said any large tour groups hovering in the area are typically at Kata Tjuta, another big, otherworldly, rocky local attraction – but it felt like I almost had the place to myself. On the aforementioned hike - to the base of the rock, past great aboriginal cave art en route to the only permanent waterhole at Uluru – I saw just two other people walking (and they were together). No lines, no crowds. Even the ranger at the park entrance was chatty – I think she may have been a little lonely…
It is hot – I’m here in the antipodean summer - but it’s like a hot day in Vegas or Phoenix. Bring water (lots of it), wear a hat, and you’ll be fine. Focus on the clear, deep blue sky and you’ll forget the heat (and the desert flies, which I think complete some sort of assertiveness training before being released into the wild here).
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