October 20th, 2013 - Melbourne, VIC, Australia
Hello all! Orion here this time. The past few weeks have been some of the most eventful of our entire time in this fabulous, rust coloured country. I'll do my best to keep it summarized, but hang in there, because this might be a long one...
Where did we leave off? Ah, yes. Darwin! Our first impression of Darwin wasn't mind blowing, but as Marina told you, we came to love it. Once we discovered the underground scene, we found that Darwin fulfilled all of our qualifications for a fantastic place. We left friends and memories behind to hit the open road once again. By the time we left, the "build up" was in full swing, and the temperature and humidity were nearly unbearable. Sleeping at night was very difficult. As we left, we had a bittersweet goodbye with that lovely tropical city. Though we were sad to go, the road called, and the prospect of cold desert nights was highly appealing.
Before departing, however, one of our dread clients offered us the use of her air conditioned home so that "Masta-M" could give the original Rasta Masta dreadlocks again. Marina spent the next 22 hours yanking on my hair and giving me the most perfect skinny locks that I'd always dreamed of. Though I was in immense pain for parts of it, it was worth it. It's been two weeks now and they are already mature. The apprentice has officially become the masta. We enjoyed the gracious gift of our friend's king size bed, shower, and mind-expandingly succulent raw cheffing, then bade her farewell.
We spent the next few weeks and 3000 kilometres on an epic journey down the "red centre" towards Adelaide, exploring the many national parks and beautiful places along the way. This is that story...
Our first stop was Litchfield National Park. Though it is only a few hours out of Darwin, we arrived near dinner time because of one last market day in the city to say goodbye. We camped just outside the park next to a perfectly spherical boulder significantly larger than our van. It seemed to be perched, ready to roll, and it was a powerful spot to get back into "road-mode." An itchy head on my part made for hours of late night photography which was well worth it. Finally, I joined Marina in the van and slept like the giant rock watching over our camp spot.
When many people think of Australia, they visualize red desert, red desert, red dunes, red bushes, red rocks, red desert, and red desert! In reality, there is so much more! There is a lot of desert, for sure, but Litchfield and our journey down to Katherine was quite the opposite. We spent most of our time hiking in the hills, relaxing in the perfectly pure streams, and swimming under waterfalls. The streams are amazing. Visualize one of the perfect mountain streams from BC, complete with deep rock pools and all, and then crank up the temperature! It was like being at home, but rather than frantically jumping in and out of the water, we lazed around, snorkeled, sat under the falls, and enjoyed the perfect peace while letting our bodies heal as they sat weightless in the pools. We also explored another spot with a huge waterfall in a setting similar to that of an alpine lake, hiked around the beautiful hills, and marveled at the tantalizingly climbable rock faces in all directions. We took advantage of every non-crocodile-infested waterhole, and luckily, there were many. It was fantastic.
When we arrived in Katherine, we immediately noticed the difference in the air. The sun was still intense, the air was still hot, but the humidity was gone! Ah, glorious, glorious dry heat. It felt so good. We kept our sights on water though, and we managed to find some more amazing places. The Katherine Gorge had a big river with a couple hundred metres square monitored for crocs. We swam there, wondering whether it would take someone getting chomped before they would notice a new croc, and looked down the river at the beautiful cliff walls of the Katherine Gorge rising out of the water. It was wonderfully refreshing. After swimming we saw a little wallaby that was nearly tame, and went right up to it and hung out with it for a while.
The next waterhole on our list was the Katherine Hot Springs. I was a little skeptical as we arrived, for two reasons: 1 - We have AMAZING hot springs in BC, and 2 - It was definitely hot enough outside. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to go in! I definitely didn't want to get any hotter than the air outside. Luckily, the springs aren't actually heated. The water is kept at a constant 32 degrees celcius due to the temperature of water underground in that area, but there isn't any volcanic action to bring the water up to boiling or anything. I'd call them more like "luke-warm springs," but it's all relative I guess. As far as I know, there aren't any truly HOT springs in Australia, or at least in the centre. The water was in a narrow canal that was so clear that it looked like it was only a few centimetres deep, when in reality it was up to my chest. Upon entering the canal, you were immersed in a tropical paradise. Giant palms stretched overhead selflessly offering shade, thick ferns lined the edges, and underwater was the purest, most beautiful tropical blue you could ever imagine. The body temperature water was also amazing, because if you closed your eyes and floated, you could easily forget that you even had a mass of flesh surrounding your brain. It was quite surreal, and we spent half the day there enjoying the little canals and pools.
Eventually it was time to go, but we didn't leave sadly, as there were more springs en route. The next stop was Mataranka, another beautifully forested area with two perfect waterholes. Bitter Springs was the first one, and it was like something we had never experienced before. The perfectly clear, deep water, combined with a rich underwater life cycle made for a unique experience. We brought our snorkels and paddled down the river marvelling at the crazy plants, algae, logs, turtles, and so many brilliant colours of the water. Mataranka Springs came next, and was a nice contrast from Bitter. Rather than a myriad of crazy things to look at, Mataranka was a small network of brilliant turquoise pools, perfect for lounging in for eternity. The colour of the water was like so many swimming pools try to imitate, with the white sand on the bottom, blue sky above, and perfect mixing of the two in the phenomenally clear water in between. We said goodbye to what we thought would be the end of our experiences with water, and went on our way after thoroughly enjoying the beautiful H2O.
One day, we saw a sign for a random town in the middle of the outback a few kilometres off the road, and decided to check it out. And it was a good call! It was the typical Aussie experience. The "town" consisted of two glorious things: a rustic roadhouse (pub/servo), and a bunch of locals drinking and gawkers gawking in it! The walls were covered with photo IDs, AFL jerseys, random knick knacks, thousands of bras and panties, and about $10,000 in foreign cash. The vibe was so chill that when I went in to pay for petrol, they asked me how much it came to! I had to go back out and check because I was so taken aback. It was amazing. We took advantage of their free swimming pool and not free ice cream before we hit the dirt again. It was well worth the extra two kilometres.
As we continued down the road, we started noticing an interesting spectacle on the side of the road. Every so often, amongst the hundreds of termite mounds gathered by the highway, a couple would stick out. They were dressed up! They looked remarkably like people, and the clothes made some of them realistic enough to take a second glance. Roly poly ones, tall ones, skinny ones, fat ones; gangsters, duffers (ravers), business people, rock stars, and a lot of mediocre mud streakers. Some people didn't have much imagination and just dressed a mound in a T-shirt, but the most creative ones were phenomenal. My personal favourite was a mound ready to rave. He was dressed in AFL footy shorts, had a bright neon singlet on, neon bracelets and bling dangling on stick arms, green star shaped sunglasses, a headband, and Nike balla shoes. Surrounding him were two or three of the "streakers," clad simply in dirty Ts, which enhanced overall image. Ah, the happenings of the outback! Hilarious...
We also passed many rhyming, inspirational road signs, which were always good for a laugh after driving for four or five hours. Classics such as, "Please arrive alive," and "Stop, revive, survive," as well as more risqué ones like, "We like our lizards frilled, not grilled," and "Drowsy drivers die." There was also a regularly recurring one that said, "Have a spell," which I still don't fully understand, but find very funny for some odd reason. It had to do with encouraging people to use the rest stops every hundred kilometres or so.
Suddenly we saw a sign for the Devil's Marbles, a beautiful scattering of giant boulders in the middle of the desert. We were pleasently surprised, as we had thought that Karlu Karlu, as it is known in the native tongue, was only 4WD accessible. We spent a few hours exploring the magical place and did yoga on the epic boulders. I put on my climbing shoes and climbed to the top of the highest boulder as a finale to do some handstands, a somewhat death-defying feat as the climb was not exactly easy, the space at the top was very small, and I was about 25 metres above the ground. It felt fantastic.
Thrilled by our experience with the boulders, we sped away and reached Alice Springs in "no time," relatively speaking. We stopped briefly at Wycliffe Well on the way to see the UFO centre of Australia. It's a town with hundreds of UFO sightings and a tiny population of three people. Travelers and locals alike have seen UFOs regularly over the years and many people have no doubt in the stories. It was an interesting break from the road and their bumper stickers were pretty hilarious.
Alice Springs is smack dab in the middle of Australia, and is the gateway to several amazing places, including the Aussie icon, Uluru (Ayers Rock). But before I get to that, I have a few more things to cover. I'll stick to telling the tale in chronological order.
As I was saying, Alice Springs is in the centre of Australia, and is sandwiched in the middle of an ancient mountain range. The East Macdonnels stretch off to one side and are mostly 4WD accessible, and the West Macdonnels slither to the other side, with a few more conveniently sealed roads. We chose to explore the West Macdonnels as we are without 4WD capabilities. I think we may have to come back on another trip with a fully decked out four wheeler. Australia is a mecca for four wheeling, and you can penetrate into some seriously amazingly rugged, untouched terrain. For now though, we stuck to the pavement.
As we drove in between the crubling mountains, I was reminded of Leh, with its insanely high yet rounded peaks, and also of a distant vision of himalayan grandeur. 314 million years ago, the Macdonnels were higher than the Himalayas are today, and looking upon the hilly yet powerful landscape, I could easily visualize the not-so-distant past. Rock solid hevitree quartzite walls remained where soaring ridges used to reign, defiantly jutting out of the rocky hills as if to say, "I dare you to look down upon me. I've seen more than you will ever see, and still I stand tall."
We had many adventures over the two days that we allotted ourselves in the Macdonnels, and wished we had our backpacking gear from home. There is a huge 249 kilometre trek through the ranges that I would have loved to do. Amazing. Instead, we swam in several ice cold water holes and rivers, bouldered over the water in deep water solo fashion, and I scrambled to the top of one of the huge ridges overlooking a river. As the wind threatened to blow me off the hundred metre high cliff faces, I looked over a safari-esque flat bottomed valley dotted with stunted bushes surrounded by rock walls and crumbling mountains stretching off as far as the eye could see.
We ended our exploration of the Macdonnels by going to Standley Chasm, a water carved gorge made out of solid rock. It was only about five metres wide at the bottom, and the walls stretched high, high above. We hopped the rope that said, "Do not go beyond this point, you risk injury and even DEATH," which was a great decision. We climbed up a maze of gorges, chasms, and hillsides until we were at the peak of the mountain, looking down at the tiny speck that was Standley Chasm. We could see 360 degrees around us, and as we stood at the top of a cliff face admiring the view of the range stretching to eternity, I considered the implications of becoming a hermit and living the rest of my days wandering in and amongst these gigantic rock formations. I decided against it, and reluctantly left the indomitable place behind with awe and respect, forever embedded in my memory as a place of unsurpassed beauty. Viewed from a distance, the Macdonnels command great veneration, but only when you explore into their depths do you truly discover the sublime secrets that they have kept for millions of years.
Our wheels spun madly again, and another thousand kilometres ticked over on our odometre. We had more rock to meet: Watarrka, or King's Canyon - the Grand Canyon of Australia.
We arrived in the afternoon and proceeded to make lunch in preparation for the Watarrka hike. It was sweltering outside, but this was our only shot to really experience the canyon, so after a hasty meal of fly covered egg sandwiches (the flies were SO bad for the whole centre of Oz, and they were the worst at King's Canyon. There were literally thousands. In your eyes, mouth, on your face, in your food....disgusting. I think I ate one that was too ballsy to move just to spite it for being too stupid, brave, annoying, or most likely all three.), we hit the trail with five litres of water on my back, wet buffs around our necks, and kangaroo hats hiding our noses from the baking sun. The hike was steep and hot, but very rewarding. It climbed up a steep ridge and then circled around the edge of smooth, dizzying cliffs with not a hold in sight for the climber's eye. At the top were stunning beehive shaped mounds of stone creating mazes of mini-canyons that you could get lost in for hours. The trail wound and wove through the mounds, veering off to the giant cliff's edge at convenient view points. It reminded us of Nepal, but with less mountains and more glorious cliff faces. We took a side trip down to a sacred aboriginal site in the canyon called the "Garden of Eden," which was a perfect year-round pool of water surrounded by soaring rock faces on all sides. The hike took us about three hours, but with the intense heat it felt more like five. When we got back to the van we were exhausted, but energized by the powerful vibrations present throughout the sacred canyon. We drove late that night, excited about the plan for the next day, and...
Lo! Uluru! How can I describe this incredible place? It sounds cliche, but words really can't do it justice... Neither can photography, video, or anything. I think that it is one of the most powerful places energetically that I've ever been to on planet Earth, and is probably my favourite place that I've ever traveled to.
When I first saw photos of Uluru, I thought that it would be a big crumbly hill thing. Majestic, yes, but nothing like it actually turned out to be. It blew my mind. Uluru literally is a rock. It's a legit, solid ROCK, that's been carved and mutated by the winds, water, and maybe even waves over millions of years. When our van first approached it and I realized that the faces were completely smooth stone, I was overcome with awe and joy. What's more, I knew that the stone standing 348 metres above the ground was only the tip of the iceberg. Like its colder cousin, most of Uluru is hidden below the surface. An estimated two thirds of solid rock extend beneath the unexplored red dirt.
After we parked and checked out the information centre, which gave us some insight into the aboriginal history behind the rock, we had to decide how we wanted to see Uluru. As rock climbers, our first thought was to climb it, but after a lot of thought, we decided against it. The Australian governement basically "stole" Uluru from the aboriginal people and only recently have they gotten their sacred land back. Back in the day, everyone used to climb "Ayer's Rock," and chains and handrails were even bolted along the climb. Of course, back then, no one bothered to ask the aboriginals what they thought of it. Traditionally, Uluru was very rarely climbed. The aboriginals only ever climbed it in a rare coming of age ceremony for young men, and it was a serious spiritual journey. We did a lot of reading on the different viewpoints and decided that we would respect the wishes of the aboriginals and not climb the beautiful rock. What sealed the deal for me was when I saw a big sign posted by the aboriginal custodians that said something along the lines of, "Please do not climb the rock. Uluru is a place to be enjoyed in the silence and observed, not conquered and stood upon. Please think of our culture and respect our wishes by not climbing. " Right next to that was an Australian governement stamped sign that blatantly gave directions of how to climb, safety information and more. I found it incredibly rude. Although climbing is not conquering for me, and I would be undertaking the climb in the spiritual spirit of the young men who used to climb it, I decided that I would sacrifice my desire for the sake of others who may watch me climb and then follow with a less respectful attitude. Often actions are stronger than words. There was also a significant negative environmental impact due to climbing that we did not want to be a part of. The water in that area is scarce enough. Damaging the sources and dirtying the water should not be by-products of visiting Uluru.
Instead of climbing, we decided to walk around Uluru. We started in the afternoon, and the heat was merciless. The path was flat and extended around the entire rock, giving hundreds of different views. As the day progressed, we saw the rock in different lights and shadows, with the ever changing, always inventive backdrop of sky. The twelve kilometre walk was grueling, but as I trudged along I felt a lightness beneath the weight of my body, giving me relief from the sun, wind, and elements. It's a feeling that is difficult to describe. The intensity was still there, but I was removed from it, as if I was insulated from the negative feelings of burning and heat stroke. It was as if my nerves were tuned to only feel the positive through my flesh. Perhaps my continually renewed awe as we marched was the cause of it, or maybe it was something deeper. Perhaps it was an energy that emenates from the rock that attracted the aboriginal people in the first place, and the ceremonies and respect offered from then on over the next ten thousand years only added to it. Perhaps it was a conscious, benevolent force, urging me to go on, urging me towards...something...
Upon returning to the van, we celebrated with another ancient pleasure from the other side of the world: chocolate. We parked the van with a great view for sunset, and cooked dinner as the light faded and the clouds blew imperceptibly swiftly overhead, like the time lapse video we filmed as we ate. The clouds obscured the sun early, and as a result we didn't see the famous red glow of the rock at sunset, but we saw a lesser known personality of Uluru, the stormy desert skies.
We woke up before dawn and hurried to see the sun rise, to make up for our lack of sunset glow. We were rewarded (along with about 200 other people) by the classic image of the rock lit up bright red by the first rays of sun. It was freezing cold, but even with the hoardes of people loading off of tourist buses, it was rewarding. We snapped some photos, basked in the glow, and then said goodbye to Uluru and drove to the other giant rocks nearby, Kata Tjuta.
Kata Tjuta, or The Olgas, is an area with giant rocks similar to Uluru. However, instead of one giant rock, Kata Tjuta is a "scattering" of 36 impressive domes (Kata Tjuta means "many heads"). Though lesser known than Australia's monolithic icon, Kata Tjuta is equally amazing. The highest dome is 546 metres tall; that's 198 metres taller than Uluru! Kata Tjuta's domes are made of a different rock than Uluru, which was interesting to note. It is a type of conglomerate. From a distance, the gigantic cliff faces look like one rock, but when you get up close, you see that the giant face is made up of thousands of little rocks, from as small as a pebble to bigger than a person, smashed and glued together to create one HUGE boulder. In contrast, Uluru was fairly smooth, and was one uniform rock. I think Uluru is granite based, which was originally sand, wheras Kata Tjuta is a great many things all squashed into one.
As you probably guessed, we did some hiking through the epic gullys and gigantic gorges that wind through the many heads. The day was spent oggling at the rocks, scheming about free soloing, and sitting in the silence of the gorges, listening to the wind, birds, and peace. At sunset, we were gifted the experience of the red glow over Kata Tjuta, and feeling fulfilled, we packed up the van and left the magical centre of Australia. I'll keep Uluru forever in my heart as an example of the purity and raw power of Mother Nature. It is a very special place.
Once we got driving, we were on a roll! We had two marathon days and before we knew it, we had reached the overwhelmingly condensed and populated East Coast. We stopped briefely to see Cooper Pedy, a strange town with a post apocalyptic feel... Surrounding the town are millions (literally) of piles of rock where mining shafts had been dug for opals. As the opal capital of Australia, Cooper Pedy's landscape has been massacred. Walking through the fields is not recommended, as open thirty metre deep shafts are left when they are exhausted of gems. Strolling at night or without paying attention is a potentially fatal undertaking. Besides the massacred landscape, there are other things that remind you of the zombie apocalypse as you explore Cooper Pedy. As the land there is solid rock, half of the population lives underground in houses carved out of old mines. The temperatures are forty plus in the summer and below zero in the winter, and there is always a huge varience between day and night climates. It isn't a very welcoming place, but it was defintiely interesting! We went to one of the underground churches to see what it was like living underground and it was actually amazing! The temperature was perfect, it was sound proof, and because the walls, cielings, and floors were all carved of the same block of stone, it had a really peaceful feeling. The church also had an amazing carving in the wall of a saint or something: another reminder that everything from the entranceway to the art was made of stone. Pretty sustainable living if you ask me! No heating or cooling needed, no building materials except a chisel, and there is no way that you'll need any repairs in at least four or five lifetimes! Despite the feeling that zombies might leap out at any moment and drag you into one of the pits in the fields to feast, Cooper Pedy was a fascinating place.
As we left the desert, we felt nostalgic, missing in advance what we had come to love. We had new challenges ahead of us, challenges involving masses of population instead of unbearable heat. Challenges that I know are far more testing to me than the baking highways. But all things in this physical universe must come to an end, and as we approached the spiderweb of sealed roads in the South-East, we steeled our minds for the change of pace. It started with a few towns, more powerlines, more fences, a few bigger towns, then towns with only short breaks of nature in between, then....the city. Welcome to Adelaide.
And now I will pass the baton to Marina, who will attempt to describe the utter chaos of millions of people compared to the absolute peace of the outback. The outback is home to me in Australia. Sure, the rainforests and mountains and lakes are amazing, but where I feel most comfortable is in the midst of the desert, with nothing but the sun and the red dirt to keep me company.
Until next time,
Orion (& Marina)
No comments:
Post a Comment