Water From the Rock

As a family we have had a bit of fun thinking up titles for this post.  "Drowning in the Desert," "Unexpected Outback Oasis," "Wading through the Red Centre," and "Shivering in the Outback" were all suggested.  You get the picture.  There was water, and lots of it, accompanied by cold winds, precisely where we did not think they would be. 

Australia has been like that for us, I must say, surprising us at nearly every turn.  By far the majority of these surprises have been pleasant ones, particularly the beautiful friends we have made, and the many wonderful places we have visited.  As for the water, surely we have learnt our lesson by now.  We repent of thinking of Australia as primarily a sunburnt country.  We know that it can rain, and that when it does, it will make up for the drought of the previous decade.  We also know that the Wilkin family, or the Smith family, will likely be present to witness said rain, whether that be in Sydney, Uluru, Port Douglas, Wilsons Promontory, Melbourne, the Great Ocean Road, or the entire state of Victoria for that matter..

While it is true that the sun was shining when we landed in Alice Springs, we were only about half an hour down the Stuart Highway before the clouds opened.  We didn't stop to take many pictures as R was concerned about getting to our destination by nightfall.

The few vehicles we met on the 400km journey to Ayers Rock Resort were mainly extra long transport trucks.

I think I have mentioned my aversion to packing.  I really should not have waited until late in the day before we left on a 6:30am flight.  Next time around, I am sure, I will do a better job planning for all contingencies.  Not a single one of us had proper shoes for hiking.  It was only at the last minute that I grabbed a jacket for all.  We made quite the contrast to the mainly European tourists we met up with, they in their expensive, all-weather parkas and trousers, and proper hiking boots, we in our jeans, shorts, and flip flops or crocs.  I should mention that the average daytime temperature for this part of Australia at this time of year is over 90F.  Most people come back from Uluru sunburned, not waterlogged and cold as we did.

We did our best to remain cheerful, but at times some of us struggled.

Shortly after I took the above picture, the skies opened again in earnest, and we raced back to our vehicle.  The next couple of hours we spent driving around and attempting to feel good about the privilege of seeing the waterfalls streaming from the rock.  A park ranger had told us earlier that morning, with shining eyes, that very few people get the opportunity to see Uluru in the rain, let alone with waterfalls running from its top.  Apparently this area can go six years without a single drop of rain.  The cheerful young woman who took the $140 it took to fill up our diesel tank mentioned that she simply could not wait for her shift to end so she could see the rivers of water for herself.

We oohad and aahed for a while, and then decided we would have preferred to see the rock in the sun.  Oh well.  That didn't happen this time, and we likely will not return.  We are, however, grateful to have been to this special part of Australia, whatever the weather.

 

Comments

[Amy Smith]

I once spend a gray, rainy and lonely Christmas day in Lisbon, Portugal and I've never been able to quite shake the idea that Lisbon is gray, rainy and lonely. I hope you have had many rays of sunshine to add to your memories of the Outback.

[Aubree Keys]

Wow, you really did have a similar experience! I still need to do my entries about the Olgas and King's Canyon, which includes some adventures that happened after I accidentally put diesel fuel in the rental car in the middle of nowhere!