Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, Northern Territory
"The traditional owners would like to strongly discourage you from climbing Uluru (a.k.a. Ayer's Rock)." We did anyway: the traditional owners seem only interested in soaking tourists for dollars, and with our individual, timed admission tickets we're going to see all the attractions.
We also did a full Uluru experience with viewing at sunrise, a hike around the Olgas, and a great sunset dinner in the bush. It was a wonderful day, despite the crowds and the expense of it all.
Uluru is impressive. It's one of the few things I've seen in Australia that's majestic and awe inspiring. And the people who own it--the Anangu--really don't want you around. But since you're going to come anyway, they'll make sure you'll pay through the nose for your Uluru experience.
But more on that later. The day was wonderful; we'll soon forget the crowds and the big dollars we've spent. We got up in the dark at 6:30 so that we could drive the 20km into the park and the sunrise viewing area. Our first impression as we got close to the rock was that it was very textured, with large areas of honeycomb and ridges and places where rockfalls had occurred. We then drove east a few kilometers to the sunrise viewing area, where we (and hundreds of others) watched the sun rise. This did not disappoint--the rock did indeed go from chocolate brown into purple to red to a vivid orange-yellow. It was great; we made tea on the back of the Landcruiser to ward off the chill.
Then we drove over to the Olgas, a less well known formation about 50 kilometers west of Uluru. These are a series of about 30 domed rocks, rising some 300 to 400 meters above the plains. We did a 7 kilometer walk through the Valley of The Winds, and loved it. About lunch, we went to Cultural Center, where the Anangu tell their stories about Uluru and what it means to them. It was pretty good, but also a bit frustrating--again, many of the stories are secret.
Then, after lunch, we decided we'd climb Uluru. We'd gone back and forth a bit on it--Chris and I both really wanted to, but we also wanted to do the right thing. There were just a number of things that made us do it. (Warning: long rant coming up)
First off, the admission scheme to the park changed this year. Last year it was $15 per vehicle for a five day pass. This year it's $16.25 per person for three days, and you have to write your name on the admission ticket. That was irritating--it makes Uluru more expensive than any US National Park. And the traditional owners aren't putting the money into the park. There are only three toilet facilities in the entire park (the cultural center, the sunset viewing area at the Olgas, and at the base of the climb). With a park that gets a thousand visitors a day, you can imagine the queues. There aren't any toilets at the trailheads at the Olgas--I'm guessing the Anangu want you to experience bush toilets if you're a woman or need to take a crap. That admission fee doesn't get you any extras--for instance, I bought a plant list for $1; these are free at other parks. Not even a simple map is included in the admission fee.
It all adds up to the 'soak the tourist' feeling. The budget motel (The Spinifex Lodge) at Yulara closed this year, it was renovated and now is The Lost Camel Hotel, charging $345 for a double per night. The campground's the most expensive we've seen yet; there is a backpacker's hostel that charges $40 for a bed in a shared room (not including linen); beer is $16 a six pack for VB (it's $20 for 24 in Alice Springs). You can't even paint or draw Uluru without paying for an artist's permit.
Second: where are the Anangu? I didn't see one at the Yulara resort. I didn't see one at the Cultural Center. If they're so proud of their culture, why do they put white Europeans at the info desk at their Cultural Center? It leads me to think that they'll just rake in the bucks, sitting back in their houses, while outsourcing everything.
Third: the somewhat condescending tone that much of the signage in the park takes. "The Anangu take water when bushwalking in the heat. We always take enough water. You should too." And constant, constant reminders not to climb the rock. Lonely Planet takes a holier-than-thou attitude as well, saying 'the consensus is the rock should not be climbed'. Consensus of whom? Certainly not the hundreds that climbed it the day we did. Annoyingly, the Anangu call rock climbers 'the minga mob', where 'minga' means 'ant', but having looked for the word 'minga' in the displays of insect life at the cultural center, it didn't appear. I think 'minga' is more derogatory and could possibly mean 'vermin' or 'lice'.
Fourth--and most importantly--is the way the Anangu say 'don't climb the rock', but don't totally discourage it for fear of driving away tourists. If they wanted to close it, they could. There are signs that say the climb may be closed 'for safety or cultural reasons.' So if it's culturally a no-no to climb, why is it still open? Another point: the park's management board has ten members, six of which are nominated by the Anangu. With that majority on the management board, why don't they close the climb?
Ultimately, we just did it. And it was great. The first part was steep, with a chain to pull yourself up. Uluru is flaking sandstone, and there's a lot of traction. You need it. As you get higher and higher, the slope lessens, but you're hundreds of meters up, looking down on to the parking lot. I got a bit of vertigo.
Once off the chain, you follow a dashed painted line to the cairn on top. Yes, the views are amazing; you can see all sorts of mountain ranges and features you can't see from the ground. You can also see all the other tourists do touristy things: many of them pulled out their mobile phones and started SMSing away, while others pulled out their smokes and puffed puffed puffed. The obnoxious American couple that we followed up the climb were rudely telling people to get out of his pictures, too. Ah. Tourists.
It was 55 minutes to climb up. It was 40 minutes back down. We then prepared for our 'Sounds of Silence' dinner--again, Lonely Planet disparaged it, saying 'you can sip cheap champagne while the sun sets on Uluru'. Uh, the champagne wasn't cheap, and the dinner that followed was wonderful, with barramundi and kangaroo and lamb, and a rich macadamia chocolate pie for dessert. Yum. We tottled off to bed late, at 10:30... it was a full day!
Weird Wildlife Sighting
Nothing much. More emus in the middle of nowhere.