Magazine for November 2009
Uluru
We could only be in the Red Centre of Australia. Brilliant light, glowing ochre earth, intense blue sky, pearl white ghost gums – and Uluru itself, dusky pink at midday.
When David, Abigail, Jamie and I arrived at Ayers Rock Airport, after a three-and-a-half hour flight from Sydney, we were inspired by the glorious colours. For me this was a second journey to Uluru: my first visit was in 1990.
Uluru: an iron-rich sandstone monolith arising from the heart of Australia, is sacred to the indigenous traditional owners, the Anangu. It tells their stories, it shows the actions of the Spirit Ancestors in their violent conflicts during the Dreamtime, displaying evidence of their falls, their spear-thrusts, their lost shields.
Uluru itself has a strong, brooding presence, which you begin to feel as soon as you see it, and which grows as you approach and gaze. It speaks with its changing colours, amber, fiery red, deep brown, depending how the light falls upon it at different times of day, and its knife-edge shadows and fissures, flaking surfaces, indentations, pockmarks, wave-like effects, and most outstanding of all, the skull formation.
For many visitors, this central icon of Australia is inextricably linked with the idea of climbing to the top. “Go to Australia: climb Ayers Rock”. But, warn the signs at the Aboriginal Cultural Centre, “The Anangu ask that you respect our traditions and customs, and choose not to climb it.”
We caught the shuttle from the Yulara resort, planning to do the base walk. On the 9.2 kilometre trail around the Rock, it was evident that the number of fenced-off sacred areas had been increased since my last visit, pushing the path further out. And yet despite this, a walk around Uluru is full of marvels.
The trees and shrubs are all much greener than you might imagine – the wattles, the fig trees, the desert bottlebrush. The aboriginal cave-paintings fill you with wonder, every experience defeats your expectations – none more so than the Mutitjulu Waterhole. We came upon it unexpectedly, tranquil and mysterious, the Rock’s multi-dimensional character reflected in its quiet waters.
The feeling I brought away with me after walking round the Rock was almost that of walking round a great and beautiful cathedral, imprinted with the devotion of many centuries. I can well understand how the Anangu revere the Rock, which has taken on an awesome spiritual power from the thousands of years of sacred ceremonies and teaching and story-telling centred upon it.
To walk around it is a living experience, making the aboriginal culture richer and more meaningful for visitors, and increasing mutual understanding.
Sheila Robinson