Sunday 25 October 2020

Uluru

From the air, Uluru looks just like a rock. It really is an island in an ocean of spinifex.

Witnessing an Uluru sunrise.
The sun's rising from the northern corner of the rock.

Near sunset when the rock is bathed in the last sun rays of the day.

Uluru is part of the greater Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park.

These photos were taken in September 2019, just before Uluru was finally closed to tourists and climbers. I had the chance to get up close and personal with Uluru.

The minga line crawling up and down Uluru.
Climbers were aided by chains secured on posts drilled and secured to the rock.


These scenes of people and posts & chains are no longer seen on Uluru.






 The trail was painted in some sections.

A photographer was the first soul up there on the day I climbed.
I was taking a photo of the sun and he photo-bombed.



Then the invaders arrived.
  
 I tried to keep far from the chattering crowd.

 Kata Tjuta from Uluru.







The place was crawling with minga, but I had to visit the marker. It looked good and stable.
I gave it my stamp of approval. Surveyors in future will have to come in on an aircraft.
Or they might just send in a drone.


'Now what have we got here?' I asked my shadow. 'Drones?' 'No, birds of prey.'
'Where? O yeah, up in the sky.' 'No, not those, the ones on Uluru.'
'See them? On the edge of the rock, right of centre.'
'Let me zoom in.'
 A pair of peregrinators. They were a bit distant and I only had a point-and-shoot, but it was such a rare privilege to catch sight of Peregrine Falcons on Uluru.


 I lingered for a bit on that un-deserted desert island.
I felt right at home, but I had to go home.


 So I joined the minga line...
 down the white paint line
 to the car line







And tourists shall not set foot on Uluru again...


 At sunset I bid adieu to Uluru.

And by the next sunrise, I waved bye-bye.