The Aussie Outback

Swagging with the stars in the land of the flies

Written by

Dieter

Published

May 3rd, 2019

In

Alice Springs, Australia

Alrighdie (that's Australian for "Alright"), time to catch up

Have you ever heard of Mount Connor? Or Kata Tjuta? No? Then get ready to be surprised. It’s probably gonna be a rather long post (edit: it has become an evening-filling article), so if you’re in a hurry, come back later. If not, go to the toilet (and if you’re at work, stay there – you’re getting paid either way), get yourself a drink, pull up a blanket, tell your wife you’re working late and put on some Aussie classics (Kylie Minogue, John Farnham and INXS all will do). Ready? Then start scrolling and be awed and amazed by this country you probably know sh*t about!

The Great Ocean Roadtrip

I left Melbourne in a white bus, together with 24 other people. We were on a tour! Destination: Adelaide. Stops along the way included the Great Ocean Road, the Grampians mountain range, Tower Hill reserve and the MacKenzie Falls. The first day we were driving the Great Ocean Road, which is a great road that meanders along the ocean (Australians lack any creativity when it comes to naming things). It passes over cliffs, along beaches, through jungles and in between fields that could’ve easily been Scottish import. A lot of the places (villages included) we crossed were, or have been at some point in there history, burnt. It’s a very different reality than the one I’m used to in Belgium. And apparently some species of Eucalyptus tree need to burn down so they can grow higher and better. So they do everything they can to stimulate fire, including releasing oil damps that are used to spread the fire more quickly. Imaging having to fear the kamikaze trees in your own backyard. This country is crazy.

The history of the Road and how it came to existence (look it up, this is not Wikipedia), was more impressive than the road itself though. The fact that it was Easter Sunday so we were all but alone, and it was clouded and rained for most of the day didn’t add to the experience. Luckily, we got ourselves a perfect sunset, before arriving at Warrnambool.

Tower Hill & the Grampians

From Warrnambool we drove to Tower Hill reserve, where I spotted my first emus and koalas in the wild. Check. Check. Double check. In case you were wondering; yes, I was standing on a picnic table while photographing the emus, and yes, I was already on it before they approached me (but they’re pretty scary nevertheless). The reserve is basically a huge park inside the crater of a volcano, where we were all alone and where the sun decided to join us again. Much better than the day before! After taking the obligatory pictures, we left for the Grampians, a mountain range covered with trees. There we did our first real hike. Up to the top of one of the mountain tops. The views were unreal, and every picture you see can’t even comprehend the majesty of standing on top, feeling the wind and the sun on your skin, and seeing birds soar above the trees meters below you.

In the aboriginally owned hostel where we were staying in Halls Gap in the middle of the Grampians, I met 69 year old Jan. She’s an aborigine (and she has Facebook, in case you were wondering). Next to me in the sofa, she talked about her love for the land, the art her partner Wayne makes, her bicycle trip through Europe in the 80s, her dreams and beliefs, her religion and… how much she loves fast cars. I asked what kind of car she drives, and my friend wondered how much horsepower it has. “Oh, I don’t know, dear,” she replied with a gentle smile and a twinkle in her eyes, “I just love to get in and get me foot down.” I was about 16.000km from the place I last called home, and this random kindhearted stranger shared some of her truest stories with me. It hit me right in the feels. Hard. As a result, a few tears of pure happiness may have left my eyes.

She was not the only one that warmed my heart during the trip though. There were hilarious Ecuadorians, sassy Dutchies, kind Canadians, interesting Chinese, funny Swiss, a gentle Iranian girl and the adorable British couple Jacky and John. After a few healthy setbacks, they decided to travel more. Even though they were in their early 70s, and Jacky broke her arm soon after arriving in Australia, they had positive spirits and did all the hikes everybody else did. It was very impressive, and along the trip I got to know more about their kids and how they met, and I got really really fond of them. If I hadn’t already had the best grandparents in the world, I would’ve asked them to adopt me as their fourth grandchild.

We spent the last day mostly on the bus, driving to Adelaide – where the tour ended for most of the group, and Lauranne and I would start a second tour. We stopped at some viewpoints over the Grampians and did a short hike around the MacKenzie Falls before we arrived at our not yet final destination. It was Saturday night and the city center looked deader than most of the kangaroos we would see the next day, so I don’t think I’ll be back soon.

To the Outback

It was 6:27am as a heavy dude with grey dreadlocks and a bandana wrapped around his head entered the hostel lobby. “Who’s ready to go to Uluru?!” he shouted enthusiastically. Silence. Out of the maybe 20 gathered people, three opened their eyes. Did I mention it was 6:27am? As a flock of sheep we crossed the street, put our bags in the trunk of the vehicle, and got a safety briefing by the guy that we could call Joey. His accent was raw and Australian, and his humour was probably drier than the outback he’d be taking us to.

It only took a few hours on the road to warm up and to realize how much I was loving this. The vehicle Joey was driving was best described as a combination of a truck and a tour bus – ugly red dusty seats included. It was sturdy and robust (it has lived for over 1,000,000kms!), and the rusty speakers seemed to play only songs from the 70s or the 80s (apart from the weirdly occasional Lady Gaga). With a little help from Joey, this bustruck took us over hilly roads where we barely passed 5 vehicles an hour, through sleepy towns that were named after Irish counties, British Prime Ministers, and wives of prominent British gentlemen (there was even one called Laura!). There were hills and fields and sheep and dust and some scarce trees as far you could look. And where this beautiful landscape ended, clear blue skies took over. With a fiercely burning sun in the middle of it. It was nothing but absolutely f*cking amazing!

Home for the first two nights was Quorn. Apart from the name, it also shared its utter lifelessness with the vegetarian meat alternative. It had a few bars, a single store and… that was actually about it. It’s a sleepy little town that’s only frequented by an old steam train on the weekends (which is pretty cool). From there we went on a few beautiful hikes in the surrounding natural parks. They’re tough, but were rewarded but wonderful views. And again, words and pictures can only describe so much of the full experience.

En route to Youlourou

From Quorn we left for our ultimate destination: Uluru (pronounced as youlourou – with the accent on rou), right in the middle of Australia. The (only) road to the center was paved with dead wildlife. Every few hundred meters, there was a dead kangaroo, eagle or other animal smeared on or along the road. There were also abandoned car wrecks in different shapes and sizes, and an occasional Fata Morgana. Luckily, there was even more alive wildlife. There were only a few grasses, plants and low trees on the sand floor, but they were home to a bunch of animals you could easily fill up a zoo with. There were emus, crows, horses, cockatoos, eagles, cows, kangaroos, camels and, once you crossed the famous Wall (which is basically a thin wired fence), there were dingoes as well. And then I’m only mentioning the animals I’ve actually seen.

The distance between Quorn and Uluru is about 1.200km, so we did a few stops along the way in resting areas, or “towns” that have been especially created for outback travellers. One ghost town we visited was Woomera. For years it served as an American military base to test weapons and missiles and rockets. From far away, the Aussie Outback might look empty, but there’s clearly more to it, and it’s obviously far from boring. We spent our third night in Coober Pedy, an opal mining town where people took their homes underground to escape from the summer heat. Thanks to all the mining, the entire area was covered in giant towers of sand that would drive any self-respecting mole to jealousy. In the opal museum we visited I learnt, amongst other things, that opal is actually my birth stone. It wasn’t a life changing moment. We spent the night in an underground sleeping bunker, got up at 5am (a crazy habit we would honor until the end of the trip) and drove the remaining kilometers to the Red Centre.

Uluru

It was still dark when Joey dropped us at the start of an 8.4km track around the rock. Yep, that thing is huge. And contrary to what one might expect in the middle of the desert, it was bloody cold. But during the calm and peaceful walk, the sun rose to a comfortable height. It was pretty majestic to see the rock lighting up and changing color. For me, the biggest surprise was how the for the aboriginals so important piece of rock changed form and color from every possible angle. Every step I took gave me an almost entirely new view. It was impressive and unexpected, since basically every picture shows it from afar, where it seems like a rather homogeneous chunk of red sand.

Fast forward to the evening when we had the chance to sleep in our tents, or in a swag. That’s an Australian sleeping bag for a sleeping bag. You pick a spot in the out and the open, roll it open, check it for native Australian wildlife (a.k.a. snakes and spiders), get your sleeping bag in it, zip it all up, and make yourself comfortable while the swag keeps you warm. And the best part: the view of a million stars above you. I even saw a few shooting stars!

Kata Tjuta

It appeared there’s not only one impressive rock formation in the middle of Australia, but there’s actually three of them. And one of them, Kata Tjuta, is so important to the aboriginals (the traditional owners of the land, as they’re called here), they have the right to close it down for tourists whenever they wish. And that’s why you don’t know about it, even though it’s only a mere 27km away from Uluru – and way more impressive. The road between the two, however, is about 45km long and meanders around. That is because woman aren’t allowed to even look at Kata Tjuta and going in direct line between the two is specifically reserved for a boy’s initiation ritual. Mind blown, right?! Take a second to let that sink in (go on, go open the door – budum tss). As we were lucky and it wasn’t closed down, we got the chance to do a few hikes around the formations (where I coincidentally ran into Jacky and John again!). Again, fairly gigantic and impressive.

The third rock, and this one you can’t visit at all, is Mt. Connor, or Fooluru (because from afar it looks like the red giant, but it’s actually another one – get it?!). While the former two were created in the same geological event (it’s pretty interesting, you should look it up), the latter dates from another period. You can only admire it from afar, but it looks quite impressive as well.

Alice Springs and the West Macdonnell Ranges

All good things come to an end (except for this post – it’s gonna go on forever, no worries), and this road trip was no exception. We did a final rise at 5am, packed up our stuff, went on a hike through the famous Kings Canyon and took to the bustruck who delivered us at Alice Springs. It was nice to sleep in a real bed again, and have a proper shower. But as that goes for people who don’t have a job, they don’t get any rest. I said goodbye to Lauranne the next morning, as we decided on good terms to do our own thing, and then headed out to meet a buddy from Belgium who happened to be in Alice Springs as well. He arranged us a “small” rental car, that turned out to be an All Wheel Drive Toyota Rav4. Could be worse. I was the lucky one who got to drive, and apart from the occasional “Watch out, keep more to the right!”, I handled it extremely well.

We took our small car to the surrounding West MacDonnell Ranges. A mountain-ish range filled with beautiful spots, lookouts and places to swim. The road and its views were way more magnificent than those of the Great Ocean Road and when we, after a day full of wonder, passed a couple of wild horses along the road, I couldn’t be more happier.