Uluru dawn - Kata Tjuta sunset.

The park pass for the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park is only valid for three days, and I had got up at 5.30 in the morning and driven into the park three mornings in a row in an attempt to be able to climb Uluru. And for three mornings the climb had been closed due to strong winds at the summit.

So yesterday morning, armed with a couple of extra passes that had been kindly left behind at the campground kitchen by a departing camper, Pam and I headed into the park again. Before dawn it was just as windy as on the previous mornings, but incredibly the gate was open, and the "Closed" sign was nowhere to be seen.

Determined to be well up the rock long before the ranger returned and had a re-think, I quickly applied some sunscreen, grabbed my water bottle, and set off hot on the heels of three Japanese girls.

Halfway up the first section of the steepest part of the climb I passed the Japanese girls, and was now at the head of a growing straggle of climbers slowly ascending. I pushed on in the growing dawn, keen to be the first to the summit. The climb was steep and tough going at first, but levelled halfway up into a much gentler gradient.

Not long after I got started the ranger appeared at the foot of the climb, and it was closed again, and no new starters were allowed, Pam told me later.



Most of the final part of the climb was still in the shade, and the wind was quite strong, but easily managable, and I finally climbed into the sun and reached the summit marker, and admired the vast sweeping view.



I had about ten minutes alone at the summit before the next climbers arrived, and took a few pictures while nobody else was in sight, and then just sat and soaked up the stunning vista. I was incredibly pleased to be able to do the climb, and glad that my persistence had paid off in the end.



I still wonder slightly about the rights and wrongs of climbing the rock when the traditional owners request that people do not do so, but I think for me I made the right decision - it was a wonderful experience.



By the time I climbed back down and returned to the carpark there were several buses and alot of cars, and many disappointed people who would not be climbing today. Thanks to Pam for pictures taken from base camp of the climbing.



After another relaxing day by the pool we wandered up to one of the lookouts to watch the sun set over the domes of Kata Tjuta in the distance. Absolutely magnificent!

Today I fly back to Perth again, but have had a wonderful time here at Uluru. It really is well worth coming to see. Huge thanks to Pam and Ces for being my Uluru buddies, and for lending me their 4WD every morning to go and see if the climb was open.

Goal 40 - didgeridoo dawn.

I have been attending a didgeridoo, or yidaki (see below) class at Didgeridoo Breath in Fremantle, and over the past few weeks have progressed fairly well under the expert guidance of Levi, the didge teacher there. In the first lesson I managed to get the feel of the technique of "circular breathing", which means that a continuous note or rhythm can be played without having to stop to refill the lungs.



I have practiced as regularly as possible over the last few weeks, and can manage a couple of decent-sounding rhythms, and really enjoy playing. The practice didge is merely a piece of plastic plumbing pipe, but sounds pretty good. However, after the lessons a few of us would try out some of the didges in the shop, and when you find one that suits you, the sound is rich and deep and awesome. One day I might treat myself to one of these top-quality didges, but in the meantime, I decided to buy myself a cheap didge that I planned to bring out to Uluru with me.

I feel that to class my didgeridoo goal as complete I needed to come and play it out in the Australian wilderness, and thought that Uluru would be the ideal place to do so. Unfortunately, I discovered that the didgeridoo is originally only from Arnhem Land in the far north of Australia, and only spread to the central area about 150 years ago.

Regardless, it still felt pretty special to climb up to the top of a sand dune just before dawn yesterday morning, and sit playing my current favourite rhythm, with the magnificent Uluru filling the view in front of me, just to the right of the slowly rising sun.

There wasn't another soul around, and it was a wonderfully peaceful and relaxing way to achieve my 40th goal.



From Wikipedia:-

The didgeridoo (also known as a didjeridu or didge) is a wind instrument of the Aborigines of northern Australia. It is sometimes described as a natural wooden trumpet or "drone pipe". Musicologists classify it as an aerophone. The instrument is traditionally made from living Eucalyptus trees, which have had their interiors hollowed out by termites. Contrary to popular belief, logs are not stuck into termite mounds for the termites to do the hollowing. Crafters would find suitable trees by knocking on the bark to see if it was hollow.

A modern didgeridoo is usually cylindrical or conical in shape and can measure anywhere from 1 to 3 m (3.2 ft to 9.8 ft) in length with most instruments measuring around 1.2 metres (3.9 ft). The length is directly related to the 1/2 sound wavelength of the keynote. Generally, the longer the instrument, the lower the pitch or key of the instrument. Keys from D to F# are the preferred pitch of traditional Aboriginal players.

There are no reliable sources stating the didgeridoo's exact age, though it is commonly claimed to be the world's oldest wind instrument. Archaeological studies of rock art in Northern Australia suggests that the Aboriginal people of the Kakadu region of the Northern Territory have been using the didgeridoo for about 1500 years, based on the dating of paintings on cave walls and shelters from this period. A clear rock painting in Ginga Wardelirrhmeng from the freshwater period (1500 years ago until the present) shows a didgeridoo player and two songmen. In some Aboriginal cultures, only men are permitted to play it, whereas women can only use clapsticks.

"Didgeridoo" is considered to be an onomatopoetic word of Western invention. It has also been suggested that it may be derived from the Irish words dúdaire or dúidire, meaning variously 'trumpeter; constant smoker, puffer; long-necked person, eavesdropper; hummer, crooner' and dubh, meaning "black" (or duth, meaning "native"). However, this theory is not widely accepted.

The earliest occurrences of the word in print include a 1919 issue of Smith's Weekly where it was referred to as an "infernal didjerry" which "produced but one sound - (phonic) didjerry, didjerry, didjerry and so on ad infinitum", the 1919 Australian National Dictionary, The Bulletin in 1924 and the writings of Herbert Basedow in 1926. There are numerous names for this instrument among the Aboriginal people of northern Australia, with yirdaki one of the better known words in modern Western society. Yirdaki, also sometimes spelt yidaki, refers to the specific type of instrument made and used by the Yolngu people of north-east Arnhem Land. Many believe that it is a matter of etiquette to reserve tribal names for tribal instruments, though retailers and businesses have been quick to exploit these special names for generic tourist-oriented instruments.

Kata Tjuta - "many heads".

Before our second day out in the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, both Ces and I succumbed to the lure of the fly nets that were on sale at the campground reception. The flies in the outback can be very persistant, and by the end of the previous day's walk around the base of Uluru, we were pretty tired of them trying to get in our eyes and up our noses.

Many other tourists had nets which go over the hat and head, and keep the flies of the face, and despite Pam's mockery of us, we thought our extremely over-priced purchases represented excellent value for money!

I was up early to see if the climb to the top of Uluru was open, but after driving there again before dawn, found that the wind was too strong once more, so went to watch the sunrise with the rock as a spectacular backdrop.



Later that morning we drove about 50 kilometres into the park to Kata Tjuta, also known as "The Olgas", so named by Ernest Giles in 1872 in honour of Queen Olga of Wurttemberg.

Kata Tjuta, meaning "many heads", consists of 36 steep-sided domes, and the Valley Of The Winds walk winds spectacularly through this beautiful landscape. The climb through the gap between two of the domes reveals a wonderful valley, in which it really isn't too hard to imagine dinosaurs roaming around.




I am glad to report that the fly net was invaluable, and I think, despite her mocking, Pam was very jealous.
(Yes, that is a wild camel in the bush in the fly net picture.)

That afternoon we snuck into the luxurious Sails Resort Hotel, where we lounged around the sparkling pool drinking beer and relaxing for the rest of the day - this outback camping lifestyle can be pretty comfortable sometimes when done properly!

Goal 39 - rock of ages.

I have called Australia home for over seven years now, and have travelled around here quite a bit. I have seen alot of the country, but am also aware that there is alot more that I haven't yet seen.

Australia is made up of six states and two major mainland territories, namely Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, Western Australia, Tasmania, Australian Capital Territory, and Northern Territory.

The only one of these that I haven't set foot in at all is Northern Territory, and there is alot to see there!

There are also a few other lesser territories that are under the administration of the federal government, more details at Wikipedia.

Australia has a couple of well known icons, the two most familiar being, I imagine, the Sydney Opera House, and Ayers Rock, or Uluru as it tends to be known as now, having been officially given the dual name of "Ayers Rock/Uluru" in 1993. This was changed to "Uluru/Ayers Rock" in November 2002 following a request from the Regional Tourism Association in Alice Springs.

So when I discovered that friends Pam and Ces were heading up from Adelaide to Uluru then beyond to the west, it seemed like an ideal time to go and see the iconic rock.

I flew from Perth direct to Ayers Rock airport, and had booked a spot at the Ayers Rock Resort campground. I was lucky enought to get a window seat at the front of the plane, and had a great view of the rock as we came in to land.

Pam and Ces picked me up at the airport, and once set up at the campground we headed out into the sand dunes and I got a closer look at the rock than I had from the plane. Even at a distance of around 10 kilometres it is impressively large.



Later we went to see the rock as the sun set behind us, which was very atmospheric.



The next morning Ces and I were up early and drove into the national park itself to see sunrise. We joined busloads of other sightseerers at the sunrise viewing area, and as it got lighter, I started to get an impression of just how incredibly big the rock is when viewed close-up.



I have wondered for quite a while about whether I should climb the rock or not, as the traditional Aboriginal owners ask people not to, as it is a sacred site. Many people now choose not to climb, but quite alot still do, and eventually I decided that I would try to do the climb. Although I would wish to respect tradition, I still feel that everyone should have the freedom to enjoy nature as they choose, as long as it is in a non-destructive way.

However, it turned out that I had no choice in the matter, as it was too windy on th rock, and the climb was closed.

That afternoon we walked around the base of the rock, which is a fantastic 10 kilometre walk, offering some stunning views of this incredibly atmospheric and beautiful place.

Light winds causing slow progress....

I had hoped to have another goal achieved by now, but the weather is not helping out. Perth usually has a very reliable afternoon onshore wind coming out of the south-west, which locally is called the Fremantle Doctor, as on a hot summer afternoon it cools the city down nicely. But over the past week or so the winds have been very light, and my second and third kiteboard lessons have had to be postponed.

I did my first lesson a week ago, and spent a couple of hours learning all sorts of safety information, and getting used to flying a pretty big kite. My second lesson was on Thursday, but an hour into it, just as I was about to get into the water with an even bigger kite, the winds dropped right off, and the lesson was cut short.

Since then the winds have been too light, so as yet I am still waiting to actually get wet while attached to a kite! That isn't going to happen now for at least another week, as I fly off to Uluru in a couple of days, so over the weekend I decided it was time to get wet another way.



My jet ski has been tucked away in a friend's garage since the end of the ALife4Sale auction, and it took a bit of tinkering to coax it back to life, but once running, it went well, and it was great fun to be back on the water again.

I have enjoyed a couple of other interesting trips out over the last week, all of which have reminded me of this time last year when the whole craziness of the press interest in ALife4Sale had just reached it's peak.

I went down to Cottesloe again to see the wonderful "Sculpture By The Sea" exhibition on the beach. Instead of just watching this year I joined in, along with Mel and her kids, on the "Freeway Bike Hike", when the freeway is closed, and filled with thousands of cyclists. And yesterday I went south with my friend Chris on our motorbikes to visit mining buddy Sean again, just as we did last year.

See last year's blogs for more info on these events:
Sculpture By The Sea
Freeway Bike Hike
Visiting Sean





Sean and his wife Brooklyn have just had their second baby, and I am pretty sure that this is as close as I have come to achieveing my goal of seeing a baby being born. She is only nine days old. Congratulations Sean and Brooklyn, and baby Indi Maree. And thanks for trusting me to hold her!!