Is this a rock?       Or a cathedral?       The decision of whether to go to Ayers Rock or not was the most flip-flopped between us this trip.      A long way to go (2300 kms one way) and the tipping point was exactly that – are we going to see a rock or a place of spiritual reverence for the aborigines people.     

The flights taking visitors in and out are accommodating to do a zigzag in the sky before landing, so our first view of Uluru (the aborigines name of the area) came from above .      Truly it pops out of a plain that goes as far as the eye can squint, surrounded by brilliant red sand and more foliage than we imagined.    Scrubby bushes, trees and grasses break up what would be a vast expanse of desert.     Palm trees survive here as well.      Hitting wildlife is the biggest concern of car rental companies – dingoes mostly.

A sister rock formation (the Olgas are larger and taller) sits 50kms away from Uluru, and photographers do their best to line up both for pics of one or the other in the foreground.   

Whimiscally it seems to me that these rocks could have popped up when the Grand Canyon dropped down..       A mammoth jelly mold of the canyon is before our eyes.

Uluru looks smooth and fairly symmetrical from a distance, though up close you see cascading bowls down the sides here and there, where the rainy season waters find their way to ground.     Holes that look like the work of burrowers dot the rock in spots, open caves in other areas .    

We took in both a sunrise and sunset, as well as a base walk guided by an indigenous park ranger who told us of the actual legends, of giant wallabees (aka mala) who forged the hollows and caves we see.      And tells us of the sacred ground we are on.      Only the male elders went up the 1100 feet to the top when their spiritual practice required it – and it is clearly a bitter pill that so many visitors insist on climbing up the rock even though it is not encouraged out of respect for the founding people.

This land was expropriated by the government in the mid-1900s, and after much work and effort by the aborigines, the land was returned to the original peoples in 1985 with a 99-year lease back to the government, which included the written right of people to climb the rock.     So education and appealing to the best of human nature are the only mechanisms available to discourage climbers.        Disappointing to watch a steady stream of people climbing up Uluru, in clear disregard of the spiritual implications to our hosts .       

I joined a "gray nomad" in walking around the base of Uluru, 11km and 3 hours later, we arrived back with a new appreciation for the vast stillness, the harsh beauty of the place, and a respect for those who call this land home.      A tough people.   

Margaret, the woman I walked with, lives in a small camper trailer and drives around her country exploring wherever things take her fancy.    Interesting and fun company.    She introduced me to the Aussie Wave…that is, constantly brushing the flies away from your face.

My parents were here years ago – and one of their recollections was the flies.     Half-sized houseflies by the thousands are everywhere, with no bite and no buzz.    They are tenacious in trying to get as close to you as possible, especially the eyes, mouth and ears.       The Aussie Wave is the pivot from the elbow across your face and maybe over your head to shoo away the flies .   It's quite usual to see someone start hocking and spitting to dislodge one that was heading down the gullet.       If you are bug-phobic, not the place for you.      

At night, another attempt at star-gazing was made, and it was glorious!        Finally saw the Southern Cross, as well as Venus and Saturn with the naked eye.     Our astronomer host had a laser pointer that extended well into the sky and he pointed out things, like nebulae where stars can be formed through their high-powered telescopes.      You can't help but get perspective from looking at the vast expanse of the natural world.      Mind blowing.

When we flew out, everything we wore within a foot of the ground had a wonderful red dust.       And again I strained to try to eek a last glance from the air.

Our takeaway on this sui generis place?        A cathedral, definitely a cathedral.