Tuesday, August 3

Do you Uluru?

New day, same old early start. Up before Dawn to see the sunrise over Uluru.

Turns out Ayers Rock was not named after 70s Vibesman Roy Ayers.

This time we were on the Aborigine organized tour, instead of paying the White man.

Noticeable lack of attention payed to safety on this bus, and the driver seemed a bit heavy on the foot. Hey ho, we snapped a few silhouette shots of the rock, and then set up at a staging post to shoot the rock at sunrise.



A French couple next to us were taking photos of each other, so I offered to shoot a photo of the both of them with Uluru in the background.

Obviously they did not return the kind thought. They walked off, probably to smoke some Gitanes or read a Balzac novel. Twats.

As Tom Hanks probably said, the sun always rises. After a breakfast at the cultural center (a decent tasting croissant) we were introduced to our fleece wearing Aborigine guide Sarah, and her white Aussie interpreter John.

Sarah spoke Pitjantjatjara, and was of course a fucking delight. At one point I thought I heard her say that Amy Adams is a tour de force in Leap Year, but it turns out she was explaining how to make glue from a shrub.

Our group was a cosmopolitan affair, and of course had one of those pricks that spends the entire time sticking a zoom lens in the face of the guide.

Along the walk in the shadow of the Great Rock we learned how to make fire without a lighter, and throw a spear.

I tried throwing the spear, and it turns out I'm fucking awesome at is, as this video proves.



Our walk finished by the Rock, where we snapped away something silly. Then it was back to the hotel to prepare for another tour ...

Tonight was a doozy. I'm shy. I wish I was more outgoing but instead I shrink in new settings. 10 years ago, Anne and I sat at a table on a ferry going between Greek islands, it was an organized lunch and the sense of relief when we were sat with a Japanese family and a deaf family was tangible.

Tonight we got Japanese again on my side. Meanwhile Anne got a woman with severe Cerebral Palsy, who pointlessly brought her talking typewriter contraption along for the night.

Across from us were two hipsters, who are probably currently tweeting about the equally awkward Brit and American that they had to tolerate tonight.

Tonight was the first thing on this trip that I had a visceral dislike to. But it's still unforgettable!

The event is sold as an award winning evening of food, scenery and stargazing. The food was shit. Actually most of the food so far has been average at best, but I'm not here for the food. The scenery is wonderful, but we were a distance from Uluru. The stargazing guy sounded like Starvros the Greek "stars are great innit?"

Another humorous affect was our MC for the night. He had a soft lisp, that made "Sounds of Silence service" a very wet affair.

For the second night running I froze my ass off. Monkeys with brass balls were shaking their heads.

Back in our hotel room, I'm toasty and Anne is watching QI ... she loves her some Stephen Fry.

In the middle of the night Sears called about our dodgy dishwasher .... twice. Each time we told them to fuck off and stop calling. Each time they finished the call with "Thank you for choosing Sears." That's customer service for you.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Glad to hear the French gave you a real taste of who they are...
Bam!
--dq :)
PS: If it were me, I would have broken your camera, beaten the crap out of you and stolen your wife!