Uluru and the Olgas were a nice trip, a good diversion. A definite step up the ladder coming up from the pool of shit I was drowning in. To tell the truth, when I got there the weather was very bad, cloudy and rain started to pour down as soon as we entered the park. Brilliant, I was reminding myself, still quite annoyed from the recent events. But what I didnt know is that on the very few days per year this area sees some rain, the Rock is actually a real unique thing because all over his massive walls you can see tons of little and bigger waterfalls coming down like the red surface was glowing behind the water. It was just amazing, although totally wet. And still, the reason to come to Uluru is to see its amazing changing colors at sunrise or sunset, so you can imagine, I was pleased with the rain show, but at around 4 pm, still wet and pissed, I just wished Mr. Henry Chthulhu up there would decide to open up the blinds and let some sunshine in. And man, Henry listened to me!! We were checking out a museum showcasing the history and traditions of the Anangu people, the original keepers of Uluru – Kata Tjuta area, when the clouds lifted from the top of the rock, and the sky started to glow in a whitey shade, before exploding with the colors of dusk. We barely made it to the sunset observing area where we crammed the rental van among hundreds of other cars, and we just sat there, taking pictures, amazed by the shades of color radiating from the Rock.
I mean, the Rock is huge and it’s the biggest monolith in the world, but honestly, there has to be something special for a big rock to be worthly called “The Rock”. Now I understood why the Anangu people believe this place as a cross for all the dreamlines running up and down Australia. In less than 10 minutes, you can see Uluru changing colors and shades, from a bright almost orangey yellow, to a dark brown that encompasses the darkness around it. And looks darker than the dark itself. It’s just amazing, really unique to see the lines in the stone becoming orange, yellow, reddish and then dark, all of a sudden. It’s like a gigantic light bulb that works by itself, because it has proper life. It’s the weirdest, most powerful sight I’ve probably seen in Australia, and besides its obvious and annoying touristic and commercial value, you have to see it. Otherwise, you haven’t seen Australia. I guess, at least. It stands barely in the middle of the continent, like a big, sick belly button, or a strange kind of abnormal cock, it’s just big and round and radiates immensity and power. It really awestruck me, and got me back on the road happy.