After a freezing night camped at a non-descript roadside rest area, somewhere between Erldunda and Yulara, we had a leisurely lie in this morning, awaking to find that we and a sole whizz banger were the only occupants left. By the time we did get up, the sun was zooming into the cloudy atmosphere, causing a pleasant warmth outside that had yet to invade the van. Such was the cold, we dressed quickly and decided to hit the road relatively swiftly for the final schlep to Yulara. By my estimation, even with a couple of stops to allow for more photographs to be recorded, it oughtn’t take us much longer than an hour and a half. Much better than yesterdays tiring episode.

Shortly after rejoining the road, the commonly mistaken for Uluru, Mount Conner made its presence known, rising up stolidly from the surrounding plains. Even at the distance we were, with no other reference for scale, this singular mount looks to be massive. As planned, we stopped very briefly at a wayside stop, from which clear views across to Mount Conner allowed for unimpeded photographic memories to be created, before we continued onward.

Mount Conner.

As we drew ever closer to ‘The Rock’, which as it sits amid an expansive desert, you would be forgiven for thinking that you would be able to chart its growth from small pimple upon the horizon, to pebble, to stone, to rock, to the gigantic monolith it is as you approach it from the distance. However, as the highway wends its way across undulating cuttings through the surrounding, towering sand dunes, by the time you catch your first glimpse of the rock now known simply as Uluru, it already spans a good part of the horizon.

That First Sighting.

We have been here before, even taken photos from the precise same point at which we stopped this morning, pulling into another wayside rest area, before clambering through the soft talcum powder like orange sand to the crest of a dune, from which we could bear witness of one of Australias most recognisable natural features. I don’t care what anyone says, but the first time you see it is a magical, mystical experience. Despite having been here before, I still fell quickly under its spell once more. I was aghast, reverently captivated by the deep purplish hue that dappled the rocks most familiar silhouette as it soared from the gold tinged plains, high into the cloud rippled blue sky.

Selfie With ‘The Rock’ In The Distance.

A short time later, we were pulling into the nearby town of Yulara. Basically a ‘company’ town that has sprung up to support tourism, and pretty much run by a large hotel conglomerate, it is the only place you can now stay within reasonable distance to the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, however it is that you choose to travel. For us, we have a site booked at the campgrounds, so it was there that we made our way.

While I stayed in ‘The Beast’, Bec ran in, quickly completing the paperwork to check us in. We then followed the highlighted yellow line drawn on our map, to our allotted campsite. Site 24. It was a little smaller than what we had expected. Almost too small we thought, but it’s what we’d been allocated, so in we went. With no small amount of finagling, backing in, driving out, backing in, driving out and finally backing in once more. The tin can fitted, just. There was, now that the rig had been separated into its component parts, just one other trifling concern. There was nowhere to park ‘The Beast’, without blocking to some extent, the access road. As we put power to the van, and generally worked on getting it all set up, we kept looking at it, both trying to make the most of it, but we really weren’t happy. Along with the diminutive size of the plot, there was also an access path to the lookout, running alongside our site, a path I am sure will get much use by noisy little people, which is an undesirable feature when we are planning to leave the dogs alone in the van.

In the end, with maybe just a little bit of yelling, cursing and throwing of things (mostly by me) and already wasting in excess of an hour, at Becs insistence, we took a quick walk around, identifying a potentially perfect (and presently vacant) site. Because of the size of the campground, which has in excess of 180 powered sites, returning to reception required us to drive back. The lady behind the counter, who had checked Bec in earlier, couldn’t have been nicer, even if it was to compassionately tell us that the park was fully booked out and maybe, if we wanted to take an unpowered site for two nights before moving back onto a powered site, there was little else that could be done.

At this point, Bec mentioned the site we had noticed on our wander, site 53. That would be perfect we told her, allowing us to park our 14 metres of steel and aluminum with ease. We could see her thinking about it, as she wielded her fingers deftly over a computer keyboard. To our relief, there was something she could do, and in no time flat, we were reallocated a spot, this time on site number 55. It wasn’t the site we had hoped for, but judging from the map, would be better than our original offering.

Back to the van we went, me starting the infuriating task of hooking everything back up again, while Bec went to survey our new digs. She came flying back at a rapid pelt, complaining loudly that it was already occupied by another van. My head was beginning to hurt by this stage, and not wanting to drive once more back to the reception area, Bec chose to ring them instead. It was much to our relief to find that we had actually been given our requested site, but somehow the message had been muddled in the transmission.

With the van hooked up to ‘The Beast’ yet again, I impelled the whole show around the park, jostling the tin can into position on what I hope will be our final resting place here. What was planned to be a simply day had just turned into an epic saga, the likes of which I could have done without. Happy was a word temporarily deleted from my vocabulary, replaced instead with a string of adjectives that wouldn’t bear printing, as I set about to rig our van for residence.

By the time I set up the awning, hammering ½ a dozen tent pegs into what felt like solid bedrock, as well as giving my hand a nasty love tap with the mallet, and running all the lines for power and plumbing, I had calmed down a little, just glad that we now have a prime position, with more than enough room to move.

The unfortunate misuse of time however rendered our desire to take in the sunset views of Uluru unfeasible, so instead we drove around the circuit road from the campground to the town centre, where there is a miniature shopping centre from which all of your basic supplies can be obtained. There is a slew, well three, souvenir shops, one of which doubles as a newsagency as well as a bank, post office, café, information centre and a surprisingly well stocked and considerately priced supermarket. In fact, had I have realised the possibility of reasonably priced groceries out here, I may not have gone so overboard yesterday in Alice Springs. That said, we still managed to find a few items which had not been obtained yesterday, before heading back to the van where Bec cooked a delicious roast dinner, all in a single electric frying pan such is the wizard she is, while I struggled to post a series of updates to the blog pages and a heap of photos to Flickr. To the best of my knowledge, they are both now up to date, so, enjoy.

Until next time, have fun, stay safe and don’t forget to write.