Please stop with your rain dancing, it’s getting painful! It rained continuously all night and throughout the day until 3 p.m. It feels like New Caledonia. I spent the night shivering despite wearing pants and a sweatshirt, under gusts of wind that made the tent canvas flap. Who can believe that? In a desert where it is recommended not to go in the summer and where there are signs inviting you to drink every 15 minutes and saying that you must drink a liter every two hours. I just have bad luck, that’s all. The good news is that I’m not the only one who has to put up with this, wherever I go I also spoil the holidays of those who are there. It consoles… I dragged my way to Uluru. The only objective of the day: to see the rock cry with the torrents flowing down its sides. Not enough to occupy a whole day.
Before leaving I went to the campsite reception to look at the weather forecast for the next few days. The weather is supposed to be nice today. Ah good ? It looks like it’s going badly. And we should agree with the Uluru cultural center which displays the same bulletin as yesterday with just the date that has changed: “prevailing: storms/showers, next day: storms/showers”. That leaves little room for hope… I didn’t manage to take any photos from the open window today. As soon as I opened it it was like someone threw a bucket of water in my face. I was ready to take out my water camera but it doesn’t take as good photos. So I kept the other one, having to wipe it after each photo or even during it, the lens being soaked before I managed to frame anything.
The advantage is that I have photos that few will have, with Uluru in full collapse! The rain has completely changed the appearance of the rock: instead of the orange-red that everyone knows, it is now rosewood. I stopped at the Mala parking lot to go to the gorge where I had gone the first day, putting on my chick yellow poncho after having rolled up the bottom of the pants and the sleeves of the sweatshirt. I wasn’t the only one dressed like this, everyone had raincoats or umbrellas. At the supermarket, they put the ponchos prominently at the entrance. There is always a way to benefit from everything. A dripping rock is fine for ten minutes, then it gets boring! So I went back to the cultural center to see what Aboriginal art stuff they were selling.
They offered very bulky paintings or others as large as a glove but with patterns that I didn’t like. They also had hand painted bookmarks. The rest were carved wooden objects, bowls, spoons, spears, pieces of wood supposed to make music when they collide. Instead I went to the gift shop to see if I could find postcards of cursed paintings. There wasn’t any but I found a nice book “Australian aboriginal paintings, by Jennifer Isaacs” which I’m going to get on the internet. Afterwards I went to eat at the café in the center where they offered hot dishes. I made friends with an Australian couple who arrived from Melbourne by car, after 3 days on the road, driving 10 hours a day. They go like this to Darwin. I have to see them again this evening at their hotel where they are going to make me taste Australian wine, superior according to them to French wine. I can not wait to see it ! It will warm me up a little, I have to put the heater on in the car; in the middle of the desert, there is something to dream about. They tell me that I bring bad weather with me when I revealed to them that I had only seen the sun 6 days since December 15th.
I told them that the French weren’t froggy for nothing! We also laughed a lot at the mention of the film about the Anangu when we passed the screening room. Without me saying anything, the couple’s wife commented saying that the one dancing could really use a good bra. They too could not stay until the end. It’s still curious that something supposed to introduce people to the Anangu way of life is so poorly done and repels people. By the way, I didn’t say, but I saw Anangu. They are black but not frizzy, they have wavy hair and some are even blonde, it’s funny. Their features are a little coarse and they tend to have well-defined nasolabial folds.
While waiting for aperitif time I returned to the campsite to take an invigorating hot shower. I also looked to see if I had an answer for the van in Tasmania. As I still had nothing, I called them, getting an answering machine that said everything was sold out until February 15th. So I fell back on a normal car rental and will go camping there. Wild if possible, if I can manage it because camping is definitely not my thing. Yesterday I moved the tent behind an embankment to no longer hear the noise of the station of I don’t know what but instead I had a concert of van doors rolling heavily. They would have to invent soft side openings, with rubber-mounted wheels, that would be very appreciable. I will also have to buy a blanket on site or a sleeping bag because if I get cold in the desert, I can’t imagine a 4-hour plane ride further south.
