Uluru…

After spending just a few minutes in the presence of Uluru, your first thought is, “Why the hell didn’t I buy the fly net for my head?” I’ve never met a fly as tenacious as the bush fly in Australia. The damn thing will crawl up your nose if you let it, and even if you don’t let it. I used to think people wearing the fly netting on their heads looked a little funny, and I swore I would never wear something like that. Then I went out without it and decided that those people with the fly netting are geniuses, and I’m just a mere mortal at the mercy of flies.

There’s really not a whole lot to prepare you for seeing this part of Australia before you get here. Sure, you get inundated with photos of Uluru and the Olgas, and people talk about them so much that you almost get to the point of not even wanting to see them. But when you’re flying into the small little airport and catch your first glimpse of the famous rock, you realize there’s no substitution; you have to see it for yourself.

The rocks that form Uluru and the Olgas are enormous and are a single rock. It’s like nature said, “Let me show you what I can do with just one rock,” and then dropped these massive monoliths in the middle of the Outback. It’s absolutely awe-inspiring.

I can see why the Anangu consider this place to be sacred. It’s as if Mother Nature has created her own cathedral, and all of man’s versions are inadequate. Plus, the flies add a touch of absurdity to the whole experience. Trying to swat them away while admiring the beauty of Uluru is like trying to appreciate a fine painting while someone repeatedly pokes you in the eye with a paintbrush. It’s both frustrating and hilarious, and it’s a memory I’ll never forget.