The Red Centre

Tomorrow I leave Australia (for now)! I spent the last few weeks in the continent's red center in Alice Springs and some of the surrounding national parks. Because I'm a procrastinator and still need to finish packing for the next leg of the journey (Tuvalu!), this post may be less thorough than it oughta be. Hopefully, we can recount these stories another time in person under some equally von blue days and starry nights.

sunset from Anzac Hill in Alice Springs

Alice was a pleasant town. It shuts down early in the evening, but that suited me just fine. My hostel, the Alice Lodge Backpacker's, was a friendly, comfortable place. I spent a day at the Reptile Centre, where the excellent staff taught me all about geckos, bearded dragons, and pythons, among others. I even got to hold a two-meter olive python called Jack! It feels weird to be indoors when in Alice, because the desert scenery around it is so encompassing. The sunset view from Anzac Hill is a must, especially if you are feeling sad about being so far from home and the faithful communal voices of the open-air Catholic mass make you seem more of a loner.

Ellery Creek Big Hole, after a lovely swim

How to cure the worst homesickness I've ever felt? Confide in the desert. (Also have a few good cries.) Melbourne-friend-cartoonist-poet Brent flew up to meet me for a road-trip to Uluru. We first headed west, out along the MacDonnell Ranges, camping at Ellery Creek Big Hole. We didn't investigate the Big Hole until the morning, assuming it was maybe a crater or sinkhole or other small depression in the dry but surprisingly biodiverse landscape. Fools, we are! It was an oasis of the highest caliber. I didn't expect for a second that this trip would indulge my Piscean character, and the long morning swim in that frigid canyon pool was the first of many sacred encounters in the land of primary colors.

It's a looong drive to Uluru. We camped for free at Curtin Springs--a million acre cattle station also famous for making homemade paper. Neat. I made the mistake of tethering Sugar Mama (my tent) to some trees because the ground was too hard to hammer my stakes. The ants who lived in these trees didn't like this! I worry I will have to live ten million ant lives in order to pay my karmic debts for all those I smooshed packing up that morning.

Long drives in the Outback are good for deep conversation, sing-along music, and admiring the landscape. I still can't get over how actually really Red it is. The color comes from iron in the soil, rocks, dust oxidizing over the last many million years. But it isn't really rust colored. It's RED. Not--cherry red, or fire-engine red, or whatever other types of red there are. This is original red. Bah--the poet in me can't get a grip.

sunrise at Uluru

How to describe Uluru when you see it? The pictures don't do it justice. It is sacred. It holds stories I'm not privy to. I saw it and just looking made me feel like I was learning a secret. We did some hikes around the base, learning from rangers and guides about some of the elements of the Dreamtime and the ancestral Mala beings who made the country, lived on country, are the country, tell the stories of country. Do come here. Don't climb the rock.

Kata Tjuta Valley of the Winds trail

I enjoyed hiking at Kata Tjuta more than at Uluru. Kata Tjuta (the Olga Mountains) are 36 domes, made of conglomerate sandstone rather than the arkose sandstone of Uluru. To those of you back in Deerfield-- Mt. Sugarloaf is also made of arkose! Whaaat! Our little lump a sugar has some crazy cousins over here. The traditional owners of Kata Tjuta do not share any stories of this sacred men's place as a means to protect the land and the stories. I was slow to understand this, but I think it is an effective means of conservation.

King's Canyon from afar

On the return to Alice Springs, Brent and I visited King's Canyon in Watarrka National Park. The weather was heating back up to 43 degrees Celsius (about 109 F), but we explored the shady sanctuary of King's Creek. It was a good place for writing.

The 'mighty' Todd River, Alice Springs (usually dry)

As we made the long haul back to the town (about a 5-6 hour drive from King's Canyon), the first clouds I'd seen since arriving in Alice rolled up from the south. The sunset that night was no longer the simple gradient of navy to tangerine; splashes of gold and purple and silver joined in around the clouds. They say if you see the Mighty Todd River flow three times, you'll never leave Alice Springs. I liked this place, but I wasn't ready to stay, and I flew out before the clouds could gather thick enough to bring rain to that parched riverbed.

The storms caught up to me here in Brisbane. Hopefully they'll take it easy when I get to Tuvalu. That place has seen enough storm for a while.

I will have extremely limited internet access in the next two months. Send your good vibes out to sea. I'll collect them twice daily on the tide.

Love always,
Carrie

OH MAN THE FLIES (this is an unintentional Australian salute picture)

Kata Tjuta Valley of the Winds trail

feathery flowers

waterhole at the base of Uluru, along Mala trail

me and Jack, the olive python at the Alice Springs Reptile Centre

Australia's Top End

Darwin harbor and city

Sometimes, the generosity of strangers blows me away. Rarely has this been truer for me than here in Australia's Top End. I lived just outside Darwin with nature writer Kaye Aldenhoven, meeting many artists and landscapes with her help. It’s hot here! And rainy! Darwin is the lightning capital of the world. So far I’ve survived a cyclone (it passed mostly to the east of us) and near-daily thunderstorms. They are welcome in my mind since they break the humidity and tropical heat, keeping the world green and lush for the Wet.

Crocodile Dreaming painting at Territory Wildlife Park

Together, Kaye and I attended the Emerald Springs Writers’ Retreat. I held a workshop for the class of 14 writers (most of whom are well-established professional writers) on nature writing. We talked about methods for focusing the work on the natural world, and not the direct human experience of it, but never could quite agree on how to do this.

cheeky Sulfur Crested Cockatoo

But, the more pressing question is, is it worthwhile? I hold that it is. For practice, we did a few exercises using objects from indoors and outdoors as prompts, graphed concepts of different spectrums in the environment (i.e. temperature, color, light, size), and plunked ourselves in the buggy, sticky, sweaty outside to Write in Place. Overall, the workshop was a great experience!

Katherine River Gorge

Some of the writers at the workshop were from Katherine. Sharon, a writer/ex-park-ranger drove me the few-hundred-kms south to spend a few days in her town. Katherine was my first real taste of The Outback. Sharon filled the drive with tales all about the sandstone escarpment of Arnhem Land and Katherine Gorge, the black soils around the low-oxygen freshwater sulfur springs, and the last remaining stand of cycads in the region (unusual plants that shared the world with dinosaurs, back when Australia was part of Gondwanaland).

I stayed with Toni Tapp-Coutts, a friendly and vibrant writer whose upcoming memoir shares her story growing up on one of Australia’s most famous cattle stations. Much birding, bicycling, swimming, and hiking was accomplished! And a bit of writing too.

on the Arnhem Highway to Kakadu!

Back up north in Palmerston and Darwin, I joined Kaye on “writing dates” with other writers around town. We took turns suggesting prompts, and wrote whatever came to mind for 10-15 minutes, then share. It’s a strategy I’ll definitely continue. Having the company and dedication and intimacy are great motivators. I also performed at a show called Wild Words, sharing a few of my recent poems.

view from Ubirr

Most recently, I took myself camping in Kakadu National Park. I’ve been dreaming of seeing this UNESCO World Heritage site for a long time. I was one of the few visitors to come in the Wet. Much of the park is inaccessable at this time. The roads literally go meters underwater, linking the many billabongs throughout the wetlands. Some sites remain open. I stayed at Anbinik, a fantastic camp/caravan park in Jabiru. Jabiru is a small town inside the park, very near to the Ranger Uranium Mine. It’s the hub of the many outstations where many Aboriginal people live, consisting of a few small neighborhoods, a gas station, library, school, grocery store, bakery, Kakadu Lodge, crocodile-shaped Crocodile Hotel and that’s it. The next town is about 200km away. I was delighted to be so remote.

I loosed Sugar Mama from her overlong storage in the tent stuff-sack and lived fairly dryly throughout the daily storms. Kaye lent me her car, making transport very easy. And luckily, the one CD left in the car was the perfect soundtrack! (No radio stations.)

Mimi Spirits rock art at Nangawulurr

I spent most of my time in Kakadu around Nourlangie and Ubirr. I took a tour with Guluyambi Tours to see Ubirr. Self-drive access to Ubirr is completely flooded out this time of year. Roman steered our group through the Marenga creek wetland and billabong. He taught us the many uses of paperbark trees, the crunchy-sweet taste of water lily stalks, the dangers of crocodiles, and the incredible hunting capabilities of sea-eagles. Doug guided us through the rock art galleries at Ubirr, though he did so with annoying condescension: “the paintings depict lessons--they didn’t really happen.” I didn't like the condescension.

Barramundi fish rock art at Nangawulurr

The rock art was incredible, and a wealth of stories. It was magical to imagine the painters of 20,000+ years ago reaching the vaulted overhanging ceilings of the rock galleries. It might've been sorcery? Some paintings are said to be living Mimi spirits, who upon teaching the first painters, leapt onto the rock surface themselves to become art.

Despite my disappointment in our very blokey guide, the sites were a feast for the artist and scientist and story-lover in me. Especially at Nourlangie, I struggled to spend enough time gazing at the rock art or the three hundred sixty degree views of the Dreaming.

Lightning Dreaming view in Kakadu National Park

The Stone Country filled the horizon. It is home of Dreaming figures like Namarrgon, the Lightning Man. This land is full of dangerous places and figures whose disturbance could bring calamity. In the middle distance, encompassing the view are the monsoon forests and billabongs, blending water and land. In the foreground: probably flies. You get used to them crawling all over you and learn the futility of swatting them away. All things combined to make you appreciate your smallness.

Wishing you many small moments of wonder,

Carrie


P.S. More soon from Alice Springs!

P.P.S. More photos below:

swimming hole at Matarenka Springs

Green Tree Frog sexy time

mudracing outside Darwin, a great friday night activity

Gong xi fa cai! Chinese New Year in Darwin.

freshwater Whipray feeding at Territory Wildlife Park 

rock art at Burrunggui, Anbangbang gallery

rock art at Burrunggui, Anbangbang gallery

zoom in on Lightning Dreaming site in Kakadu National Park 

weathered Rainbow Serpent rock art at Ubirr

Sea Eagle in Kakadu National Park

Darwin wharf by night