Big Red to, uh, me..
The next stop on my magical mystery tour of Australia was a world-famous, truly gi-NORMOUS rock that has got to be seen in person to be believed. Needless to say, this sort of primeval beauty won't be found next to the beach in Sydney. Nope, Ayer's Rock took me almost dead center of Australia's vast interior, better known as the Outback.
Yup – the Outback. It exists, and not merely as the name to a cool Subaru car or a punchline to a Crocodile Dundee movie. It's big – so big that it holds a Belgium-sized cattle ranch without even breaking a sweat. I'd like to see size-conscious Texan ranchers react to that!
With only about two and a half weeks to spend in Australia, it's been a whistle-stop tour – and Alice Springs was to be no exception. I pretty much had to fly in, head out on a cool three day camping/hiking tour, then it'd be another flight back to the coast.
Definitely not my ideal way to travel – just like the US, you really only get a sense of the sheer scale of Australia by going overland. Four months sounds like a lot, but I met so many other guys who had spent six months or even more, just tooling 'round Australia in a camping caravan.
(Uh, don't worry Mom and Dad – I don't have any plans to follow them as yet...)
Right... flying into Alice Springs took some adjusting. While Sydney and Melbourne might squabble over the number of cafes per block, Alice Springs is a lot more basic. I'm betting it's the type of place that has a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the unveiling of its 3rd stoplight...
It's a cool town – a combination of suburban sprawl mixed with an ever-growing awareness and appreciation for Aboriginal culture. Alice Springs even has a dose of Americana – with several hundred Yanks working at one of those remote places that house secret US gov't installations to track NASA mission, the odd ballistic missile, and who knows what else.
My first day was pretty relaxed. I set up shop at Alice Lodge Backpackers – luxurious place by hostel standards, with free internet, DVD's and a BBQ to boot.
The rest of the afternoon was logistics – I had to sort out important things like snacks, laundry, and most critical of all, alcohol for the trip... then it was a surprisingly good pizza at La Casalinga, complete with (sigh) an egg on it. Ya know? The whole pizza dough, eggy-goodness thing... it works. Don't ask me why... it just works.
Whoops – forgot to mention. I was picking up a bottle of Johnny Walker, after a lengthy internal debate as to what alcohol would be best for the camping trip... and, at the local bottle shop, I came across a weird scene.
WARNING: Semi-significant background digression... Going on VERY basic knowledge, mostly gained from some Midnight Oil songs, and Bill Bryson's hysterical Down Under book about Oz, but it seems that Oz is still working on its Aboriginal issue. There seem to be three groups – the largest includes all of the people who follow their traditional way of life, followed by the folks who fully integrated into Western ways.
However, there's a third group... the ones that have fallen through the cracks. All around Alice Springs, you'll see occasional Aboriginals wandering about, seemingly in a daze. From what I read, Aboriginals basically have no tolerance for alcohol as we do, and way too many of them have fallen into alcoholism and unemployment. It's sad for a number of reasons – they can't assimilate into modern life, and once they leave their old ways, their tribes won't let them go back.
Anyways, I got a glimpse of this at the bottle shop, when an Aboriginal walked in, and was quizzed a bit by the employee about why they were purchasing the beer. I guess the Aboriginal councils and the Aussie gov't have put in curbs to purchases of alcohol... I guess it's a good idea, but watching it in action made me uncomfortable – the overall tone of the employee did smack of condescension.
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