Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Days 16, 17 – 1,2/08/05 Alice Springs, NT
The morning was crisp and cold. Most of the people at the caravan park were enroute, either to or from Alice Springs, and so without wasting any time in the morning got ready and continued their journey. We had a quick breakfast and set off by 9.30 am, which seems to be the earliest we can get going. We had about 400 km more to go before we got to Alice.
The landscape was quite vegetated. There were short scrubby trees and many grasses. We also passed, quite often, what looked like a tangled string of yellow tennis balls by the roadside every now and then. Curious about this, we stopped and made a closer examination of the next one. They turned out to be fruit on a dried up vine. The fruit were round like little melons. In fact, they are called Paddymelons, and the book said the desert was full of it, but one would have to be really desperate to eat them. The landscape didn't look like a desert, though it was unmistakably arid. But it is a desert because rainfall is poor and unpredictable in these regions. I think we'd happened on the place when it had just experienced some winter rains and so was greener than normal.
We were looking out for wildlife. There were very few roadkills, unlike the horror on the Portland-Mount Gambier road. But what few we saw were dessicated, often only some skin left on the skeleton. We saw some camels in the distance. There are plenty of wild camels in Australia. They were brought by the Afghans, initially used to transport goods and people across the desert to places like Alice Springs and nearby cattle stations. When the railway track was laid, these caravans were no longer as necessary as before, and many camels were let loose. Nowadays in addition to the wild ones there are also a few on farms, for rides, and safari tours in the outback.
We didn't know if the camels we saw were feral or owned, but from where we were they looked really skinny and pathetic. We felt sorry for them, living in this difficult terrain. But the next lot we saw were definitely someone's property as they all had eartags. They certainly looked healthier than the previous lot.
We got to Alice by 1.00 pm and went straight to a caravan park. It was obviously the tourist season. The caravan park was quite full, mainly with people in caravans, as usual, most of them elderly. Having secured a spot for the night we headed into town.
Alice seemed like quite a pleasant little town, just the right size. The people here are far away from anywhere,but they're pretty well set up, and don't have to miss out on anything. On the eastern side of the town centre is the dry creek bed of the Todd River, which further upstream is joined by the Charles river. Alongside the creek bed are several beautiful gum trees, mature and majestic. From the south the road into the centre is through a narrow gap in the mountain range which flanks the city on the South. North of the city is Anzac Hill, where there is a War Memorial. Further out on all sides are more mountain ranges. From Anzac Hill, where many people gather to watch sunset, it is quite a pretty sight – the town ringed by the ranges. When sunlight falls on the rocks, they blaze a fiery red or gold, and in shadow take on a purple hue.
We wandered around the city in the afternoon. It was firly quiet, perhaps because it was a public holiday, Picnic Day (any excuse for a holiday! If Melbourne can have a public holiday for a horse race, then anything else is acceptable).
We stepped into a Desert Art Gallery. There are plenty of art galleries in Alice, selling aboriginal art work. The art is very distinctive, usually composed of many dots. They depict stories, which are not readily interpretable by one, but use traditional motifs and symbols which have meanings. The art was beautiful and alas, quite expensive too.
The next day we visited the Cultural Precinct, which is a group of buildings housing a natural history museum, art galleries, museum of Australian Aviation etc. It was quite an interesting complex. I was drawn principally by the fact that the art gallery had a collection of Albert Namatjira paintings. Albert Namatjira was an aboriginal artist who painted many water colour paintings capturing the beauty of this region, at a time when few people from outside the region had any idea about its landscape. He learned to paint when he was about 30, under the mentorship of a Victorian painter who was visiting. His landscapes are lovely, capturing the beauty and colours of this heartland.
Among the buildings was the Strehlow Research Centre. Inside we learnt about this fascinating man. He grew up here and learned the local language from his childhood friends. He spent most of his life documenting their culture. His vast and detailed invaluable work is still being studied and assimilated. At the Aviation museum we also saw remains of the Kookaburra and learned of the tragedy that claimed its crew. When Charles Kingford Smith set off to fly to around the world he sent out a critical message that he had to do a forced landing because of some mechanical trouble. Nothing more was heard from him. Hitchcock and Anderson set out to look for them, in a hastily and poorly prepared mission. They encountered mechanical problems themselves and went down in the Tanami desert. Kingsford Smith was rescued unharmed from the Kimberleys, but by the time the search party spotted Hitchcock and Anderson 12 days after they went down they were already dead. They had apparently tried to get their plane airborne again, and also to dig a well to get some water. They even tried to quench their thirst drinking urine mixed with fuel. They must have died a horrible death. Such tragedies are being played out even these days. A few months ago two men were found dead near their car in the Tanami Desert. They were an uncle and his nephew who was in some trouble with the law. When they got wind that the law was on their trail, they tried to escape by driving down the Canning Stock Route. This was in summer, when the road is rarely used. Their vehicle broke down and they had no supplies. When they were found, both were dead, one a little distance from the car and one under a mattress, under the car in an apparent effort to escape the relentless heat.
Another tragedy we learnt about in the museum was about a pilot who was flying to Perth. Unfortunately just after he left Port Augusta his compass malfunctioned and he wasn't aware. Instead of heading towards Perth, he was actually heading towards Alice Springs. The country is so monotonous and without identifiable landmarks that it was many hours before he realised something was wrong. He crashed into the desert, about 250 km from Alice. A search was launched and a huge area was searched, but he was so far off track that he wasn't spotted. It was many years before even the wreckage of the plane was found and identified. His body was never found.
We also visited the Old Courthouse which now houses a museum of women pioneers which is a tribute to the pioneering women of this region. It had many portraits and stories about the first white women who came to live in and around Alice and the lives they led. There were also portraits and stories about other Australian women who were pioneers in their fields. There were doctors, lawyers, artists, politicians, sportswomen and women from every walk of life. It was quite inspiring to read about these determined women who overcame many obstacles and biases to achieve what they did.
There are more places to visit in Alice and the town is growing on us. It seems to be a nice place. But we've got to move on. So tomorrow we head off, going west along the Western McDonnells, and onwards to the real heart, Uluru.
The morning was crisp and cold. Most of the people at the caravan park were enroute, either to or from Alice Springs, and so without wasting any time in the morning got ready and continued their journey. We had a quick breakfast and set off by 9.30 am, which seems to be the earliest we can get going. We had about 400 km more to go before we got to Alice.
The landscape was quite vegetated. There were short scrubby trees and many grasses. We also passed, quite often, what looked like a tangled string of yellow tennis balls by the roadside every now and then. Curious about this, we stopped and made a closer examination of the next one. They turned out to be fruit on a dried up vine. The fruit were round like little melons. In fact, they are called Paddymelons, and the book said the desert was full of it, but one would have to be really desperate to eat them. The landscape didn't look like a desert, though it was unmistakably arid. But it is a desert because rainfall is poor and unpredictable in these regions. I think we'd happened on the place when it had just experienced some winter rains and so was greener than normal.
We were looking out for wildlife. There were very few roadkills, unlike the horror on the Portland-Mount Gambier road. But what few we saw were dessicated, often only some skin left on the skeleton. We saw some camels in the distance. There are plenty of wild camels in Australia. They were brought by the Afghans, initially used to transport goods and people across the desert to places like Alice Springs and nearby cattle stations. When the railway track was laid, these caravans were no longer as necessary as before, and many camels were let loose. Nowadays in addition to the wild ones there are also a few on farms, for rides, and safari tours in the outback.
We didn't know if the camels we saw were feral or owned, but from where we were they looked really skinny and pathetic. We felt sorry for them, living in this difficult terrain. But the next lot we saw were definitely someone's property as they all had eartags. They certainly looked healthier than the previous lot.We got to Alice by 1.00 pm and went straight to a caravan park. It was obviously the tourist season. The caravan park was quite full, mainly with people in caravans, as usual, most of them elderly. Having secured a spot for the night we headed into town.
Alice seemed like quite a pleasant little town, just the right size. The people here are far away from anywhere,but they're pretty well set up, and don't have to miss out on anything. On the eastern side of the town centre is the dry creek bed of the Todd River, which further upstream is joined by the Charles river. Alongside the creek bed are several beautiful gum trees, mature and majestic. From the south the road into the centre is through a narrow gap in the mountain range which flanks the city on the South. North of the city is Anzac Hill, where there is a War Memorial. Further out on all sides are more mountain ranges. From Anzac Hill, where many people gather to watch sunset, it is quite a pretty sight – the town ringed by the ranges. When sunlight falls on the rocks, they blaze a fiery red or gold, and in shadow take on a purple hue.
We wandered around the city in the afternoon. It was firly quiet, perhaps because it was a public holiday, Picnic Day (any excuse for a holiday! If Melbourne can have a public holiday for a horse race, then anything else is acceptable).
We stepped into a Desert Art Gallery. There are plenty of art galleries in Alice, selling aboriginal art work. The art is very distinctive, usually composed of many dots. They depict stories, which are not readily interpretable by one, but use traditional motifs and symbols which have meanings. The art was beautiful and alas, quite expensive too.
The next day we visited the Cultural Precinct, which is a group of buildings housing a natural history museum, art galleries, museum of Australian Aviation etc. It was quite an interesting complex. I was drawn principally by the fact that the art gallery had a collection of Albert Namatjira paintings. Albert Namatjira was an aboriginal artist who painted many water colour paintings capturing the beauty of this region, at a time when few people from outside the region had any idea about its landscape. He learned to paint when he was about 30, under the mentorship of a Victorian painter who was visiting. His landscapes are lovely, capturing the beauty and colours of this heartland.
Among the buildings was the Strehlow Research Centre. Inside we learnt about this fascinating man. He grew up here and learned the local language from his childhood friends. He spent most of his life documenting their culture. His vast and detailed invaluable work is still being studied and assimilated. At the Aviation museum we also saw remains of the Kookaburra and learned of the tragedy that claimed its crew. When Charles Kingford Smith set off to fly to around the world he sent out a critical message that he had to do a forced landing because of some mechanical trouble. Nothing more was heard from him. Hitchcock and Anderson set out to look for them, in a hastily and poorly prepared mission. They encountered mechanical problems themselves and went down in the Tanami desert. Kingsford Smith was rescued unharmed from the Kimberleys, but by the time the search party spotted Hitchcock and Anderson 12 days after they went down they were already dead. They had apparently tried to get their plane airborne again, and also to dig a well to get some water. They even tried to quench their thirst drinking urine mixed with fuel. They must have died a horrible death. Such tragedies are being played out even these days. A few months ago two men were found dead near their car in the Tanami Desert. They were an uncle and his nephew who was in some trouble with the law. When they got wind that the law was on their trail, they tried to escape by driving down the Canning Stock Route. This was in summer, when the road is rarely used. Their vehicle broke down and they had no supplies. When they were found, both were dead, one a little distance from the car and one under a mattress, under the car in an apparent effort to escape the relentless heat.
Another tragedy we learnt about in the museum was about a pilot who was flying to Perth. Unfortunately just after he left Port Augusta his compass malfunctioned and he wasn't aware. Instead of heading towards Perth, he was actually heading towards Alice Springs. The country is so monotonous and without identifiable landmarks that it was many hours before he realised something was wrong. He crashed into the desert, about 250 km from Alice. A search was launched and a huge area was searched, but he was so far off track that he wasn't spotted. It was many years before even the wreckage of the plane was found and identified. His body was never found.
We also visited the Old Courthouse which now houses a museum of women pioneers which is a tribute to the pioneering women of this region. It had many portraits and stories about the first white women who came to live in and around Alice and the lives they led. There were also portraits and stories about other Australian women who were pioneers in their fields. There were doctors, lawyers, artists, politicians, sportswomen and women from every walk of life. It was quite inspiring to read about these determined women who overcame many obstacles and biases to achieve what they did.
There are more places to visit in Alice and the town is growing on us. It seems to be a nice place. But we've got to move on. So tomorrow we head off, going west along the Western McDonnells, and onwards to the real heart, Uluru.
