On the morning of my first full day at Uluru, I watched the sunrise and tried to get a great shot of the rock. It was overcast, so the pictures were disappointing.

Later, I did a tour around the base of the rock. The sky had cleared by then, so the colors were amazing and the pictures were better. The guide pointed out special features and markings, showed us some cave art, told us Aboriginal children’s tales, and expended quite a few calories constantly waving his hand around his face because of the flies. Above is from the base walk—nothing special, just part of the path; I have far better shots of far better places in the area and faces on the rock, but I’m playing it safe with the public display.

Plus, I haven’t actually gone through all the photos yet. And I like this one just fine.

After the walk, my feet were throbbing, and my shoes were covered in red dust. I made the mistake of scratching my leg with the side of my shoe, so my jeans’ leg was red stained, too.

And below, the evidence on a pair of new hiking boots:

It doesn’t look quite as red in the picture—the light coming in through the hotel window wasn’t great—but I was impressed enough by it that I had to take the shot.

I didn’t climb the rock, unfortunately, though our group passed by the start of the climbing path in our walk. There’s a path with a handhold, but the guide recommends not to climb. He told us that not too long ago, a tourist nearly fell off or fainted … because it was so windy and harsh that day that the climbers were buffeted until they were forced to come down.

The Aborigines ask that you don’t climb the rock, unless you want to invite trouble. Even its namesake broke his toe when he attempted to climb it despite the natives’ warnings.

So the base walk was as close as I got.

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