If You Need Me, I'll Be Out Back

As I predicted yesterday, the hurricane has  returned- and with a vengeance. The eye of relief only lasted one day. It has been another long, long, long day.

I don't even know *WHY* I set my alarm to get up early in the mornings for tours, check-outs,
transfers and flights, although I still do just out of habit and common sense.  I seem to wake up
hours ahead of it, preventing me from catching even the most modest and desperately-needed amount of
sleep each and every night.  For example, at 7:15 this morning, I needed to meet my limo outside the
hotel for my flight out of Sydney. (I know..."limo"... that sounds so Hollywood, doesn't it?  But
that is indeed what they call the airport shuttle vehicles over here.  And it was a Mercedes Benz!)
So I set my trusty alarm clock for 5:45 a.m. thinking that would give me plenty of time to shower,
grab a bite to eat, pack up, pay for my incidentals at the reception desk and be on time. Remember:
being on time is critically important to me, and I consider myself a good time manager.

And, of course, in the dark of night - 4:15 -  not a creature was stirring (not even a mouse), my old brain just wakes the hell up and says, "Good morning!! Time to get up!!!"  And there was no use even trying to get back to sleep.  I've given up on that strategy. No matter how tired I feel physically, my mind seems to have a mind of its own! 

Finally, after entertaining myself and grumbling about the fact that I had to wait until 6:30 for the restaurant in the lobby to open (which meant no coffee for all that time, ugh), I was able to get back on my original timetable for the morning. I checked out, enjoyed a swift ride in my fancy limo to the Sydney Domestic Airport, and off I went again into the sky to travel northwest into Australia's infamous Outback to see Ayers Rock (known by the Aboriginal tribes as "Uluru"). This is the second of three segments of this trip to Aussieland and one I have been anticipating with extreme enthusiasm.

You might recall that today was the day I was supposed to land at Ayers Rock Airport at around
1:20ish, get my luggage, transfer to the Pioneer Outback Hotel, check into my room and be ready to
get on my first tour bus at 1:45.  Really?!@  25 minutes for all that?  Well, believe it or not, I
got to the front door of my room, put down my bag and looked at the clock- 1:48. Crazy.

The funny thing was- I had been SO anxious all day long to get to my new hotel and see if there was
a bathtub in the room, and THAT was supposed to be my FIRST point of business upon arrival at my
room.  But literally, within seconds, just as I checked the clock and was marveling at the super-human feat that had just occurred, the phone rang.  As I fumbled clumsily to pick it up, I dropped it, and it rang again.  It was the reception desk telling me that my tour bus driver was outside waiting impatiently for me and wondering why I was late. She said he was about ready to leave without me. Really?!@  This must be a Candid Camera prank or something, I thought. Absolutely surreal.

Resisting the urge to launch into a tirade of cursing and complaining about how unrealistic it was to expect me to be ready THAT fast, simply drop everything and run to the bus without even a minute to catch my breath, I told the receptionist calmly (but still cursing up a storm inside), "I'll be right there."  I was raised to be a good boy and not complain too much. Thank you, Mom.

Without grabbing a hat to protect my bald head against the scorching Outback sun or changing into
proper shoes (I'd worn my bedroom slippers on the plane to stay comfy) or even grab a liter of water
to take as they recommend out here in the wild Australian Outback, I walked by the bathroom, which
was still dark, and was unable to see if there was a tub or just a shower. Still unclear.  I dashed out the door to meet the tour bus guide. I explained to him that being late was not my doing and that I had no control over any of it. I let him have it a little bit, just enough to make my point. I was also raised to stand up for myself. Thank you, Dad.

See what I mean about the return of the hurricane? This was a Category 5 at this point. Just 24 hours earlier I was blissfully lounging in my room without a care in the world. 

I took a deep breath, calmed myself down and refocused my attention on the extraordinary, indescribable beauty all around me. After all, this is what I came here for - to see Uluru, not to be stressed out. The land is barren and dry and very flat. The sky was a rich, dark blue (a striking contrast to Uluru's red stone), and the air was warm, fresh, clear and still.  It reminded me so vividly of Eastern Washington with its tumbleweed and desert-like environment.

A herd of fifty or more wild camels grazed on tough, bright, bluish-green bush grass that grows in small clumps on the sandy, red soil. Birds of prey were flying overhead, screeching and looking for lizards and other tasty treats to prey upon. The magical, mystical, deeply-saturated terra cotta-colored Uluru - the rock sacred to the first inhabitants of Australia - jets out of the Earth defiantly almost 30 stories tall and dominates the horizon from every direction. 

Far in the distance, the multi-headed brothers of Uluru- the many, equally-impressive, massive and imposing domes of Kata Tjuta (a cluster of Uluru-like rocks nearly as big) dotted the skyline.  It was all truly breathtaking and much more beautiful than it appears in the pictures I've seen over the years.  The Outback is vast, unforgiving, ancient, sunburned and treacherous.

My much-anticipated tour of Uluru is scheduled for tomorrow, 6:15 sharp. The tour today was a long
drive, about 25 miles, to reach the Kata Tjuta Domes. Our bus only had the guide/driver (a young
Aussie chap named Troy with bushy beard, a wry smile and deep-blue eyes), a married couple from Hong Kong (both university instructors) and myself.  So we got a very personal, intimate tour of the giant domes and walked through a very sacred canyon called "The Canyon of the Wind" where it was cool, shady and full of clear springs bubbling up from the crimson earth.  A semi-full moon was rising quietly in the sky, and Troy said it was a special sign to the indigenous people when the moon was overhead at Kata Tjuta that their ancestors were happy and looking down at them.  How perfect is that?

By now, I had been up for almost 14 hours under a ton of pressure, standing in line at the airport most of the morning, going through security, flying almost a thousand miles, going through the "hurry up!!!" portion of my arrival, a three-hour tour including a hike (STILL in my slippers!) and now - at last - we were done with our tour. Troy dropped me off back the hotel, and I literally staggered in complete exhaustion to my room where my room was way "out back" (get it?) in a nice quiet corner of the resort. A perfect spot for my typical three hours sleep tonight.  I swear I'm gonna look 100 years old when I return.

I turned the key, and stumbled into my room. A quick flick of the lights, and halleluiah, thank the

stars above:  there in front of me, almost as if it were a mirage, was a deep, long, white, porcelain bathtub waiting there for me.